#doctor who becoming more american has never went well and at this point i don’t know why they keep trying

[bingqiv]

the americanisation of doctor who very much feels like sisyphus rolling that boulder up the hill. he’ll fail but he’ll try again and again and still continue to fail.

[therealvinelle]

I've always wondered this, but what do you think the Cullen's political viewpoints would be, given their individual backgrounds? if vampires don't change after they turn, then surely they would all be extremely racist (especially Jasper). would this not come up at some point? they aren't like the Volturi because the Volturi are too old to care, but the Cullens are young enough that they have been brought up with opinions on stuff like sexism, racism, homophobia and the like.

Oh fuck.

You get an early answer because otherwise I'll just chicken out and delete this one, pretend I never saw it.

UMMM.

Since I'm guessing you meant American political viewpoints, we need a disclaimer. I am not American, and not too knowledgeable about your politics. Not just in the sense that I don't follow the day-to-day drama, but as I am not an American citizen there are several things I don't know, can't know because I've never lived in your country and therefore can't know what the effects of living in a country ruled by American policies is like. What I do know is based off of the news in the foreign section, social media (by which I mean tumblr posts), and Trevor Noah's Daily Show.

I am an outsider looking in.

Which is really rather appropriate, since the Cullens are too.

The Cullens go to high school and college, Carlisle works, they pay taxes, they own real estate, and submerge themselves in American culture. Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella are young enough that this is in many ways their world, and apart from timeouts they've more or less spent their entire lives, human and vampire, integrated into American society.

Not fully integrated, mind you, they do what they need to to fit in and get to school or, in Carlisle’s case, to work. They go no further. No extra-curriculars for the kids, no book clubs for Esme, no game nights for Carlisle. They walk parallel to humans, not among us.

In addition to this they're obscenely rich, which puts them another thousand miles from the experiences of your average American. They won't deal with the health system, which means healthcare is a non-issue, they're not going to need welfare or other social programs, unemployment is another non-issue. Name your issue, and the Cullens don't have personal stake in it. Even the climate crisis won't be a problem for them the way it will for us.

What I'm trying to say is, American political issues are a concept to them, not a lived reality. Just like they are for me. So hey, you made a great choice of blog to ask.

I'll also add here that you say the Volturi are too old to care, and I agree- from an ancient's point of view, racism is a matter of "which ethnicity are we hating today?", and it all looks rather arbitrary after a while. Same with every other issue - after a while it all just blends together into "what are the humans fighting over today? Which Christian denomination is the correct one? Huh. Good for them, I guess."

I can't put it any better than this post did, really. The Volturi are real people, humans are nerds and tumblr having Loki discourse. Aro thinks it's delightful and knows entirely too much about Watergate (and let's be real, Loki discourse as well), but the point I wanted to get at is that politics really don't matter to vampires.

And I don't think they matter to the Cullens either.

So, moving on to the next point while regretting I didn't put headlines in this post, I'll just state that I don't think vampires' minds are frozen. Their brains are unable to develop further, and they can never forget anything, but... well, this isn't the post for that, but in order for this to be true of vampires they would barely be sentient. They would not be able to process new impressions, to learn new things, nor to have an independent thought process. Yes, we see vampires in-universe (namely, Edward, who romanticizes himself and vampires) believe they're frozen and can never change, but there is no indication that this is a widespread belief, or even true. Quite the contrary - Carlisle went from a preacher's son who wanted to burn all the demons to living in Demon Capital for decades and then becoming a doctor and making a whole family of demons. Clearly, the guy has had a change in attitude over the years. Jasper, in his years as a newborn army general, slowly grew disenchanted with his life and developed depression. James initially meant to kill Victoria and hunted her across the earth, then became fascinated and changed his mind about it.

Had these people been incapable of change, Carlisle would still be hating demons, Jasper would be in Maria's army, and James would still be hunting Victoria.

It goes to follow, then, that they are able to adapt to new things.

The question is, would they?

Here I finally answer your question.

So, we have these people who don't really have any kind of stake in politics, who keep up to date all the same (or are forcibly kept up to date because high school) and are generally opinionated people.

Where do they then fall, politically?

(And this is where you might want to stop reading, anon, because I'm about to eviscerate these people.)

Alice votes for whoever's gonna win. She also makes a fortune off of betting each election. Trump's 1 to 10 victory in 2016 was a great day to be Alice. MAGA!

The actual policies involved are completely irrelevant, she does this because it's fun. Election means she gets to throw parties. Color coded parties for the Republican and Democratic primaries, and US-themed parties for Election Night! (Foreigner moment right here: I at first wrote "Election wake" before realizing that's not what y'all murricans call it.)

Alice loves politics. Doesn't know the issues, but she sure loves politics.

Bella votes Democrat. She actually knows about the issues, and cares about them. This girl is a Democrat through and through.

Carlisle doesn't vote. I can't imagine it feels right. Outside of faked papers he's not a US citizen, this is meddling in human affairs that he knows don't concern him.

More, this guy has never lived in a democracy.

In life, Carlisle lived under an absolute monarchy that, upon civil war, became an absolute theocracy. From there he learned that vampires live under a total dictatorship.

For the first 150 years of his life, democracy was that funky thing the Athenians did in history books thousands of years ago, no more relevant to him than the Ancient Egyptian monarchy is to me. Then the Americans, and later other European countries started doing this.

Good for them.

There's this mistake often made by those who view history from a... for lack of a better term, a solipsistic standpoint. A belief that the present day is the culmination of all of history. “My society is the best society, the most reasonable society; all the others had it backwards. Thank god we’re living in this enlightened age!”

The faith in our current system of government is one such belief. We (pardon me if this doesn’t apply to everybody reading this post) have grown up in democracies, being told this is the ultimate form of rule, and perhaps that is true - but remember the kings who have told their subjects they had were divine and the best possible ruler based on that. Remember also that most modern democracies haven’t actually been democracies for very long at all, America is the longest standing at some 230 years (not long at all in the grand scope of things) and they have a fracturing two-party system to show for it.

Every society, ever, has been told they’re the greatest, and their system of government the most just. Democracy is only the latest hit.

This is relevant to Carlisle because he’s immortal and decidedly not modern. Democracy has not been installed in him the way it was the rest of the Cullens, Jasper included. To him- well, it’s just not his world. He has no stakes in our human politics, and as he is older than every current democracy and has seen quite a few of them fall, he’s not going to internalize the democratic form of rule the way a modern human has.

I think the concept of voting is foreign to him.

It requires a level of participation in human society that he’s simply not at. He does the bare minimum to appear human so he do the work he loves, but nothing more, and I find that telling.

As it is I think he'd be iffy about his family doing it. He won’t stop them, but in voting they’re... well it’s kind of cheating. They’re not really citizens, none of this will affect them, and by voting they’re drowning out the votes of real human voters. He does not approve.

Edward votes Democrat. He's... well he’s the kind of guy who will oil a girl’s bedroom window so he can more easily watch her sleep without being discovered, justifying it to himself as being okay because if she were to tell him to get lost he’d stop immediately. Same guy is so sure that he’d leave and never return again if she wanted him to, except this is the man who returned to Forks to hang around his singer, knowing there was a significant chance he might kill her. To say nothing of his Madonna/Whore complex, or of the fact that he tried to pimp out his wife twice, and was willing to forcibly abort her child.

This guy is very much in love with chivalry, with being an enlightened and feminist man who supports and respects women, while not understanding the entire point of feminism, which is female liberation.

He votes Democrat because he’s such an enlightened feminist who cares about women’s rights.

Emmett doesn’t care to vote, but if he has to he votes Republican. The guy is from the 1930′s, and has major would-be-the-uncle-who-cracks-racist-jokes-if-he-was-older vibes.

Esme doesn’t vote, that would require getting out of the house.

More, I just... can’t see it. I can’t see her being one to read up on politics and The Issues, period, but if she has to then I doubt she’d be able to decide.

Jasper doesn’t vote. Alice can have her fun, he does not care.

There’s also the whole can of worms regarding the last time he went to bat for American politics.

I imagine he stays out of this.

Renesmée doesn't vote. She has no stock in the human affairs. Who would she vote for, on what grounds? When Bella tries to pull her to the urns, she points out that she's three years old.

Rosalie, guys, I’m sorry, but that girl is definitely gonna vote Republican. Perhaps not right now as it’s become the Trump party of insanity, but the Mitt Romney type of Republicans? Oh yes.

And for the record, yes I imagine she does vote. To step back from politics would be another way she was relinquishing her humanity, and that’s not allowed to happen. So, yes, she goes to the urns, less for the sake of the politics involved and more because like this, she’s still a part of society in some way.

Now, onto why I think she’s Republican, I think it’s both fiscal and social.

This girl was the daughter of a banker who somehow profited off of the Depression, and who then became part of a family with no material needs that would soon become billionaires thanks to Alice. Poverty to Rosalie is a non-issue, as it is I imagine she views it as a much lesser issue than what she’s had to deal with. The humans can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Rosalie’s infertility is forever.

Rosalie’s empathy is strongest when she’s able to project onto others, and she won’t be able to project onto the less fortunate at all.

Then there’s the fact that the Republican party is all about traditional family values, and pro-life.

Rosalie, a woman from the 1930′s who idolizes her human life and who‘d love nothing more than to get to live out this fantasy, is down for that. And as of Breaking Dawn she’s vocally pro-life, so there’s that.

This all being said I don’t think Rosalie cares to sit down and fully understand these politics she’s voting for, the possible impact they’ll have- that’s not important. What’s important is what voting does for her.

TL;DR: I bet anon regrets asking.

[shihalyfie]

The difference between the friend dynamics in the Adventure and 02 groups

This is a point I’ve reiterated in a lot of my 02-based metas, but there is a fairly distinct difference between the Adventure Chosen Children having a tight, deep bond and yet not quite being friends in “social life”, whereas the 02 group was a much tighter group on a social level. I always feel that I need to be really careful about saying this, because if I don’t word it carefully, it sounds like I’m trivializing the Adventure group’s bonds (plus, a lot of Adventure diehards will get very upset at you for suggesting this no matter how you put it), so I thought I should write something a bit more in-depth about it.

I think a lot of of this ultimately ties into what each series was about. The fact that Adventure was meant to be a series about “self-recognition of the individual” whereas 02 was about “relationships with others” has been pointed out by many a fan (and official staff too, while we’re at it), and it naturally lends to how the characters and the relationships between them will have a fundamental difference.

The idea that the Adventure group wouldn’t be the type to get together all that easily never really took that long after Adventure to set in. Of course, Our War Game! having this as a plot point also had a meta purpose (basically, limiting the number of people who could participate in the Diablomon battle), but it also has a very important point behind it: the Adventure kids’ social lives were never all that intertwined.

Again, this is something that sounds really awful to say without further qualification. What do you mean, the Adventure kids weren’t friends? Does that mean their entire adventure was for nothing? Did they go through all that only to forget about each other right after it?!

Well, no, that’s kind of exaggeration. I think to properly flesh out the nature of the issue, it’s important to define the differing ways you can be friends with someone. Imagine that you go on the best vacation in your life. You meet a handful of people there. You swap stories and get life-changing advice. You take commemorative photos after some really spectacular experiences. You swap numbers and social media contacts and then you go home. Are you going to keep in touch every so often with the people who gave you some very important advice, and maybe check on their important life events or organize a reunion sometime in the future? Very possibly! Does that mean everyone you met at that trip will now be regularly going out for lunch with you every week now?...Probably not, especially if you already have friends from school. That doesn’t mean you aren’t friends with the important people you met during that best life-changing vacation; it just means that they fill a very different niche in your life from the friends who don’t necessarily understand the life-changing vacation but have the free time to chat with you over lunch.

When the Adventure group found themselves pulled into the Digital World during summer camp, they had already come from very different social spheres. In short:

Taichi, Sora, and Koushirou were the only ones with a background of knowing each other beforehand, thanks to being in the soccer club;

Yamato went to the same school as the others but was a stranger to them, to the point people didn’t even realize Takeru was his brother at first;

Mimi had her own friend circle (see Adventure episode 29);

Jou was assigned as Mimi’s camp group leader but had no other prior relation to her, and Yamato didn’t even initially know his age;

Takeru wasn’t even supposed to be there since he didn’t go to their school and was only tagging along with Yamato;

Hikari was brought halfway into the adventure by virtue of being the eighth Chosen and Taichi’s sister.

Although six of the eight come from the same school, you can see that they’re basically “kids brought together by a certain circumstance” -- they’re not kids who would have normally come into each other’s purview had it not been for this. Which also means that as soon as their adventure ended and some years passed, the aspects of their real lives and social circles started kicking back in:

Taichi continued soccer;

Yamato formed a band (and presumably had a good relationship with his own bandmates);

Sora quit soccer for tennis;

Koushirou quit soccer for the computer club;

Mimi moved to the US;

Jou started attending a private school outside Odaiba;

Takeru and Hikari were never in their age group to begin with.

In the case of Taichi, Yamato, Sora, and Koushirou, it’s representative of how, although they originally had a shared interest in soccer, ultimately, they started to drift into their own specialties. Again, remember that Adventure was a series fundamentally about finding yourself and finding your own path, and all of these choices actually tie into their character arcs: Taichi is a straightforward person and a natural, charismatic leader, meaning soccer was good for him to begin with; Yamato learned to become more sociable and make friends at school; Sora started playing tennis as part of properly reconciling with her mother, and Koushirou decided to pursue a club relevant to his actual interests instead of one purely so that he could have minimal presence in it.

Mimi’s moving to the US is an interesting case because it’s likely because she’s often described (by both fans and official staff) as someone who is easily likeable and can get along with practically anyone. Considering that she’s constantly considerate of others and lacking in condescension or malice, it’s easy to see why; her infamous bouts of complaining were largely because she was under a lot of stress at the time of Adventure’s events (it’s even said that her cracking under pressure was meant to be representative of how an ordinary child her age would react to the situation), and otherwise she has no problems making friends -- hence why she was shown in Adventure episode 29 as already having friends in Taako and Mii-chan that she presumably hung out with prior to the events of the series. So in moving to the US, the point is made that Mimi could move to an entire other country and still hit it up with people there (and she does, given how she makes friends in Michael and the other American Chosen without issue). So thus, Mimi’s moving is also part of her own path -- becoming an effective “ambassador” between international Chosen as they start to pop up all over the globe.

As for Jou, his character arc has heavily to do with the fact that he’s always been on the “elite” academic track -- Japanese school entrance exams stretch back as far as high school, so the fight to get into medical school comes back as early as here, and since the events of Adventure helped Jou come to terms with why he wanted to be a doctor rather than just following his father’s wishes, it’s understandable that he would now be putting everything into that goal -- even if it means going to a different school outside Odaiba and committing himself to the prep school life. And, generally speaking, the other kids respect that too, given that the only time they tried to pull him from it was a time they were literally suffocating on the spot and needed Ikkakumon’s specific backup badly (02 episode 16).

And finally, Takeru and Hikari? The fact that they’re that much younger than the others in this group really is a big deal. When they’re on something “purpose-based” like an adventure, of course the others will have no problem keeping them around, and of course they’ll be happy to participate with these older kids. But if we’re talking about mundane, ordinary life -- there’s not a lot of evidence to suggest they really would prefer the company of kids so much older than them for conversations over lunch. This is especially because it’s hard to imagine they didn’t have other friends at school, too.

Not that they mind being around all these older kids when the time calls for it, but as far as socialization goes, they have their own lives to live. And that’s fine; again, Adventure was a narrative about kids coming to terms with themselves and what they wanted, and it’s not their fault for prioritizing those paths and forming their own social circles rather than insisting on being a specific eight-person group (no matter how much the fanbase wants to have the romantic image of them sticking together all the time no matter what).

Plus, it’s not like they all completely drifted apart and cut each other off!

Just because they’re not “daily life friends” doesn’t mean they’re not still important to each other. 02 episode 38 has Taichi, Sora, Jou, and Koushirou show up for Yamato’s concert -- it’s unlikely they were attending every single one of his concerts, but this was a very important one that was going to be broadcast on TV, so it’s only natural that even Jou (who, again, doesn’t go to school in Odaiba anymore) would still come to support him.

In fact, the fact they can come together when a situation like this happens even without necessarily meeting up every single day of their lives is probably a testament to how strong that bond is in itself. They don’t need to hang out once a day or week to maintain their friendship, and having other friends they’d rather hang out with throughout the day or invite to events doesn’t necessarily mean the other Adventure kids are less worthy friends to them. That experience in August 1999 was so impactful on all of them that they will never forget it, so even if they spent quite a long amount of time not interacting with each other, when a circumstance that necessitates them coming together does bring them together, they can hit it off like nothing happened. Think about how you might have an important friend that you may not chat with on a daily basis, but you talk to them once in a while and hit it off like you never had a break in the conversation. But because that strong bond is based on that one very specific experience that happened in one specific summer, it’s only natural that the majority of meetups over this are going to be based on something to do with that experience, like Digimon incidents; for ordinary things like “band concerts” or “club activities”, it’ll naturally be easier to stick around friends who have more similar social interests, like fellow band or club members.

On the other hand, this is very much not the case for the 02 group.

To understand why the 02 group has a fundamentally different dynamic, we need to dial back to a little before the actual “adventure” part of 02 started.

Right off the bat, we see:

Takeru moves to Odaiba from Sangenjaya, and specifically to the same building Miyako and Iori live in, meaning he’ll be walking to school with them every day;

02 episode 7 indicates that the Motomiya and Yagami families live in the same apartment complex, meaning Daisuke and Hikari are also likely to walk to school together;

Miyako and Iori are established as having already long hit it off with each other as neighbors;

Daisuke, Hikari, and Takeru end up in the same class (with Daisuke and Hikari having known each other already).

In other words: Even before anything to do with Digimon had been introduced (or re-introduced, technically) into their lives, the kids were already being thrown into each other’s social circles. You could technically argue that Daisuke wouldn’t have necessarily met Miyako and Iori if not for the Digimon incident coming into his life later in the episode, but Takeru being neighbors with them basically fills in all of the gaps here -- unlike with the Adventure kids where the adventure in August 1999 threw them together when they likely wouldn’t have been in the same social circle otherwise, the 02 kids are the social circle even independently of the Digimon incidents. In fact, due to being functionally neighbors, there are a lot of ways these kids’ social lives intersect, with Daisuke and Miyako being Taichi and Koushirou’s juniors, Miyako working for Yamato’s band, Yamato being classmates with Miyako’s sister Chizuru, and Jun and Miyako’s other sister Momoe being classmates.

Since, again, 02 was a series fundamentally structured on examining relationships, you can basically view Adventure being a series about “bringing some people together as they find self-assertion even when they’re from different social circles” while 02 follows that up with “so if they were in the same social circle, how would they deal with that?” -- especially since 02 makes it clear that certain kinds of emotional baggage associated with that can actually make it much more complicated.

A lot of 02′s first half is dedicated to the 02 kids doing completely mundane things that have very little relevance to the Digital World conflict -- watching TV in the computer room (remember: this was before they realized the “genius boy” being covered on the news was actually relevant to this), or having a picnic in the Digital World. Mimi even explicitly points out that this kind of thing wouldn’t have happened with the Adventure kids, but it’s not just because of the fact that Adventure involved a lot of running for their lives! It’s easy to dismiss a lot of what happens in these early episodes as “filler”, but a lot of this is dedicated to depicting how the 02 kids were constantly spending time with each other for reasons completely separated from Digimon incidents. This even includes completely ordinary things like soccer games -- Takeru, Hikari, Miyako, and Iori come to support Daisuke with an obvious motive of seeing him do well, so it’s apparent that they’ve come to enjoy hanging out with him beyond just obligation.

Part of this is because of the different nature of the Digimon conflict that they experienced. The Adventure kids had an experience that really was, functionally, “one” experience -- an extremely formative and important one, but one condensed one that they all experienced together. The nature of what the 02 territory war and conflict was, on the other hand, meant that what the conflict “was” to the 02 kids was of a completely different nature. This wasn’t summer vacation; this involved going back and forth between the fight and real life, to the point where Digimon fighting became integrated into “daily life” -- so of course you’d probably hope that the people you’re fighting with are also people you like to bond with on a social level. “Digimon life” and “social life” became synonymous to them.

And when it all comes down to it, it’s hard to pinpoint a “single experience” that the events of 02 embodied, or at least in the same way August 1999′s adventure was. As much as they were running for their lives, the Adventure kids have the luxury of looking at the events of their series as a formative singular time for them, one that they could even look at nostalgically, but for the 02 kids, it’s hard to condense everything into one singular experience (it’s easy for the audience to see it as one series, but for the kids themselves, it’s a very long chain of vaguely connected events). Actually, most of the year involved fighting with someone who ended up becoming their important friend and the other involved helping him deal with his trauma, so it’s not like everyone would be likely to have the most romantic image of this experience itself to “bond” over as much as they care more about the take-home they got out of it: each other.

One thing that 02 doesn’t really spotlight front and center with its starter cast of characters is that, unlike the Adventure kids, who either came with their own social circles prior to Adventure or eventually developed their own in the course of their lives, it’s heavily implied that the 02 kids actually had difficulty making other friends even on a social level, or at least were likely to be in a situation where the other 02 kids really were better company than their other options even for mundane situations. This is especially in the case of the newly introduced characters, who are, effectively, a bit socially “displaced” from others and likely to have struggles fitting in.

There are quite a few signs that Daisuke had serious difficulty making friends prior to the events of the series (with Hikari being the closest thing he had to one), and the fact that the 12-year-old Miyako is portrayed as constantly hanging out with the 9-year-old Iori, brought together by being neighbors, rather than people closer to their own ages stands out. Iori is particularly interesting in that, unlike with Takeru and Hikari, who were portrayed as kids likely to socialize better with those their own age, Iori’s unusual maturity for his age heavily implies that he would actually be out of place with his classroom peers (a very common phenomenon for some people in real life, too!). 02 episode 3 depicting him left alone in the classroom with only a teacher to watch him while his stubborn fixation on principles leaves him slow to finish his lunch says a lot -- his own behavior is liable to isolate him from others, and it’s thus not all that surprising he ended up bonding with some kids who are older than him and more accepting (and even treat him with proper respect, too).

Takeru and Hikari, too. There’s been a lot of arguments over whether the two of them would theoretically be closer to the Adventure kids or the 02 kids, but I would honestly say it’s technically both at once -- they have the same “not socially close, but intuitively understanding” relationship that the Adventure kids all have with each other, but hold the other 02 kids as part of their social circle and hang out with them in “daily life”. So in other words, they have the Adventure kids’ relationship with the other Adventure kids, and the 02 kids’ relationship with the 02 kids. This is presumably why Takeru and Hikari end up hitting it off so well at the start of 02 even though they didn’t interact all that intimately in Adventure; not only do they have that shared experience they intuitively understand, they also were able to start hanging out in day-to-day life and actually, well, socialize.

This applies to them in relation to the rest of the group as well. While neither of them were necessarily portrayed as having social problems, one common thread between the two is that they’re both very emotionally closed-in. Takeru’s response to negativity is to cover it up with smiles, until he can’t hide it anymore and bursts (which scares the hell out of Iori in 02 episode 19 and ultimately forms the basis of their Jogress arc), whereas Hikari has issues vocalizing whenever she’s hurt or in pain (said by herself in 02 episode 31, but with precedent from Adventure episode 48). That means that, even with potential social circles at school, it’s unlikely they necessarily would have had someone they could emotionally bond with deeply off the bat (especially since Takeru had just moved from Sangenjaya), and it’s likely why they kept gravitating towards each other (despite never truly talking about anything in-depth for most of the series) up until the Jogress arc.

In other words, while the Adventure kids’ adventure of self-actualization meant that their relationships to each other were mainly formed on simply understanding that they had a similar experience and empathizing, the 02 kids -- full of a group of somewhat socially maladjusted and out of place kids, plus two who had been on the prior adventure but were young enough to now still be carrying some deep-seated, unresolved emotional baggage -- were in a position where they arguably needed each others’ help to grow.

Jogress isn’t just an obligatory evolution gimmick; it’s something very important to 02 as a series and understanding what it wants to say about relationships. I think one thing that makes me very sad is how often its constant pigeonholing as a gimmick makes me hear people saying that Daisuke and Ken was the only plot-relevant one and the rest were forced “spares”, saying that something like Takeru-Hikari and Miyako-Iori would make more sense. But when the point of the series is about building your relationships from scratch and learning to grow together, I really don’t feel that a story about relationships that naturally existed already would have helped it nearly as much. It’s not like Daisuke and Ken was that likely of a friendship, either!

This is especially in the case of Takeru and Hikari, who certainly were vibing pretty well with each other, but were still very emotionally closed-in with a lot of emotional baggage until the more to-the-point Miyako and Iori were able to break through their shells. (02 episode 13 is so often considered a “Takeru and Hikari bonding” episode, but while it does do a lot to show off the depth of their relationship that hadn’t been depicted much besides them just hanging out all the time, it also does not solve Hikari’s core problem in nearly the same way Miyako gets to the bottom of it in episode 31.) This is also why Takeru and Hikari have such a different relationship with the 02 kids compared to theirs with the Adventure kids; while they were largely tagging along with the older kids and learning a bit about inner strength back during their summer adventure, the 02 group is the one who not only provided them with friendship on a more equal peer level, but also poked deeply into their emotional issues that they very much needed others to help them out of. These are friends who finally get them.

That Ken ultimately becomes yet another addition to this group of kids in need of friends finding support in each other should go without saying -- after all, it’s made abundantly clear he was very lonely and friendless until Daisuke and the others reached out to him -- but it ultimately culminates in them choosing to integrate this lonely boy from Tamachi into their social life. (Remember: Ken is the only of the six 02 kids to live in Tamachi and not Odaiba, but the last quarter of the series has them going out of their way to meet up.) The episode that establishes that everyone has truly made their peace with Ken and wants to unequivocally support him (with the most originally stubborn against it, Iori, graciously accepting him) is sealed off with a Christmas party. A completely ordinary Christmas party that has nothing to do with the Digimon incidents at hand, where they can play meaningless card games and celebrate the little things like Ken laughing, because it’s not just forgiving him or learning to work with him, but actively enjoying his presence and supporting him.

The Digimon Animation Chronicle profile for Ken in Diablomon Strikes Back refers to him as Daisuke’s “best friend” (親友). Usually, the word for “friends” within Adventure and 02 would be nakama (仲間); you may have heard this word from One Piece fans, but this is a word that roughly means “one of us” and has a stronger emphasis on being in a certain group, or being like-minded. Thus, “you’re a Chosen Child like us,” or, more pertinently, “you have the same goal as us and we’re in this together” (after all, it’s not like being a Chosen Child was ever an exclusive club or anything).

But in the case of Daisuke and Ken’s relationship, it’s not just about having happened to gain a deep bond over the course of 02, it’s that Daisuke now really does have a sense of emotional closeness to Ken that the two are considered best friends by default -- in any situation, despite him living all the way in Tamachi. Even though the franchise loves to put them in the category that “protagonists and rivals” usually get, where most others are ones who tend to have friction but understand each other in the end, Daisuke and Ken are unique in that they’re not like that at all. They have a very straightforward sense of emotionally confiding in each other, at worst maybe lightly bantering a bit, but they are friends before anything else, and that extends to the rest of the 02 group as well.

The aftermath

On its face, it sounds like the 02 kids are getting a pretty luxurious deal -- they got a fun adventure of emotional growth out of it, and they’re tight friends with each other at that! Well, that probably sounds great, but there’s a flip side to all of this.

Firstly, as I mentioned earlier, the Adventure kids’ adventure in 1999 was a lot more “romantic” than the 02 kids’ eight-month-long ordeal. Sure, a lot of it definitely was stressful, what with the running for their lives and the scary villains and the emotional conflict, but there was also the part about getting to meet Gennai and the other friendly Digimon around and getting to explore villages. They were on summer break, so they didn’t even really have to worry about school (especially once they realized time dilation was a thing); it’s basically the epitome of the romantic coming-of-age story. (Fun fact: Stand By Me is really culturally influential in Japan.)

02, on the other hand, was an eight-month-long ordeal of having to fight a territory war crammed into the after-hours of school, juggling fighting this war with keeping it from parents, in a fight that would retroactively turn out to be against what would later become a heavily traumatized and beloved friend, plus eventually watching him get subject to even worse trauma. Oh, and the series also ended on witnessing a bunch of deaths (or in other words, the worst New Year’s Eve ever). While it seemed like the kids had the luxury of enjoying the Digital World in ways the Adventure kids couldn’t at first, actually, they didn’t get to enjoy as much of it at all, since they never got to form any lasting relationships with anyone like Gennai or Elecmon. These kids were basically too busy trying to keep each others’ heads on straight to really be able to focus on that.

The comparative mess that the 02 kids went through, and the messes that they kind of are, means that they’re rather dependent on each other for emotional support. This is not inherently a bad thing, mind you; the fact that some people are more independent than others is a simple fact of life, and the 02 kids (whether it’s from naturally being a bit misfit or from the degree of their experiences) being the type who grow together with mutual support isn’t inherently anything bad. It does, however, mean that they’re likely to have some difficulties ahead coming out of 02 as “growing up” conspires to make it more and more difficult for them to stick together -- after all, how many people have actually been able to stick with their elementary school friends all the way into adulthood? This is especially because Japanese high schools admit students by examination, and rank by academic ability; it’s not particularly common for those from the same elementary/middle school to attend the same high school, even if they live close to each other, and it’s very unlikely that all of them will be sticking together in school by that point.

So, how did they fare?

Well, before we get into anything else, we should probably bring up one thing that seems like such a tiny little detail but is actually very important for this: Technology didn’t stagnate at 02′s D-Terminals, and by the time of Kizuna in 2010, smartphones and group chats existed! (Earlier than they did in real life, at that.) This is actually really important because of how much it does for that question of “how to keep in contact when circumstances like school keep you apart” -- especially when the Adventure group would certainly appreciate the method to keep in touch despite their lives largely getting increasingly separate. That, and even more so if other similar technological things like social media existed; there’s a lot of ways to keep in touch despite physical and circumstantial distance.

Of course, they’d been keeping in touch via email since 02, but a group chat is much lower pressure and actively encourages everyone to keep in touch; think about how useful group chats have been for connecting with your own longtime friends. It’s ambiguous whether the 02 group was privy to this particular chat from To Sora given that they were clearly on call for incidents like the Parrotmon one, but it’s also entirely possible that this is a room for The Ones Who Went on That One Adventure in August 1999, especially since they use the Crests as their icons, and the 02 group has their own (let’s be real, they totally would; think about how many Discord servers with overlapping people you might be in right now). This, combined with the fact that the Adventure and 02 groups seem to have formed a sort of recon squad for the increasing number of Digimon incidents in Tokyo, means that there are actually a lot more opportunities to stay involved with each other than ever before!

As it seems, the Adventure group does seem to be rather emotionally close to the point that Taichi is willing to reach out to Yamato simply to dump his emotional troubles about his future career prospects on him (despite them going to very different universities at this point). Yet, at the same time, there’s still a palpable sense of distance going on here, and a depiction of Taichi and Yamato having developed separate social lives and their own friend circles -- Taichi with Morikawa and Nemoto, and Yamato with Abe (their names come from the novel), who are also acquainted with each other enough to talk about career and worry about each other.

When Taichi and Yamato talk over beer, they don’t even have updates on the same people (Yamato has to update Taichi on Sora and Takeru’s status), and ultimately, Yamato comments on their drifting -- saying that it’s a potentially inevitable part of choosing one’s path. It’s not hard to see why he says this; it’s been a recurring theme for them since after the events of Adventure. Sora and Mimi haven’t been around for Digimon incidents lately because of their careers, and it’s highly likely Jou hasn’t either; Koushirou keeps in touch, but our only depictions have been in the range of business and Digimon incidents.

But for the 02 group? Absolutely not.

The Kizuna drama CD has a lot about what the 02 group was doing (and planning to do) during their little “vacation” in New York. In fact, there’s a lot to go on about here:

Daisuke and Takeru show up together even though Iori was allegedly said to be “first” approached, meaning the two of them were basically hanging out anyway.

Daisuke insists on going on a trip that’s about his own personal career with friends -- and not just any friends, but specifically the group of himself, Ken, Miyako, Iori, Takeru, and Hikari. He also wanted his seniors along, but they were too busy -- but it’s pointed out that the other 02 group members aren’t exactly full of free time either, meaning that these five have a special place of importance to Daisuke in his ramen career trip.

Even the Digimon are aware of what the other humans (the ones that aren’t even their partners!) have been up to lately.

Miyako and Hawkmon say that it’s only natural for them to show up when the group is getting together -- i.e. being with this specific company is a fact of life to her, to the point she invents D-3 gate exploitation to be with them.

The group keeps saying “it’s been a while” for periods of time in which it is made pretty obvious it’s actually not a lot of time at all. (Miyako had just left for Spain to the point her coming back elicits an “already?!” kind of reaction, yet that constitutes “a while”, and the most likely very short time between the trip planning and the movie is also apparently “a while”, and it’s very likely that Takeru’s “a while” in greeting Iori may well have not been that long, either.) It really makes you think about how often the people in this group must be meeting up to think that this constitutes “a while”...

Hikari is ready to fight people for denying her the chance to play with Miyako.

Beyond that, they’ve all apparently been regular enough presences in Daisuke’s life for completely offhand comments and actions to have major impacts on his career thoughts.

In the movie itself, Miyako refuses to take on the exact same request that she ultimately gladly participates in with the rest of the 02 group in New York -- presumably, because the fact her friends are there makes it all better.

As it turns out, despite everything -- despite everyone going in completely different directions with their careers, attending different schools (Iori’s still in high school while everyone else is in university!), the 02 group has been maintaining this attitude of going out of their way to hang out with each other, in a sort of “we do it together, or we don’t do it at all” sense. Of course, that’s not to say they’ve all stayed so socially maladjusted that they’ve become completely incapable of making any other friends at all, but there is a very clear, strong preference of them wanting to be in each other’s specific company to the point that they would do ridiculous things to make it work.

So, you might be asking: what’s the trade-off?

Yamato attributes the alienation between the Adventure group to “choosing one’s own path”. Inherently, this is not quite right (nor is the sentiment that “choices are bad” in general), especially considering that Daisuke, Iori, and Hikari already made their choices in path a long time ago, yet are still behaving like this. The question is actually more of priorities; notice that while the older Adventure characters are mainly portrayed in Kizuna as aggressively pursuing career prospects, the 02 characters, despite having their current educational statuses listed in their profiles, simply seem to have this as not an object.

Iori’s still in school uniform; he’s arguably cramming this all between school club obligations. Ken, Miyako, Takeru, and Hikari don’t have their current educational status involved at all, and even though Daisuke’s ramen trip is technically for his future career, he’s also happy to just “play around” about sightseeing (and, again, there’s also no reason he needed to bring his friends for this). Takeru’s working on his novel, but he hasn’t actually decided it’ll be his career yet. It’s not about whether they’ve made choices or not; it’s about the fact they’re going about this remarkably casually to the point where maintaining their relationship with their friends is more important than career. And this extends to the 02 epilogue as well; compared to their seniors’ more prominent history-making careers, the 02 group’s is more low-scale and community-oriented (the only exception being Sora, but even that ties into individual ambition more than anything else, considering that not succeeding her mother is already a pretty big deal in itself).

The take-home

Adventure and 02 are both very well-known for showcasing people with different personalities and goals in life, and celebrating their differences. I think, personally, the difference between the Adventure and 02 groups’ dynamics is also something that reflects on the different ways to live one’s life as well. This is especially something that most of us can probably understand well now that we’re adults looking back at this, especially in light of Kizuna.

There are some of us who really want to do large-scale things in this world, and will need that understanding of the self to get there but may struggle with maintaining consistent friendships on that turbulent path, and have to adapt by managing the different levels of their relationships and learning to get along with different people in different ways. There are some of us who gain happiness more from mutual support with the people around us even if it means not ostensibly achieving as “great” things, and feel most comfortable with a single consistent set of friends. Some of us are in between, or feel elements of both as we try to experiment with things in life (actually, I’m pretty sure that’s probably most of us to some degree).

Think about your own life and future prospects right now, and then think about the friends you may be in touch with, or haven’t been in touch with for a while, or the ones you talk to for different purposes or fulfill different niches in your life. We’re all trying to straddle this balance; there’s no one right way to live.

[itsclydebitches]

YYH Recaps: Episode 1, Surprised to be Dead

Hello, all you hypothetical readers! It's a beautiful spring day and I have a free afternoon ahead of me, so what better time to start another massive project while I guilty stuff my other WIPs deep into the depths of my hard drive? Yeah. Iffy life choices aside, someone mentioned a few weeks back that they'd love for me to recap a show I have more positive things to say about than negative (RIP RWBY) and ever since Netflix announced that their live-action adaptation of Yu Yu Hakusho is in the works, I've been itching for a re-watch of the anime. With the RWBY hiatus underway, it seemed like the perfect time to fulfill both desires.

Before we begin though, I'd like to touch on a few things that are going to influence this project.

First, YYH is near and dear to my heart. Written by Yoshihiro Togashi in the early 1990s and later adapted for an American audience by Funimation, I had the pleasure of experiencing this story five different ways: as a serialized tale in Shonen Jump, a binge read when I had the money to buy the manga, tiny snippets of the anime on Adult Swim late at night — don't tell my parents ;) — as an after-school treat on Toonami, and then years later as a re-watch when I introduced it to a friend (who, in turn, blessed me by having us watch Fullmetal Alchemist next). I used to keep a Hiei bookmark in everything I was reading, the spirit gun made it into our witch-wolf-space adventures on the playground (middle school was wild), and there was a long period of my life where I tried very hard to teach myself to stand with my hands behind my back, precisely as Genkai does. Spoiler alert: I failed. So to say I love the series is... a little bit of an understatement. I bring this up simply as a way of demonstrating that there's more than a bit of nostalgia attached to YYH for me and that will inevitably cloud my reading of it. How can it not? So that's just something to keep in mind as I work through a series that, like any having hit its 30th birthday, has its outdated, flawed, and other questionable aspects.

Second, but very much connected to the first point, is that these are pretty casual recaps. I summarize and extrapolate, focusing primarily on plot and dialogue (but with the occasional cinematography aspect tossed in). I'm not conducting research on the cultural history here — something that will come up at least once in this episode — I'm not arguing an overarching thesis, and I've never been someone who focuses on the author/production/trivia of a series. I'm here for the story as the story is presented to the viewer. If you've read my RWBY Recaps, this will function precisely the same way, with the only difference being I'm engaging with a finished text as opposed to an ongoing one, so there’s a lot less, “Maybe ___ will happen” theorizing going on.��

Third, I obviously recommend that you watch the show yourself (you can find it on YouTube!), but you don't have to know the series to follow along. As these massive paragraphs attest, I tend to be both detailed and verbose, so we'll be covering every major plot point — and most of the smaller ones too.

Finally, I'm working from the dub. I know, I know, the horror. But it's what I grew up on and, honestly, I think it's superior to the sub. YYH's dubbing is in a class all its own and to this day there are very few shows that compare to it. Trust me, it's a good call.

That's enough of the boring chit-chat though. Let's get started!

Our very first episode "Surprised to be Dead" opens on a crowded street. We see lots of traffic, people going about their business, and a pedestrian crossing sign that, crucially, turns red. This is our normality and, like in every genre story, you need to break that normality at some point so that the protagonists can go on their fantastical/supernatural/science fiction journey. YYH eases us into things by first breaking the normality of an everyday afternoon: there's a screech of tires, quick shots of a man pushing a child out of the way of an oncoming car, and then his back is hitting the windshield. We begin this story with a horrible — but otherwise mundane — car crash.

Now, these flashes alone have a fair bit to unpack. Despite later getting a brief shot of the man's scared face right before he's hit, the moment's focus is really on the child. He's the one foregrounded in the initial, slow-mo shot. He's the one who appears in color while the man is kept in shadow. This isn't just a hit, it's a rescue. The camera is also careful to follow the soccer ball this kid was playing with (more on that later in the episode), with it flying through the air as the man is hit and bouncing to a stop in the street, acting as the dramatic finish. It's childhood! It's innocence! It's play on a sunny afternoon! And it's all gone wrong.

This moment is chaotic and even a bit confusing. Not in the sense of what's happening — that is quite obviously a guy being hit by a car — but who the victims are, how precisely this came about, or even why we're meant to care about this beyond a generic capacity to feel for other human (fictional) beings... that's all removed. And it works. As the crash takes place, the camera pans across the stunned crowd and we, the viewer, become a part of that crowd. They don't know what precisely is going on either. We're all just horrified onlookers as a sudden tragedy takes place. We're all watching the same show.

So everyone realizes this guy has been hit. People are staring in shock and someone calls for an ambulance. We see the driver fall to his knees in the street, distraught, shakily saying, "I didn't mean to..." It's a very serious and emotional scene that —

— is immediately tempered by this guy waking up, complete with a cute 'pop!' sound effect when he opens his eyes.

This is YYH's brand, this Very Serious Circumstances skillfully interwoven with casual indifference/comedy. It's admittedly far from a unique brand, but it's an excellent choice given that this is the same attitude that will drive 99% of our protagonist's interaction with the world.

Speaking of said protagonist, our guy wakes up, opens his eyes, and realizes that he's floating. There's a great, disorientating shot from his perspective where everything is upside down, causing him to nearly fall out of the air. Well would you look at that, he's as confused as we are. It's our audience surrogate!

A narrator says, "And so it all begins. This boy's name is Yusuke, he's fourteen years old, and he's supposed to be the hero of this story. But oddly enough, he's dead."

Game of Thrones might have made it popular, but YYH did it better.

(Yeah, yeah, I know one death kick-starts the journey and the other is a shocking twist. Just let me have this.)

Now, it's a weird introduction, right? At least at the end. The announcement that change has occurred, a name, an age... that all checks out. But "supposed to be the hero"? What the hell is that “supposed to” mean? Our narrator gives us the easy, surface answer: "But oddly enough, he's dead." We're capitalizing here on the audience's expectation that death ends a character's journey and though they may have been a hero previously, they can no longer be one moving forward. That function within the story has passed. So it's this intriguing question of, "What kind of hero do you have when that hero is dead from the start?" but as we'll see soon, there's an additional meaning here of, "How can Yusuke be the hero?" As this premiere sets up, Yusuke doesn't act like the hero is “supposed to” act. 

Until he saved this kid.

But right now he's just confused: "Okay, this is weird. Stupid weird."

Two EMTs arrive on the scene and are hilariously useless. You know how in any medical drama a doctor will stop CPR after a couple of seconds because obviously you're not going to spend half the episode on realism? Well, that's this only a thousand times worse. One guy just looks at the kid and announces he's fine except for some bumps and bruises. Meanwhile, the kid is sobbing.

"Well, at least one of them is," replies the other EMT, because I guess he can tell Yusuke is beyond hope without taking a pulse or anything? "I hate cleanup," he complains as they load his body onto a stretcher because that's? An empathetic response to have??

Honestly this scene is wild.

Yusuke is understandably upset that he's, you know, dead and all. He starts hounding the EMTs who, unable to hear him, just go about their business of taking the kid and his body to the hospital. "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on? You can't just write me off. Listen to me!" and Yusuke tries to punch one of the EMTs in the head, resulting in him floating right through.

What a great way to introduce your protagonist's personality. We see here that when things go wrong Yusuke's default emotion is anger and it starts creeping in even before he thinks the others are ignoring him: "Stupid weird." He has problems with authority — "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on?" — is used to others listening when he gets angry — "You can't just write me off!" — and is poised to use violence at the slightest provocation. Yusuke is a guy who, right now at least, is ready to punch first and ask questions later.

As Yusuke floats back up into the air and the ambulance drives away, he finally cools down enough to try and think his way out of this. "It's not like this is the first time you've been in a jam,” he thinks. Yusuke recalls that yeah, something was different about today...

...he actually went to school.

Catch me laughing that this idiot boy equates the weirdness of him dying with going to school. Good lord. 

Anyway, this jumpstarts our flashback. We open on a generic, anime middle school (that always feels like a high school to me) where the principal is calling for Yusuke through the loud speaker. Oooo someone’s in trouble! We follow a young girl up to the rooftop and she gets a classic hair-blowing-in-the-wind moment to  establish that she's our love interest. Meet Keiko Yukimura.

Keiko finds Yusuke hanging out and immediately starts lecturing him for trying to chew gum and refusing to wear the boys' uniform. "Oh, give me a break, Keiko. I look better in green." Note that it's here we learn her name and it's an easy, casual way to introduce it. I bring this up because Yusuke's introduction via our narrator is very much... not that. It's an on your nose statement about his name, age, and importance to the story, and if you're just starting the show in 2021, it might come across as a rather armature move. Like something out of a kid's show, perhaps. Yet here we see that this was a deliberate choice, considering that YYH is capable of introducing character information naturally when it wants to.

This moment also tells us that Yusuke cares a great deal about his image. More on that in a bit. Because Keiko isn't finished her list of grievances yet, going on to say that his attendance record has hurt their entire class, hurt her as class representative, and if he keeps going down this path he won't even graduate middle school. "Sometimes I think you don't care about anyone but yourself and then you don't even do that right!"

They're legit complaints. Too bad Yusuke is busy looking up Keiko's skirt.

Yeeeeah. Sadly, this is common for anime, particularly a 90s anime like YYH. Even presumably more progressive series like My Hero Academia feature characters like Mineta, whose entire personality is being a pervert, and the creation of abilities that "require" kids/young women to be scantily clad. See: Yaoyorozu. YYH is no different in this regard, with various forms of sexual harassment functioning as a shorthand for how much Yusuke secretly likes Keiko. "Boys will be boys," right? Obviously not. 

Like so many others series, the creators get away with it because they’re framing it as a bad thing. It's totally fine because look, Keiko slaps him! This is  teaching the viewer how wrong this behavior is. Never mind that this is clearly an established habit between them, that Yusuke laughs off Keiko's discomfort, and that the whole scene is meant to be funny for the viewer. That's the real purpose here; it’s not a PSA on harassment. 

That, and to establish the long-suffering love Keiko has for Yusuke in turn, largely stemming from a life-long friendship. "Dumb boy! He hasn't grown up a bit since he was four years old." We see that Keiko's early interactions with Yusuke have given her insight that others lack. As she heads down from the roof she runs into two girls hiding around the corner, too scared to come out lest "the great Urameshi" set his sights on them. Isn't Keiko terrified of what he might do to her? "Or worse, what others might say of it?" Like any classic high school middle school setting, one's reputation is king. Yusuke cares about how others see him — maintaining that tough boy attitude — and the girls care more about what the rest of the school might think of Keiko's interactions with him than the presumed harm Yusuke could do to her. They heard he can summon 2,000 men with just a whistle and that he "kills for fun!" But that means nothing in the face of people talking about you. Despite being one of the most popular girls in school, Keiko is the outsider here via her disinterest in what other people think.

The animation changes here, giving us a good look at how the girls picture Yusuke: tough, scowling, surrounded by shadows, and backed by an entire army.

In contrast, we've already seen what Yusuke is really like.

Keiko laughs the image off too. Yusuke is more like a "lamb" than a killer and besides, he couldn't order around two people, let alone two hundred. "He doesn't have many friends."

"That's not what I heard," says one of the girls. 

"Yeah," goes the other. "I think we would know." 

Again, rumors rule here, with whispers in the hall considered more reliable than someone who interacts with Yusuke on a daily basis. Keiko doesn’t have a hope of changing their minds. 

Oh, as a side note, I love that they gave Keiko Miyazaki-esque hair. It's very emotive.

Yusuke escapes outside where the principal is still calling for him to report to his office. He overhears a conversation around the corner and we cut to two boys, one of which is showing a wallet off to the other. He explains that some bully tried to rough him up, but he said he was Urameshi's cousin and the bully took off, dropping his wallet in the process. The guy's friend is impressed, but what is he going to do if Yusuke ever finds out he lied? Not to worry, he says, that "blockhead" would probably think it's true even if he did somehow hear.

Yusuke, obviously, does hear about this and he, also obviously, does not believe this guy is his cousin. He looms ominously and they scurry up against a wall, terrified and offering him the wallet as an apology.

"You think I want your money?" Yusuke yells.

YYH is, in many respects, a rather simple story, but I appreciate the hints of complexity in these otherwise straightforward interactions. It's not that this guy used Yusuke's name to steal a wallet, he used it as a form of protection against another bully — a far more sympathetic motivation. It's not that Yusuke's fearsome reputation has resulted in any genuine respect because once people think they're safe they reveal how little they think of his intelligence — he's a "blockhead." And Yusuke, though intimidating and violent, is not your average, schoolyard bully. He doesn't care about money, only the insult and the damage this guy using his name might have done to his reputation. There's a little more nuance here than you might otherwise expect.

Also, note how dark the boys' standard uniforms are and how much they blend into the rest of the world. Yusuke, as our protagonist, stands out in his bright clothing. He was right, he does look better in green!

So he's ready to clobber this kid when one of the teachers arrive: Mr. Iwamoto.

Iwamoto demands to know what's going on, but the boys are too terrified to rat Yusuke out. Noticing the wallet on the ground, he assumes that Yusuke was after their money, something that greatly offends him: "Whatever!" Iwamoto goes on to say that, "No good weeds like you should have been plucked a long time ago," making it clear that he considers Yusuke a hopeless case. The positive aspects that Keiko sees, as well as the complexity the viewer sees — to say nothing of his introduction of saving a kid — aren’t considered here.

Notably, Iwamoto exists in part to show us what Yusuke could become. Not a teacher (he's obviously not attending school enough for that!), but a cynical man who is cruel for cruelty's sake. Yusuke is already barreling down that path, ignoring Keiko's advice, terrorizing other students, trying to punch EMTs, etc. If his life (or afterlife...) hadn't changed through that accident, this is the kind of person Yusuke might have grown up to be, and we can see that clearly in the visual parallels between them. Dark haired men dressed in green who scowl with ease and toss out cutting insults. Yusuke is staring his future in the face.

For now he walks off with a final shot, "You shouldn't talk. It makes you sound stupid." This time Yusuke makes it to the school's entrance and tries to enjoy his second attempt at chewing gum, but someone hits him in the back of the head.

"Okay, somebody's DEAD — ah. Sorry, old man."

"That's Mr. Takenaka to you."

Our principal has finally left the office and hunted down Yusuke for himself! Putting this interaction immediately after the one with Iwamoto allows the viewer to compare them. Yusuke might be irreverent towards his principal, but it's clear there's still some kind of respect between them. Yusuke only starts threatening because he doesn’t realize who hit him and once he does realize it's Takenaka, he immediately apologizes. That "old man" comes across as a teasing insult and Yusuke allows himself to be briefly dragged back towards school, rather than throwing a now classic punch. In turn, Takenaka cares enough about Yusuke to try and keep him on the straight and narrow. He utilizes Yusuke's preferred language — violence — but in a casual way, nonthreatening way: slight hit to the back of his head, noogie, pulling him along by the ear. 

It's the sort of physicality we're used to seeing in media between a parent and child who are outwardly antagonistic, but actually share a deep bond. Takenaka is also careful to frame their return to his office as a "discussion," not a punishment, and offers Yusuke tea along with the conversation. Whereas Iwamoto considers Yusuke to be a "weed" that should have been plucked from their school long ago, Takenaka is determined to help Yusuke bloom.

If we're continuing the flower metaphor :D

Yusuke isn't in the mood to play along though. He gets away by using a fake ear, startling Takenaka when it unexpectedly pulls free. Yusuke escapes the school grounds and Takenaka, suffering a back twinge from his fall, can't chase after him. Poor guy. I understand that pain lol.

Yusuke heads home where we're introduced to his mother, Atsuko. Most notable in her first shot is the soft lighting that highlights her looks. We're not told how old she is here, but I believe she's around 28 — and she looks it, if not younger. Given that Yusuke is 14, that means Atsuko was a mom at his age. This is a quick and subtle way to tell us about Yusuke's home life. There are more overt details in this scene — it's at least lunchtime and Atsuko hasn't left her bed yet, she demands that Yusuke make her coffee instead of greeting him, it's all meant to imply (before we actually see) that she's an alcoholic — but her age is another way to highlight the broken household here. There's no partner in sight and she clearly had Yusuke as a teenager. He hasn't had a strong parental figure to take care of him. If anything, Yusuke is taking care of Atsuko here.

"Oh great, mother of the year!" basically sums things up.

Atsuko wants to know why Yusuke isn't in school and he says that everyone is pissing him off today, particularly with their preaching. "Dear, if you hate preaching so much you should live on your own... but you can't do that, can you?" Alongside a rough upbringing, Yusuke is suffering from the common problem of being trapped in a dead-end life. He hates his school, his town, and coming home to find his mom hungover. Yusuke has no prospects and, outside of one principal, no one who is actively working to help him find some. Even the little things he hates, like being preached to, are unavoidable because if you want to live on your own, that requires money. Good luck pulling that off as a middle schooler whose only skill is street fighting!

Yusuke walks off in a huff, literally shouting in a street about what a bad day he's having (and hilariously scaring off pedestrians in the process). His shout brings trouble though. A couple guys appear to ambush him, their boss close behind. The music increases the tension, Yusuke's expression is serious, and we even get a Dutch angle thrown into the mix. 

For any who don't know, the Dutch angle is a popular film technique to establish that something is wrong. There's tension in the scene, something uneasy is at play, and the world is now literally off center. It's perhaps most famously used in Do The Right Thing to establish the friction between an Italian-American pizzeria and the predominantly African American neighborhood it's based in.

But it's also used a great deal in horror as a way to say: yup, shit just got real. Scary real.

This Dutch angle introduces a character you may not appreciate at first, but absolutely should: Kazuma Kuwabara.

He's initially the comic relief and that's clear in his introduction. Within seconds we move from that intimidating arrival to, well, seeing him. To be clear, I've got nothing against redheads with big chins, but compared to Yusuke's design, Kuwabara is meant to be the funny looking one. His threat level plummets the moment we get a look at his face, especially in a series that will occasionally use looks as a (supposed) measure of intelligence. 

Also, Kuwabara is dressed in light blue so, like Yusuke, we know he's important!

Any assumptions that his appearance isn’t meant to imply a goofy, embarrassing personality are put to rest when Kuwabara starts rambling about how they last time they fought Yusuke just got a cheap shot in and he'll definitely win this time. Yeah, he won't. Yusuke is thrilled by this diversion though and we get a shot of him looking almost as creepy as Keiko's friends think he is. Whatever else might be said about Yusuke, he is absolutely a monster in a fight.

Which we see here. If anyone picked up the series without knowing this was a fighting anime, they'll realize it now. Yusuke's choreography is stylized to show off his skill: he disappears with a 'whoosh' and dark lines to suggest inhuman speed,

attacking Kuwabara with a knee to the face, utilizes flying kicks, lands perfect, precision punches, and ends it all with the toe-tip landing we've come to expect of all powerful fighters. Kuwabara never even got a hit in. 

Happy as a clam now, Yusuke wanders off whistling and Kuwabara's friends are left to pick up the pieces. AKA, his likely broken bones. I love that they're legit friends though and not just nameless goons for the sake of giving Kuwabara a small gang (though their names won't come up until later). "That makes 0 wins an 156 loses!" one of them cries, trying to get Kuwabara to stop ending up in the hospital, probably. We establish that Kuwabara is The Most Dramatic Ever when he pulls his broken body into a seated position, shouting, "No! I almost had him that time!"

Then he passes out.

Kuwabara, honey, you obviously did not almost have him, but god bless you for the outlook. The most optimistic thing on this Earth is a well-loved Golden Retriever, but Kuwabara comes in at a very close second.

With his dream to one day beat Yusuke in combat established, we cut to Yusuke wandering the street where the episode opened. "Okay, I'm remembering" he says in a voiceover. "After that I met the kid."

The soccer ball reappears as it rolls to a stop at Yusuke's feet. He grabs it and immediately starts yelling at the kid. Horrible protagonist, right? Well, Yusuke is trying to instill in him the danger of using this street as a playground, a worry the viewer already knows is 100% justified. “Listen, kid, that’s dangerous! There are cars going by that will splatter you into the pavement!” It's one of those quick moments where we get to enjoy Yusuke's duality: he's someone who is nearly making a toddler cry, but for rather understandable reasons. He's got the right idea, but needs to go about it in a more mature manner.

Which is precisely what he attempts to do. Sort of. Yusuke changes gears, though whether it's a more "mature" route is certainly up for debate lol. He tries entertaining the kid instead, raising and lowering the soccer ball to reveal goofy faces.

When these fail to impress, Yusuke goes full out by stuffing the ball into his pants, pushing his nose up with a pair of chopsticks he got from god knows where, and generally just putting on a display.

So Yusuke cares very deeply about his reputation... but only when it comes to those who are an established part of his life. Keiko, Mr. Takenaka, and the other kids at school all need to maintain a particular image of Yusuke, one that he's carefully cultivated. But random pedestrians on the street? Who cares about them? Let them talk.

This shows us that Yusuke does indeed have priorities over his own, selfish goals. Namely, the happiness of some kid is more important to him than looking "cool" for a bunch of strangers. Lots of characters with Yusuke's surface attitude would sneer at the idea of degrading themselves for — their words — some brat. But Yusuke, as we constantly see, actually does have that heart of gold. “Well, if all else fails I can still make kids happy.”

Although... I'm not sure what to make of his display itself. I have the distinct sense that there's something prejudiced here that I'm not able to fully articulate, what with the chopsticks, slanted eyes, bald head, and the like, though to be entirely frank I don't have enough knowledge of Japan's history to say precisely what it might be. Or, really, whether it exists at all. Just something to chew on.

What I am sure about though is the importance of having the child label Yusuke as monster — "Yeah, monster! — but in a delighted manner. Yusuke is indeed some kind a monster, someone who disappoints adults and terrifies his classmates, a demon fighter on the streets too, but here that identity is reworked into something positive.

Having successful secured a laugh, Yusuke tells the kid — calmly this time — to go play elsewhere. The toddler stares up at him with the blank expression only kids can manage.

Well, kids and whatever headspace I'm in after writing these metas.

To absolutely no one's surprise except Yusuke's, the kid does not go elsewhere. Instead, he continues kicking the ball down the street, causing Yusuke to exclaim, “Dammit, what’s the use? The kid can get smashed by a car for all I care!” Liar, liar. 

The picture becomes desaturated as the kid kicks the ball and it flies into the street, time slowing down to show it landing precisely in the middle of the road. Yusuke again yells for him to stay put, but when has a toddler ever listened? He begins to walk into the road as our driver arrives, speeding, swerving, and paying more attention to the girl at his side than what's in front of him.

This time, we see the accident from the front with both Yusuke and the kid presented equally.

There's a cut to black and when we return we're in the present, Yusuke floating above the policemen now investigating the scene. “So that’s it? I’m roadkill?” As Yusuke realizes he's dead, specifically that he's a ghost, a voice goes,

"Bingo! Bingo! You win the prize!"

A woman has appeared who is quite obviously othered by the standards of the episode so far. Unlike the greens, blues, and browns of the series' modern clothes, she's dressed in hot pink kimono with blue hair to match. She's also, you know, floating on an oar.

“I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly," she says, referring to Yusuke's revelation that he's dead. Apparently, those who meet unexpected and/or violent ends tend to take some time coming to terms with their demise. It's a nice acknowledgment of Yusuke's intelligence in an interaction that's otherwise... not great for his self-esteem.

Meaning, this woman is about to drag him lol.

She introduces herself as Botan, pilot of the River Styx and guider of souls to the afterlife. You might also know her as the Grim Reaper.

(Hey, RWBY fans: I originally wrote that as Grimm Reaper 🤦‍♀️)

It's an claim Yusuke takes issue with because 1. Botan is too pretty to be the Grim Reaper and 2. If she was really some god of death she'd be taking this much more seriously, not laughing and saying, "Bingo!" For the audience this does two things. First, it acknowledges our own expectations and validates them. Yusuke's world isn't so far removed from our own that he takes Botan's looks and personality at face value, he also expected a skeleton with a scythe. So don't worry, all the weird stuff in this series is weird to our protagonist too. They'll be explanations. Or, even if there’s not, you’re not wrong for being surprised. 

Second, it sets up the very common theme in YYH of undermining those common assumptions again and again and again. We've already seen it with Yusuke, wherein characters who look and act a certain way are, supposedly, destined to be that person and nothing more. Yusuke is meant to be just a "weed," a dumb, violent, angry loser who goes nowhere in life... but we already know he's more than that. Botan is supposed to be scary and serious, but she says nah, I want to be cute and bubbly instead. No character in YYH embodies who they're "supposed" to be when you look past those surface characterizations. They play the part of archetypes — and do keep certain parts of their expected personalities — but they're also far more well-rounded than that. Which yeah, is something most people expect from any story nowadays, but YYH is particularly adept at making you think you're watching Simple Show A only to turn around and surprise you with More Complex Show B.

It's great, trust me.

So Yusuke is pissed that Botan isn't adhering to those expectations, in the same way that he works hard to validate others expectations of him. He doesn't know how to deal with someone challenging his world view yet. Rather than angering Botan though, she just nods and says that this response makes sense for him. “Rather than being scared, or surprised, you yell a lot and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about." Taking out a notebook, she quickly summarizes everything we learned in the flashback — minus Yusuke's complexities: he's fourteen, in middle school, is ill-tempered, violent, hates authority, and is a horrible student.

Typically, Yusuke responds by getting angry and trying to snatch the booklet out of her hands, only for Botan to pull it out of his reach, laughing. The tables have turned! Rather than being surrounded by people who cower at Yusuke's imposed authority, he now finds himself faced with someone who laughs at his transparent attempts to take control of the situation.

Calming down, Yusuke wants to know if the kid he saved is really alright and Botan offers to let him see for himself. That offer produces Yusuke's first, genuine smile.

They fly to the hospital where a doctor is in the process of giving the kid a clean bill of health, his mother crying with relief. 

That's enough for Yusuke. “Alright, Botan, I’ve got no regrets, so you can take me to hell or wherever it is I’m going.”

That tells you all you need to know about Yusuke's self-worth, despite his bad boy attitude. His life is a dead-end as far as he can see and most of those around him haven't done anything to dissuade him of that idea. He says he doesn't care if the kid lives or dies, but then instinctively saves him. Post his death, Yusuke doesn't have anything he considers a regret, or anything he'd like to do before he leaves, like saying goodbye to a loved one. Oh, he's also pretty sure he's going to hell and has resigned himself to that without a fight.

Uplifting!

Botan just laughs though, saying that she's actually here to offer Yusuke an "ordeal" that could bring him back to life. See, he wasn't supposed to die today — let alone die saving a kid — and frankly they don't know what to do with him. It's another neat summary of what we've already learned: Yusuke is a far more complicated case than the afterlife assumed and now, when push comes to shove, deciding whether he belongs in heaven or hell is... muddled.

There's a fantastic story there about the problems with an afterlife that reduces a person's entire life to a few surface characteristics recorded in a book, refusing to acknowledge the context of their situation, or their capacity for change. “Run someone with your credentials a thousand times and they never would have saved a kid like that." Except, of course, Yusuke did save him, so those "credentials" are suspect, to say the least. However, YYH is not a story that explores these issues. Instead, I recommend you watch this!

Rather than being upset at the afterlife's low opinion of him (because let's be real, Yusuke shares it), he latches onto a little detail Botan let slip. If he wasn't supposed to die today... then was the kid?

Mmm... no. Actually, without the chaos of Yusuke jumping into the road, the driver would have swerved at the last second and the kid would have not only lived, but actually come out with one less scrape.

So Yusuke is obviously upset by this news! I would be too!! Holy shit, hang onto the "it's the thought that counts" message with everything you've got.

Also, don't think too much about the fact that the afterlife apparently knows exactly what will happen to people, down to how many cuts they accumulate in an accident. Also, don't think too much about where the afterlife foreseeing the crash begins and the unexpectedness of Yusuke interfering ends. That way lies madness. This will never come up again, so just let it go.

Sorry, 2013 me hijacked the post for a second.

As said, Yusuke is understandably upset by this revelation and as he fumes I'm reminded that this series likes to pull some amazing expressions.

Botan reiterates that it's all fine because Yusuke can come back to life. Weren't you listening? He should feel honored, in fact, considering that an offer like this only arrives every 100 years or so. Well, that explains why all of humanity isn't grappling with people coming back to life on the daily. One person every generation isn't going to cause much of a stir.

However, instead of jumping at the chance Yusuke announces that Botan is just like the teachers at school: she doesn't know what she's talking about. “You said yourself my life was kind of pathetic, right?” he says, going on to explain that everyone will be happier now that he's dead. His school won't have to deal with his behavior, Keiko won't have to nag him, and his mom will be able to party whenever she wants. It's a win-win for everyone involved. 

Hmm, this feels familiar. 

Don't worry, Yusuke doesn't need to experience a whole alternate reality to get the message.

“I’m sorry you feel that way at such an early age," Botan says and she is sorry, because despite her teasing nature that's a legitimately horrifying thing to believe. Yusuke won't budge though and after a little back-and-forth Botan leaves, telling Yusuke he should think it over while visiting his wake. She'll come back once he decides what to do.

“Do you have worms in your ears, lady? I did decide!” but Botan is long gone.

We cut to that night where Yusuke has indeed decided to attend his own wake. Maybe because of Botan's advice, maybe because he's just morbidly curious. We’re not given insight into the decision. 

Atsuko is a mess, to put it mildly, not dressed for the occasion and sitting slumped against the way, staring vacantly as the guests offer their condolences. Yusuke is surprised by the fact that his entire class is here, but quickly writes them off when he sees two of the boys laughing. I'm on the fence about this detail, which I'll unpack in just a second.

First though, Yusuke sees Keiko exiting the house, inconsolable in her grief. She collapses on the ground with her two friends trying to offer comfort, despite the fact that they had nothing good to say about Yusuke himself. Good on them.

Before he can think too long on this though, Yusuke is distracted by Kuwabara's arrival. Unlike Keiko's crying, he expresses his grief through yelling. Specifically, yelling at Yusuke. For dying. For daring to "run away." His own friends are physically holding him back as he charges into the wake, screaming, “Who am I gonna fight now, huh? Who am I gonna fight?" It's not really about the fighting, of course. At least, not the fighting alone. "You’re supposed to be here for me," Kuwabara finishes, the punch he's thrown at Yusuke's photo going limp and catching his first tear.

You know, for all the  goofy expressions, this show really is gorgeous. Just wait until we get to the fight animations.

Kuwabara's reaction is why I hesitate to write off the classmates like Yusuke has. Granted, we have no reason to believe that they care for him as Kuwabara does — they're nameless background characters defined only by their terror of "the great Urameshi" — but it's still a split second taken out of context. We don't know what they were laughing at, or if laughing is a part of their grief. God knows I personally laugh at the most inappropriate moments. If you tell me someone has just died there is a very good chance I will laugh awkwardly as I try to process that. It’s just a reflex. All of which I bring up not because these side characters are important, but because Yusuke's perception of his own worth is. The point of each of these moments is to show that those around him have always cared for him, even if Yusuke didn't notice. It's nice to think that extends to his classmates too. The variety likewise exists to show us how people grieve differently, with Kuwabara's friends not understanding that this is how he's working through the trauma: “This place is for mourning!” He is mourning, even if his way of mourning isn't as socially acceptable as Keiko's. So if screaming and throwing punches is valid, crying is valid, staring stoically in a drunk stupor is valid... why not laughter too?

Not likely, perhaps, but possible.

As an additional possibility to chew on, watching this premier again, it struck me how more emotional Kuwabara's scene is compared to Keiko's. Don't get me wrong, crying and calling Yusuke’s name gets the point across, but it's two seconds of generic grief compared to a much longer scene rife with intensity. When Kuwabara arrives the music swells and everyone is forced to pay attention to him. His grief is loud, violent, and given symbolism with his fist and the photo. There's more effort put into his reaction, frankly, so it wouldn't surprise me if fans started shipping them after this. That grief combined with an "enemies to lovers" possibility is a pretty potent mix. To be clear, Yusuke/Keiko is the (oh so obvious) canonical endgame and in the fandom Yusuke/Kuwabara can't compare to another slash ship that will turn up later, but this is a good example of how writers can craft some Very Gay Scenes without realizing it. When you have the girl crying prettily for a second and the guy absolutely losing his mind over Yusuke's death, questioning his purpose now, his support network, and then collapsing in grief... don't be surprised if your audience goes, "Oh hey, maybe they'd be a good couple instead."

But I digress.

The only people who are unquestioningly happy about Yusuke's passing are Mr. Iwamoto and his co-conspirator, Mr. Akashi. You know Akashi is another bad guy because he has bucked teeth and "ugliness" is an easy way to code for evilness. YYH is not immune to those mistakes :/

These two are really something else though, standing in the middle of a wake and claiming it's “too bad that car wasn’t big enough for them too," referring to Kuwabara and his friends. Wow! What stellar members of the academic community. Iwamoto goes on to say that Yusuke dying at least accomplished something good. Not, mind you, saving the life of a child, but rather looking good for their school's reputation. Akashi agrees, but says it's likely Yusuke only accidentally saved him while trying to steal the kid's lunch money. Remember, that accusation of theft is the one thing Yusuke has said outright that he does not do.

He's pissed listening to all this — wouldn't you be? — but knows by now he can't do anything about it. In another fantastic shot, Yusuke hovers his hand over Iwamoto's shoulder, desperate to grab him, when Takenaka's arrives there instead.

“What do you suppose is more disgraceful? That boy showing his misery, or your insensitive and idiotic words!”

HELL YEAH. You tell 'em, Mr. Takenaka.

Yusuke gets his third shock of the night at this passionate defense. Takenaka leaves the teachers to go pay his respects, but admits to Yusuke's picture that he just can't speak well of him. He was surprised to hear that Yusuke gave up his life for another and it's a fact that he acted selfishly. Though he doesn't say it in as many words, Takenaka explains that he's not grieving because Yusuke was a good person, but because it's so clear to him that he might have been. “Why didn’t you stay? You could have made something great out of yourself.”

Normally, "Why didn't you stay?" is just something for the living to grapple with, as the dead obviously don't have any say in what happens to them. But Yusuke does. It's here that the lighting grows soft again and Yusuke considers Takenaka's words. Keiko and Kuwabara grieve for who he was, but Takenaka grieves for who Yusuke could have been — someone that might still exist if Yusuke decides to undergo this ordeal.

Atsuko adds fuel to the emotional fire, breaking down and hiding her face in her knees.

Finally, the kid Yusuke saved arrives with his mother. Because yes, Yusuke saved him in every way that matters, considering no one else knows — or will know — that he'd have lived anyway. I like that the show doesn't allow that knowledge to undermine the emotion of their arrival, or what Yusuke’s act meant to them. 

The mom tells her son to pay his respects and the kid thanks Yusuke for saving him, and for "making faces." He clearly doesn't get what's going on here. This is confirmed as the two leave and he asks his mom if he can play with Yusuke again tomorrow. “I know some people sounded angry at him, but he’s really nice!" 

They're probably just crying because they want to play with him too, he thinks, which just makes his mom join in. Everyone is crying in this club tonight.

Those words are the cincher for Yusuke and with a brief montage of all the grief he's witnessed, he makes his decision.

We cut to later that night where Yusuke floats above the city, admiring the moon. Botan reappears and he asks, “Have you ever not known about something that seemed obvious to everyone else?” Yes, everyone has experienced that at one point or another. She asks if he's made his decision and Yusuke agrees to try and come back to life.

Emotional revelations out of the way, we're allowed another tone shift as Botan yells with joy, speeding off and causing Yusuke to grab hold of the end of her oar, lest he be left behind. Cranky as always, he demands to know where they're going. "To the spirit world, of course!" They're off to see someone who can explain the ordeal and give Yusuke the tool needed to complete it. Just hang on and enjoy the ride.

Thus ends our very first episode! Ah, the nostalgia. This is part one of a four arc series, with the anime cutting out a lot of the filler stories found at the start of the manga — a smart decision, I think. They primarily do the work of teaching Yusuke what he learned at the wake, so if you can accomplish that as quickly as the adaptation did, all the better. Especially since Yusuke needs to grow a great deal beyond the basic understanding that people might, sort of care for him, and that work will occur primarily through a job he's going to take on. The series isn't really about his death and it's not about an attempt to come back either — it's about what happens once you get that second chance. So this is the setup, but it's important setup all the same.

No need to skip ahead though. I've blathered enough for one recap. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you when the writing gods next bless me with energy! 💜

[newsies-and-the-nutcracker]

Newsies but it’s French (Canadian) pt.2

(aka me just getting increasingly frustrated the longer it goes on until I’ve completely lost whatever bits of sanity I had left lol)

~ king of new york scene ~

“We’re in the papes??” “You’re in the papes.” why do I find this so funny help-

“For the good of Jack, we can stop complaining...” not the whole thing but that sounds so out of character for Race I can’t-

After a quick google search, I can confirm that Race says “The world is at our boots.”

The newsies are very confused

Apparently he was meant to say feet.

“I’m talking about our feet!”

…

hOW IN THE WORLD IS THAT EVEN CLOSE TO ‘THE WOILD IS YA ERSTER’-

Okay I’m done

“My own face on a piece of wood!” good for you ig

“I’m respectful. I’m looking at you.” please-

“I am pretty, am I not?” yes race you’re very pretty

“My own bed and an indoor toilet!” wait… does that mean you literally have a toilet outside?? In the open???

“Nothing more normal for a famous journalist!” Irdk how I’m supposed to process this-

“Leave, idiot! It’s her, the king of New York!” guys is this actually what he says in English?? Race why are you so m e a n

“Some…” *checks notes* “depressive defeatists” ?? I just want to know how you got that from “Buncha wet noodles”-

“We were on the verge of drowning ourselves in alcohol.” WHY AM I ONLY NOW FIGURING OUT WHAT SOME OF THESE LINES MEAN AS I’M WATCHING IT IN F R E N C H ???

They cut out a lot of the background comments during the dance break and now I’m sad

After Katherine’s little dance: “It’s a joke, I hope.” wow

“You’ll see what the Delancey’s do in their pants!” that sounds so wrong I-

“Friends can leave, let them be!” I don’t think that’s what they were trying to say but okay

~ letter from the refuge scene ~

“There’s guards here, they’re mean.” WOW JUST TEAR MY HEART OUT WHY DONTCHA-

“If they tell us to jump, we obey, if not we’re screwed.” ow

“The rooftop misses me.” I give up.

“It’ll go. I’m in shape.”

“End.” the only time they decide not the put ‘the’ unnecessarily in front of something-

“Good, that’s enough.” how rude

yeah that’s all for that song. I hope you guys weren’t actually expecting me to find much humour in that one

~ watch what happens reprise scene ~

“You are a love.” ??

Guys where I live if you say “tant mieux pour vous.” it means “Too bad for you” and that’s literally what Jack just told Davey-

“Stop. I understand. It’s useless.” eh close enough

“Good blood, where do you have to go to avoid you guys?”

“It’s impossible. We are inevitable.” since when did Davey actually become Thanos?

“And this here girl, Sally, she’s great.” :(

“We say that you wrote a good article.” “You seem horrible.” they’re much more salty in this version-

“Yes, it’s true. And, he is dead.” uhh guess who’s not going to Santa Fe-

“We can forget that and go back to work?” the person who wrote this had a real passion for butchering Les’ lines lol

“Be positive. No one is dead.” mmmmmmmmmmm-

“Is that what you’re hoping for??” MMMMMMMMMMMMMM-

“There’s no question of cents, Jack!” yk what? sure. i don’t even care at this point-

“We’ll do what?” he sounds like he doesn’t even want to win.

“We’re already winning.” “Agreed.” ABORT ABORT THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO S A Y JACK-

“And ‘voila’ why I think that Joe is an idiot. It’s a rattlesnake.” “... Yes.” you heard it right here, guys. if it’s a rattlesnek, it’s an idiot

“And you know why a snake whistles?” WHAT

“He is scared.”

“Go see, the poor of the head that’s spinning.” This is shredding whatever bits of sanity I had left-

“Why send the brutes?” idk why Davey

“You have maybe reason!” “Thank you!”

“And I have an appointment!”

no but when you say you have a ‘rendez-vous’ here where I live, it means you have like a doctors appointment or something lol

~ the bottom line reprise scene ~

“After his release, I surprised him myself!”

“If that’s the case, we’re going to bring him in... in softness.” nice of them

“... or the little thief?” I’m really starting to think that they lack like 99% of words in the French language-

“I was fighting in a war.” “And that turned out well for you?” get wrecked joe

“Rally as much as you want, no journal in town will talk about it.” guys I don’t have enough serotonin for this-

“Everyone here knows you’re horrible!” they made Jack sound like a little kid in the translation, and honestly I’m not even disappointed lol

“We’re missing time, little.” I don’t even know what to say-

“Your abject surrender was always the bottom of the problem.” sure why not

“Gentlemen, escort our guest to the cave-” well isn’t he nice?

“Be happy you’re alive, little. That’s the essential.”

“Yeah, so go!” ?? how is that even remotely close to “Yeah, so behave!” ??????

“I exercised my favourite American punch!” uhhhh good for you?

“You can sleep here, on this old press! It’s very firm.” help I’ve fallen and I can’t get up-

~ brooklyn’s here scene ~

“The sellers need our help! The sellers need our help! Tell them that Brooklyn’s arriving! Tell them that Brooklyn’s arriving!”

“We’re from Brooklyn, we’re the sellers from Brooklyn!” UHHHHH EXCUSE ME???

“We just learned that our friends are going wrong!” please you heard they were ‘going wrong’ like five days ago-

“You know we’re there for you, since always.” oH rEaLlY???

“Brooklyn is there!”

“Strikes aren’t nice, but they’re passionate!” well I’m glad you think so

“Let’s shout it, Brooklyn is there!”

“Aaaaand sooooooo!!” “Sooooooooo!!” “Soooooooooo!!!” “We will send you half road, just to Queens!”

“The pigeons are going to get soaked!” aaaaaand we’re back to the pigeons-

“What sad way to finish your career!” they sound so sarcastic I can’t-

“They’re not serious, but if they think we’re laughing…” i feel low-key threatened-

“Let’s shout it!” well if you try hard enough, you can make it sound like “loud and clear!”?

“Manhattan is theeere, Flushing is theeere, “Richmond is theeere, Woodside is theeere, and the Bronx too!!”

“Sorry, little. No news of him.” I just… why does it translate to “little”?

“You are alone, we could say.” “No.” “Yes.”

Medda really isn’t taking no for an answer-

“The sellers of journals of New York!” I’m crying why is it such a mouthful-

“You want to be treated like an adult? Act like an adult!”

~ something to believe in scene ~

“It’s Specs!” wow kath throw specs under the bus like that-

“And if I was a boy you’d be looking at me with a butter black eye!” I’ve officially given up on the French language I’m sorry-

“You win a fight when the other guy bites the dust.” and another one gone and another one gone-

“If there’s a way I could grab hold of something,” has literally been shortened to ‘if I could.’ IF I COULD-

“If I could stop time.” I’m so mad

“Really?” “Really.” ahhHHHHHHHHHHH

“But it’s going. It’s going.”

“... who didn’t even know she gave me a hope.” WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT IF THE TITLE ANYMORE??

“But it’s going. It’s going.” The thrilling sequel

“No. I’m scared of you.” “No!” yeesh-

“I believe in something.” good for you

~ once and for all scene -

“He is with us.” but like… how much?? only 99 percent????

“We could hold a hoedown here.” I feel like the person translating this just gave up by the end of the show-

“Happy to have found you again.” what did you like lose him or something

“The close.” ok yes that’s funny, but it gets even funnier when you realize it could also be translated to “the farm.”

“A little grease, and she’ll be like new.”

“This is for the guys who kill themselves at the factories.” w h a t

‘THE BANNER OF SELLERS OF JOURNALS’ I’m still not over this

~ everything that comes after that ~

“Anyone who doesn’t act in their own self interest is an idiot!” ey watch it-

also what the heck is ‘quiconque’ I swear I’ve never seen that word in my life

“We will find a way, but let’s seize the moment.” first it was “the chance” and now it’s “the moment” google translate are u okay-

They really went and changed ‘bully’ to ‘monster’ didn’t they

“You can make it.” he really makes it sound like Jack is about to die or something-

“It’s disgusting!” you’re disgusting sir

“And the world will know, we’ve been taking notes.”

“It’s a joke!” nope lol

“Goodbye, fool!” I’M LAUGHING WAY TOO HARD ABOUT THIS-

“Well you already work for my father.” “Yes.”

“Super, Jack Kelly!” I CAN’T-

“So, Jack, you’re staying?” yeah sure close enough-

“Sellers of journals on a mission!”

Das it ‘my friends’ lol. Hope you enjoyed.

[finitepeace]

this week i read...

Darling, Keep the Lights On (Until I Get Home) by capsicleironman  💙

Summary: When Steve Rogers is awoken from the ice early, he is assigned as the personal assistant to Tony Stark, the man on TV with the strange glowing light in his chest. The plan was simple - protect and gain intel. It was supposed to be just another job, but then again, nothing in Steve's life has ever gone according to plan.

Iron Man 2 Divergence where Steve ends up working for Tony instead of Natasha, and his interest first in the arc reactor and then in Tony himself, leads him through the events of the Avengers, Iron Man 3, and Captain America 2.

17k words 

It's Only Half Past (The Point of Oblivion) by LadyHabren (equalopportunityobsessor)

Summary: "I think it's generally agreed that all of Steve's senses are powered up by the serum? He can hear people whispering on the other side of the room, probably sees a hell of a lot further, etc.

But there are definite downsides. How does Steve control this side effect of the serum?"

Captain America is more than a man - he is a hero, he is an ideal, he is pure muscle held together by patriotism and moral fibre... And not even Captain America can fight it when his own brain turns against him.

4k, sentinel/guide au, not set in mcu, 

Do-Over by gottalovev  💙

Summary: Steve woke up six months ago into a future that leaves him indifferent. There is work, and not much else. His current mission is a basic search and rescue operation to retrieve an American who was kidnapped by a terrorist group ten days ago. He won't let the fact that the hostage is Howard's son be a distraction.

14k words, ironman 1 - 2 but with steve on it!, 

Calls Me Home by steve-capsicle-rogers (adorable_lab_rat)

Summary: Tony can't help but notice the far away look on Steve's face. The visible pain and loss. It wasn't right and giving Steve back everything he'd lost was the right choice. The right thing. And honestly Tony didn't do the right thing near enough.

9k words, post avenger 1, tony time travels to victory day with steve to make him happy 

Memorial by hanyou_elf

Summary: Here rests in honored glory an American Soldier known but to God.

Steve visits Arlington's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in lieu of visting the tombs of those he's lost.

600+ words, steve visits his grave and tony supports 

Damaged by orphan_account

Summary: Prompt: Can you write a story where Tony is having heart problems again even after the shrapnel and arc reactor is removed, like he needs a pacemaker or something please? :)

Steve is worried about Tony after the doctor tells them Tony needs a pacemaker. Tony being Tony decides to build something better.

2k words, arc reactor + health problem 

Warning by laireshi

Summary: Tony's left arm hurts.

100 words, angst post-civil war au 

Told You Dirty Jokes Until You Smiled by ChibiSquirt  💙

Summary: Steve was waiting at light, casually checking out the man in the car behind him, when his phone pinged.

75k words. WIP T_T . steve is cap but tony isnt ironman (yet?). steve is awaken before ironman 1 and meets tony, proceed to have friends with benefits arrangement... 

blood, Lies, and Love by Ridley160

Summary: When Steve Rogers volunteered for Project Rebirth they told him they would make him a hero. No one bothered to tell him that the serum would change him into a monster that needed to feed on the blood of the living for survival. Now he has woken up 70 years in a future where there are more like him and his affliction is now seen as gift. Only Steve is convinced that he is at his core still just a monster.

Then he meets the brilliant, quirky and charismatic Tony Stark, the only person in this crazy new world that seems to understand Steve's misgivings about what he is, but Tony is haunted by something. A secret he has carefully guarded for many years that forced him to push everyone away.

33k words in 13 chapters, steve is cap + a vampire but tony isnt ironman, 

Blood Loss by wisia

Summary: The serum really did work a miracle. It created Captain America, and Tony would like the serum to work a miracle on him too. If only he didn’t fall in love.

5k words, set in captain america 1st avenger, tony is scientist/adventurer looking for a cure for his heart problem 

scientific Heresy by antigrav_vector

Summary: In the process of running the particle accelerator in his basement and fixing the arc reactor, Tony finds himself flung into the past where he has to take on a fight not his own if he wants to get home to stop Vanko. At least he had a chance to replace the old rector that had been killing him with the new one before everything went sideways... But now he has no choice but to face off with family, friends, and old heroes, and none of that sounds remotely appealing. Well, okay, getting to meet them all during their glory days kinda does.

But as it turns out, they're not exactly what he imagined, and his path home is a lot longer than he'd hoped it would be.

And a lot more complicated.

34k words in 12 chapters, time travel au @ cap 1 and ironman 2, steve/tony/bucky 

we will meet in another life by theappleppielifestyle

Summary: Tony is there instead of Howard during Project Rebirth. He ends up following Steve into the Howling Commandos, into the Atlantic ocean and into the 21st century.

6k words, canon divergence. 

Keep on Beating by itsallAvengers

Summary: There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

6k words, self-sacrificing tony strikes again and steve is upset.. so tony comes to a solution... 

Coming Up Roses by NobodysBloodyPrincess  💙

Summary: Those with a death wish referred to the High Commander’s infatuation with the late Tony Stark as an ‘obsession.’ They were wrong. It had to be more than that, after all there was no word for what the High Commander was about do in the name of making things right.

No one gets a redo of life… no one except High Commander Rogers that is. Everything is coming up Roses and Sunshine for him. After all, he has a dream and it’s going to come true.

41k words in 3 chapters, beautiful but a bit dark and sad, just like the author said: “‘i’ll be with you till the end of line’ but stony”, definitely one of the best fic i’ve read because THEY ARE HAPPY T_T 

The One With Bucky's Biggest Fan by justanotherpipedream

Summary: Steve still can’t believe how long it took for him to notice. It wasn’t a secret really, just something that no one had cared to ask...it honestly took Rhodey pulling him aside and pulling out an old photo album, before Steve really understood.

Tony Stark was a Bucky Barnes fan.

(aka The one where Tony is the biggest Bucky Barnes fanboy, Steve is a supportive boyfriend, and Bucky is perplexed by it all.)

2k words, it’s all in the summary 

Sins of the Mother by skullshy  💙

Summary: All she could see when her eyes closed was Steve’s face in the courtroom. Stern, pained— with that fucking all-American self-righteousness.

Toni wondered for years whether it would have made a difference. Told him that she was pregnant, that Ultron was to protect their baby, and how sorry she was.

On her worst days, she imagined it wouldn’t have mattered.

23k words in 23 chapters, female tony stark, civil war (or age of ultron?) canon divergence 

So this is bonded life by Captainstark12

Summary: Steve had been protecting the human village from hydra creatures like him for five years. And now he was ready to take his prize as he had the privilege of choosing an omega to bear his child. Hopefully his chosen omega human would want him back as much as he wanted him

4k in 6 chapters, mythology au 

I don't think there's a manual for this by itsallAvengers

Summary: So. His son can stick to things, apparently.

If only Tony had realised this before he'd caught him hanging off the 89th floor of the tower.

Well. Parenting was never going to be a smooth road, was it?

2k words, stony adopts peter parker and then they become superfamily 

For Your Eyes Only by SarahHBE

Summary: Every soldier looks forward to mail call. But Alpha Steve Rogers gets a big surprise with the letter his Omega, Tony Stark, has sent him.

2k words, explicit bcs of sexual content 

It Was Just A Matter Of Time by babynative

Summary: The clock was ticking. And then, black.

719 words, civil war canon divergence, angst 

This Can't Be The Last by MusicalLuna

Summary: Hours after a mission ends, Tony's heart starts to race.

1k words, tony had a heart attack, but not angst! 

The Billionaire and the Army Captain by Neverever

Summary: Facing finanical ruin and needing to care for his sick daughter, Steve Rogers agrees to marry Tony Stark, who needs to get married by his 30th birthday to inherit. It's just a job for Steve until he starts to fall for the enigmatic billionaire.

12k words, non-powers au, 

Adopt by greenteeth  💙

Summary: Steve's life is the same as usual. He goes to work, fights super villains, banters with other Avengers and goes home to an empty apartment. Until the son of an old friend shows up asking for help, well sex first, then help. Suddenly Steve is married, fighting super villains, worrying what Obadiah Stane and coming home to Tony most nights of the week.

42k words in 17 chapters, ABO, tony is not iron man, the story is complete but it’s a part of series that seems to never see the light T_T 

The Act of Creation Will Be Your Salvation  by scifigrl47  💙

Summary: When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

84k words in 8 chapters, stony but mostly looking through his AI bots a.k.a. jarvis and dum-e, definitely one of the best fics ever! 

Bewitched, Body and Soul by iam93percentstardust

Summary: Almost ten years after joining the British Army, Steve Rogers returns to his childhood home after his mother's death. The house seems quiet in a way that it's rarely been. But the peace is shattered when his oldest friend stumbles into his home and into his life, seeking an escape from an arranged marriage to a cruel lord. Steve provides that escape but finds himself engaged to be married instead. This wouldn't be a problem - except that Steve is, always has been, and always will be deeply in love with Tony Stark.

16k words, regency AU, ABO,  the classic stony misunderstanding trope 

Right place, right time by hkandi, ralsbecket

Summary: An alternate take on the Captain America: The First Avenger movie. Tony is working with his dad to help out the SSR on this new project, though he and Steve happen to run into each other before that, and sparks fly from the start.

8k, CA: First avenger AU with tony stark present

[sturchling]

A new girl shows up and takes Lila's spot but instead of lying she's actually does them but she's two face and tries Lila worse than Lila treats Marinette and Lila looses her followers whenever she tries the same tactics and up like Nettie(who switched classes) Lila for the first time is genuinely miserable like Mari for real ( will give u an idea 4 a sequel after this)

Here you go! Sorry it took longer than I would have like, but I had sudden job interview. Now that it is over, I had some time to write! :)

Hope you like it!

Lila was happy with how things were going in her life right now. The class was completely under her spell. They believed anything that she says and look at her like she hung the moon. She had succeeded in making that pathetic Marinette miserable. Marinette was so miserable she even switched classes. Sure, Adrien knows she is a liar. But Adrien can’t say anything, since Mr. Agreste has forbidden it. Yeah, life was going well for Lila. That was, until, Sadie arrived

 ----------------

It had been a normal weekend for Lila, she had been coming up with new stories to tell the class on Monday. She was sure these new stories would keep the class singing her praises for a while. As she walked towards class, she heard the class already chatting excitedly. It is common knowledge that Lila doesn’t like attention not being on her. So, she got ready to tell another story, to get the focus back on her where it belonged. Not like the class was talking about anything important, probably just talking about whatever stupid thing they had done that weekend. But just as Lila entered the classroom, a new lie on her tongue, when she noticed someone new.

  ----------------

The class was surrounding a girl that Lila didn’t recognize, and this girl was sitting in Lila’s seat. This girl had long black hair that reached to the base of her spine, and blue eyes. She was wearing a yellow floral sundress, with a black cardigan and black flats. Lila was furious seeing this strange girl sitting in her seat. Lila had worked hard to manipulate her way into that seat by Adrien, and she wasn’t just going to let it go. She sauntered up to the group, “Well, hello. Are you new?” Alya turned, now realizing that her bestie had arrived, “Oh, Lila! Good morning. This is Sadie, she just transferred here from America. Her dad is a marine and has been stationed to guard the American embassy here in Paris. She was just telling us about some of her adventures. Can you believe it, it sounds like you two have been running in the same circles!” That confused Lila, what did Alya mean by that? “What do you mean Alya?” “Well, Sadie was saying how she has also worked for several go-green organizations, and has also helped out a bunch of celebrities. She also knows a bunch of Hollywood actors, from when her dad was stationed in San Diego. She even has tinnitus like you, she and her dad were visiting a friend at an air force base and she got lost. She wandered to close to a plane and nobody noticed her so her hearing was damaged. That is why she is sitting up front too. You guys can be desk mates!” Lila paled at that. She had worked so hard to get a seat next to Adrien. “But Alya, what about Adrien? Where will he sit?” “Don’t worry Lila, Adrien was fine with the seat change since another student needed to sit up front. He will sit where Marinette used to, near Nathaniel.” Lila was fuming, but she couldn’t exactly do anything about it without looking bad. So, she just smiled and played along, sitting down in Adrien’s old spot.

  ----------------

The rest of the morning hadn’t gone any better for Lila. She had tried several times to get the attention back on her, but no matter what she did, the class only wanted to talk to and about Sadie. It was infuriating. Not even Lila’s new stories were enough to capture the class’ attention. Anytime Lila mentioned something she had done, Sadie had done it too, but bigger and better. Worse yet, is that Sadie appeared to be telling the truth. The go-green charities that she claimed to help start, all had official websites and awards and Sadie was always listed on those websites as a founding member. There were even videos of her at some of the award ceremonies. Sadie also had pictures with every single celebrity that Lila had also claimed to know.  And not just one picture, like they had just happened to meet by chance, but several pictures. Some looked like they had even been taken at parties. And when Mrs. Bustier had finally arrived, Sadie had an actual doctor’s note for the tinnitus. The little brat had been telling the truth all morning.

  ----------------

Lila hadn’t been this angry since Marinette had challenged her. This meant that Lila would have to go to war again. This Sadie girl seemed just like Marinette. Kind and sickeningly sweet. Lila thought this meant that Sadie would be just as easy to destroy, but she was very wrong. The next day, Lila cornered Sadie in the bathroom and threatened her. “I don’t like sharing the spotlight newbie. So, you are going to stop trying to hog all the attention. I worked hard to become the queen in this class, so you can either bow down or get out of the way. I already eliminated that Marinette girl and I can do the same to you too. The choice is yours, you can either give me back the attention I deserve or I can destroy you.” Sadie just smiled at Lila, but in a way that felt very threatening. “No, here is what is going to happen. Alya told me all about your stories and it is clear that you are lying. I am the real deal. The rest of the class already thinks I am a saint. You may have been the queen, but your reign is over. I am in charge now. If you tell the class anything about this conversation, or try and ‘destroy’ me I can promise you the only one that will be destroyed is you. I may seem nice, but I am not some push over, and I will not be dictated to by some liar who is so desperate for a cool life that she had to make one up. As far as I am concerned, we are enemies. I am going to make your life hell-” Sadie seemed to want to say more, but just then Rose poked her head into the bathroom and told them it was almost time for class. Sadie quickly wiped the glare from her face and smiled at Rose. “Thanks Rose, I’m coming. See you in a minute Lila.” With that Sadie walked out of the bathroom, chatting happily with Rose. Lila was shocked. She had thought that Sadie was a goodie-two-shoes, she hadn’t expected her to be so cold and hostile. If Sadie wanted to be enemies, then Lila was willing to play that game.

  ----------------

Despite Lila’s best efforts, nothing was working. Sadie had quickly become the class darling and everybody loved her, much to Lila’s annoyance. And what was worse was that Sadie had started tormenting Lila. Lila had never gone so far as to physically attack Marinette herself, but Sadie had no problem attacking Lila every time the two were alone together. So far, Sadie had tripped her close to a dozen times, trapped her in two closets, and had even spilled food all over her. But the class never saw any of this happen. Sadie was really good at finding just the right moment to strike. Lila had tried talking to the class several times, but they never believed her. “Oh Lila, Sadie wouldn’t do that.” “It must have been someone else.” “Maybe you just got confused.” Lila was at the end of her rope.

  ----------------

What was worse was anytime that Lila tried to talk to the class, Sadie started to poison the class against her. It started small, Sadie started asking the class, “How could Lila say I would do all those mean things? Did I do something wrong?” The class fell all over themselves to tell Sadie she hadn’t done anything. Then the class began to wonder why Lila was so insistent it was Sadie. When Lila didn’t stop trying to convince the class, Sadie continued her assault, both physically and socially. She was playing the long game with turning the class against Lila. It was so gradual it was hardly noticeable.

  ----------------

Eventually, when Lila still hadn’t gotten the message, Sadie pulled out the big guns. First, she started fulfilling the promises that Lila had made. She started introducing the class to celebrities in the field they each wanted to go into. She introduced Alya to people at the New York Times, Nathaniel to the editors at Marvel, and even helped Kitty Section get a meeting with some big-time music producer in LA. Then she started wondering aloud to the class why Lila hadn’t already done all this for them. When the grumblings in the class continued to grow, Sadie went for the killing blow. She accused Lila of attacking her. “Lila was so mad. She wanted to be the one to introduce you to all these people. She told me that if I keep doing this then she will make my life hell!” Sadie even threw in some realistic fake tears, not fake sobs like how Lila used to do. Now the whole class had turned against Lila.

  ----------------

Lila’s life had become miserable. She was the class outcast, the only time someone talked to her was to make rude comments or tell her off about ‘how she is treating Sadie’. Thankfully, her lies hadn’t been exposed yet, somehow. She was worried though. Sadie kept getting closer to exposing her with each day. In an attempt to stop that from happening, Lila stopped trying to go after Sadie. Sadie stopped going further with her stories about Lila, but she was still making Lila miserable. She kept tripping her and shoving her and now the rest of the class had joined in. Lila’s stuff was routinely destroyed to the point that Lila didn’t even bring anything she didn’t need to class anymore. Right now, Lila was on another ‘trip with her mother’ and skipping school. She had tried switching classes like that loser Marinette had, but her request was denied. All the other classes were full at the moment. She also tried to convince her mom to let her change schools entirely, but her mother didn’t want her to switch schools in the middle of the year. Lila was stuck and had lost all her power. She was no longer the queen of the class, but was treated more like a prisoner. Sadie had won the war.

[g0ldengubler]

i

(*i do not own this gif*)

A/N: (from wattpad): heyyy...how y'all doin? ugh i'm not too happy with the sex scene (even though i'm grateful that a friend of mine helped me with one of the paragraphs) but this is the best i can do right now with the mental state i'm in. pls bare with me with posting, my personal life has gone downhill so fast it's crazy. i wanted to get this up on halloween but it sadly didn't happen. i do apologize. but i hope ur excited for this fic! thank u so much for reading ilyyyyyyy :) (from tumblr): ok last post until tonight! sorry for the spam, i only had this so far so i thought why not throw it all on here now lol. but ok enjoy :)

Category: smut

CW: daddy kink; degradation (from both men to clover); penetration (female receiving); oral (m+f recieving and giving); drunk sex; praise kink; this chapter is not full of smut but you don't have to read the smut if you're uncomfortable

Word Count: 3235

positions | prologue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Clover's POV~

~Two Years Later~

It's been two years since I joined the team, and I've never felt more at home than I did on my first week. Luke, Spencer and I have been named, 'The Golden Trio' thanks to Penelope. We've been stuck like glue ever since I beat them in poker, like the best friends I always wanted but never had. Because of what happen when I was a kid, I always stayed close to my dad and never felt the need to make friends. Sure, I'd have people that I'd see 5 days a week at school, but nothing as close as we were. During our days off, we'd get drunk and have a poker night or a chess night, teaching Luke how to play but he never seemed to understand it, so we'd slowly switch to UNO or Cards Against Humanity.

Today, Halloween of all days, was just another paperwork day. Sure, being out in the field was exciting, saving American citizens like how Emily saved me, but I found relaxation in looking over files and sending my behavioral advice. Everything was calm in the office with everyone doing their work, and some days we'd watch a movie in the conference room or play games when we either got done with our work early or, as Garcia would say, "All serial killers have taken the day off. Maybe even went to therapy."

As I walked back to my desk after turning in the last of my files to Emily, Rossi came out of his office and stood at the railing. "Everyone," he announced, "I think it's safe to say that for the first in several years, we do not have a case on Halloween night!"

Everyone cheered, especially Spencer. Halloween was his favorite holiday, you learned. He was very passionate about its spooky nature by dressing up in a scary mask at work, before having to take it off because of a case. He would pout when he would see Emily, Rossi, or Garcia come out, telling the team that we had a case. This year, however, I noticed a grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear.

"In honor of that, I will be throwing a party at my house and you're all invited. But don't think you could run away from my grandmother's recipe!"

I turned over to Spencer, who's desk was right next to mine, a curious grin growing on my face. "So doc, what are you going to be for Halloween?"

He leaned back in his chair and looked over to me, his left elbow pressed against the armrest. "I was originally going to go as Tom Baker's Doctor Who since I still have the cosplay from when Garcia and I tried going to a convention, but with how my hair looks now, I think I'll go as a mad scientist or, if I want to be more specific, Einstein himself."

"I can see you dressing up as Einstein," I smiled, "Hell, you could even go as Dr.Emmett Brown, himself."

"Who?"

I looked back at him, jaw falling to my desk. "You know, from Back to the Future?"

He still looked confused.

"Don't worry about it, Clover," Luke said as he walked over and sat at the desk in front of me, "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Now I'm curious about this movie." Spencer said, his curious face getting curiouser and curiouser.

"Maybe we can sneak away from the party tonight at some point and watch it." I wink at him and the two began chuckling.

"Those movie's are the closest to nerd I'll ever get." said Luke, which sparked Spencer's interest even more.

"So what are you going to be tonight, Kingsley?"

I looked over at him with a smirk."Oh, Alvez, THAT is a surprise."

~That Night~

"They did the monnnster mash!"

Music was coming from all over the backyard and in the house. Everyone from the BAU was dressed up in their spooky (or sexy...or cutest) best and was dancing the night away with champagne in their hands. I had walked in a little bit late compared to everyone else, which somehow Rossi didn't give me a sassy but funny remark about it. Rossi and Krystall dressed up as Bonnie and Clyde, Tara, along with Jj, Emily, and Garcia, went as nuns, and Matt went as Rickey while his wife, Kristy, was Lucy.

Luke ended up going as Magic Mike, not because he was full of himself, that was way out of line for him, but because the team would joke that he could become a stripper if he had to and played along. Spencer was, indeed, Albert Einstein. Garcia must've helped him with his hair, getting it to stick out like Einstein's and spraying gray hairspray in his hair. Both looked really good in their costumes, I couldn't complain.

I walked in as a sexy devil. I'm not scared to dress sexy when I could. I was comfortable in my body and I wasn't doing it to get someone's attention. I just love to feel myself from time to time, almost like a confidence boost if I needed it. I walked over to my two dudes and saw their eyes bulging out of their heads as they turned around to see. I was in a tight red crop top that showed off the girlies, with red short shorts, black fishnet tights, and red heels. I had horns on the top of my head thanks to a headband, and a tail that was attached to my shorts. The two were completely shocked, but were the respectful men that I always knew they were.

As the night went on, I was kind of getting bored. While I loved being surrounded by my coworkers turned family, I wanted to get wasted. It was Halloween night for crying out loud, but I didn't like being drunk in front of a lot of people. Even when I would go to the club, I would just have one drink and then dance with everyone on the dance floor. I didn't trust my drunk self, not physically but just how my personality changes. It embarrassed me to no end, so I only trusted a few people. Two of them, obviously, being Spencer and Luke.

At one point, I was sitting on the couch in the living room by myself. Luke and Spencer came in and sat down next to me, asking me if I was ok. When I explained to them what I was feeling, they both grinned in unison as they looked at one another, then back at me. I knew exactly what they were thinking, and they were in for it. We said goodbye to everyone, grabbed our coats, and headed out the door where we all met up at Luke's place.

When we walked in, Spencer and I sat on his couch getting Back to the Future ready while Luke made us all drinks. As we watched, we ended up leaving our glasses on the table and started taking turns drinking the vodka bottle, numb to the burning sensation. After taking the last shot in the bottle, I set it down and lay back against the back of the couch and blacked out, letting the alcohol take over my mind and body. The last thing I remember was leaning my head against Spencer's shoulder, while my feet were on Luke's lap...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clover was giggling on Spencer's shoulder as her foot slowly rubbed over Luke's lap. Luke shifted his position on the couch, trying not to notice what that was doing to him. Not like he had a foot fetish or anything, but the amount of friction caused his pants grow tighter by the minute. Spencer, who had never been this drunk before in his life, started playing with her hair as he moved his arm around her. Spencer could tell that she was just as drunk as he was, but he didn't expect her to lay her hand on his chest, playing with the necklace he had around his neck. He tried to focus his attention to Back to the Future III, but once she started playing with the gold piece of metal with her mouth, he couldn't help but to look down at her, her eyes never leaving his.

He looked over to Luke, who had moved Clover's foot over and started palming himself  through his pants. Spencer quickly looked away, trying not to give in to his own urges. He moved his focus back to Clover, who's eyes were still locked on him. Before he could do anything, she let go of the necklace and began to slowly move her hand down Spencer's chest.

"I know why Luke moved my foot away," she whispered as her hand gently fell on his lap. She moved her fingers ever so lightly over the bulge that was growing in his pants. She had also moved her foot back onto to Luke's bulge, rubbing over it softly.

The two looked at each other, almost in confusion at first. But then, they silently agreed that they were up for it, as Clover clearly was as well. Luke moved her foot off of it and stood up, pausing the movie as Spencer moved her hand out of the way and lifted her head up as he started to get up. He takes her hand and helps her up, grabbing Luke's hand before wobbling their way into his room. She jumped onto the bed as Spencer shut the door, letting the light from the moon and street lamps illuminate the room. The two stood in front of her before she motioned her finger for them to come over.

"You're one hell of a brat, Kingsley." Luke slurred as the two quickly walked over to her, plopping down on either side of her on the bed.

Clover leans in and kisses Luke while Spencer went for her neck, cupping her left breast and massaging it. The touch alone had a moan leave her lips and into Luke's as he moved his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance. As their tongues melded together, Spencer moved the fabric of her top over and took her breast out of the cup of her bra, leaning in and began licking her nipple before taking the whole thing in his mouth sucking it. Clover broke the kiss and let out a whimper, which made both men chuckle as she leaned both of her arms behind her on the bed for support.

Luke looks over to Spencer as he lets go of her breast and looks up to Luke. "Do you think she'll stop being a brat if we do something like this?" Luke asks before moving his fingers down to her core, rubbing over her shorts. Clover bites her lip to hold in a gasp, which Luke wasn't too pleased by.

"Are you going to behave, little one?" Spencer asks as he plays with the waistband of her shorts, his lips ghosting her cheek.

Clover nods, still holding in a moan just from being touched.  Luke grabs ahold of her jaw and quickly turns her face to look at him. "Use your words, princesa."

"Please," she whines.

Spencer has Clover buck her hips as he pulled her shorts and tights off of her. They notice how turned on she was on her panties and both lean in, biting and sucking on either side of her neck. Spencer's fingers linger the inside of her thighs while Luke went back to rubbing her through the cloth. She moves her hips against his fingers, begging for more.

"You were such a tease just a few minutes ago, and now look at you. So helpless and needy in a matter of seconds." says Spencer in between kisses.

Hearing that made Clover take her panties off in a swift, but quick, motion. She couldn't take it anymore, she needed their touch.

"Eager little girl, aren't you?" Luke chuckled.

It took a minute for her to realize that Spencer went straight in, sticking two fingers inside her and pumping slowly while Luke rubbed her pussy. Her brain had turned into mush full of pleasure that when they went in, she couldn't help but let out a loud moan. They sped up their movements, making her let out a silent scream.

"Fuck, daddy!" She gasped out.

The two were shocked, but didn't complain about the name. "Which one of us is daddy, kitten?" Spencer asked.

"You can't think straight, can you?" Luke asked.

Clover pulls Spencer in by his tie while pulling Luke in at the same time by his belt. "Shut up," she says breathy, "just shut up and fuck me."

"Don't go back to being a brat now," says Luke finally after a moment of silence, "You are going to behave or you'll be punished. And I don't think you'll like what we'll do."

Spencer continues to finger her quickly and deeply, curling his fingers as he hit her gspot every time while Luke rubs faster on her clit. Clover falls onto the bed as wave of pleasure hit her like a train.  She closed her walls around Spencers fingers, getting closer and closer to release as he sped up his pace even more.

"Cum for me, little girl, I want you cum so hard on daddy's fingers."

Spencer connects his lips back to her neck as she screamed, letting the waves of pleasure shoot through her body. Luke rubs her slowly to let her ride out her orgasm as Spencer pulls his fingers out and sticks them in his mouth. The way he cleaned her off made her ache all over again, wanting more and more. She didn't want this to end; This was the most pleasure she's ever had.

Luke looks over as Spencer finished devouring her, removing his fingers from his mouth with a small pop. "She tastes so sweet."

Without a single word, Luke gets off the bed and kneels in front of it, pulling Clover by her knees closer to him. As Spencer started making out with her, Luke dives right in between her thighs, licking a single thick stripe up her core, making her moan through the kiss. As their tongues fought like swords in their mouths, Spencer starts to unbuckle his belt and pulled his pants with his boxers in a swift motion, letting his cock spring free. Before it could hit his stomach, however, she grabs onto it with her left hand and starting pumping him slowly. He groans into her mouth before breaking apart, watching her stroke his aching cock.

"Please, daddy. I need your cock so bad fUCK!"

Neither of the two knew who she was talking to, but they did know that it didn't matter. Luke gets up from the floor and takes his costume off while Spencer moved his position so that his knees were on the bed. Clover moves up a bit so that Luke could get back on. The two pump themselves a few times before they pushed themselves in. She took Spencer's cock in her mouth as Spencer grabs a handful of her hair, slowly pushing her down as Luke thrust. As soon as she was comfortable of their size, Luke began thrusting slowly. Clover moaned and grind against him, begging for more, which he happily obliged. Spencer groaned under his breath when she moaned, making him buck his hips forward, shoving his cock down her throat. She gagged on it, tears piercing her eyes.

Clover was at this moment, and maybe even every moment after this, beneath them. Spencer and Luke were exercising their rights to dominate, belittle, and humiliate her. Her holes were filled as her mind quickly unraveled from the rush of pleasure from every minute pulsation. She couldn't even follow their taunts anymore, and the only bit of rationale that she could muster was to be the best sex doll for her two dominators. Her pussy ached for more punishment as they admonished her sloppy performance. She moaned hungrily as she was ravaged, playing the broken slut; no, she was their broken slut. Eagerly enjoying their obvious amusement.

The knot in her stomach was getting tighter and tighter again. She knew Luke was just edging her, making her wait to cum until he was ready. He looked to Spencer, who was holding on for dear life, almost getting into some sort of sub space of his own as the look on his face was begging for release. Clover felt both of their cocks twitch inside her, letting her know they were close.

"Cum for us, princesa," Luke growls, "just one more time for daddy. I know you want to, baby."

Clover turned into a screaming, moaning mess as she came all over Luke's cock, making a huge mess on the bed. That was the last straw for the two men, as they both released inside her, filling her over the edge. The two pulled themselves out, Spencer laying next to Clover (who was showing him that she swallowed every last drop of him) while Luke watched his cum pool out from her, enjoying the view before he lay on the other side of her. Clover wiggled her arms through theirs, focusing on something to cuddle her way into. Spencer quickly grabbed tissues from his side of the bed and cleaned her up.

"You did so good, Clover." says Spencer. He throws the used tissues away in the waste bin beside him and turns back to see tears prickling from her eyes again. "Ssh ssh, it's ok," he coos as he wraps his arms around her. Spencer's soft praises mixed with Luke's gentle hand playing with her hair helped her come back down from the cloudy headspace she was in. She felt cared for and safe with them comforting her.

Clover snuggles into Spencer as Luke's arm wrapped around her waist, spooning behind her. Spencer kissed the top of her head as she nestled her head on his chest, letting the sleepiness that alcohol gave take over them.

As she drifted off to sleep, Clover hoped that she wouldn't forget this perfect night.

[mimzy-writing-online]

Hi! I just wanted to say thank you for writing the 'How to Write a Blind or Visually Impared Person'. I myself am not Blind or Visually Impared and i am in the process of writing the basis for such a character and your guide really helps. (And will help as well as be shared to those I know whom also need to see this.) I do have one question though: What about writing people blind from birth?

So, with writing characters who are blind from birth, it’s important to remember that there are both real people who have been completely blind from birth and people who have been legally blind or VI from birth. So, with blindness from birth, it doesn’t necessarily have to be no sight at all. It’s also important to note how small a minority that is in the blind community. 

Statistics

2.4% of Americans are living with visual disabilities. (Total (all ages): 7,675,600)

0.8% of school age Americans (ages 4-20) are living with a visual disability. ( Total: 706,400). This accounts for 9.2% of the entire blind community in the country.

90% of the entire blind community world wide has some remaining vision. People who are completely blind are a small minority.

Source: National Federation of the Blind

Molly Burke and her boyfriend Adrian (this post was written in 10/20/2020) are both people who have been legally blind from birth or a very young age (I can’t remember exactly when Adrian said he went blind, but it’s been his entire memorable life, though he still has remaining vision).

Most children are not diagnosed right away at birth. It heavily depends on the eye condition in question. Unless you had an easily observable symptom, such as nystagmus or pupils which don’t react to light or lazy eye, doctors and parents are unlikely to notice right away.

Most blind children don’t realize they’re blind until they’re a bit older and have developed enough communication skills to recognize that the visual experiences their family describes don’t match their visual experiences. Slowly small moments and situations begin to pop up where you realize there’s something everyone else seems able to do easily that you’re struggling with.

Particularly severe vision issues will be noticed by parents sooner than more subtle ones. The more usable sight a child has and the fewer visually observable symptoms they have, the longer they’re going to fly under the radar until the adults in their life realize something is different. Even then, it might not be until the child is able to communicate an inability to see what they’re describing that parents might realize something is wrong.

More severe vision issues will be picked up sooner. Parents realizing their children doesn’t respond to peek-a-boo or their eyes don’t follow moving items but sound will get their attention.

At this point in life, the economic situation of the child’s family will have a huge impact on how they grow up.

Families living below the poverty line or living in countries (America) where health care is expensive and treated as a privilege rather than a necessity and human right, or simply isn’t available at all, will have a much harder time getting their child diagnosed or treated.

Those families likely won’t have the education or knowledge needed to realize what is wrong and how they can help their child. Like health care, knowledge/education is treated like a privilege instead of a necessity and human right.

The education their children have access to will likely be lacking as well. Poorer communities have less funding for their students than wealthy communities. Those schools will have an even more restricted budget for accessible education, meaning they might not be able to pay the wages of a teacher’s aide to work one-on-one with that child in class, or have access to magnifiers and braille books/typewriters/education. Even though by legal law they must provide accommodations for disabled students, it doesn’t mean they will, and a financially disadvantaged family won’t have the resources to fight the school for their child’s rights (or even be aware of their child’s rights in the first place).

Children from middle class or wealthy families will (like all children in their community) have a huge advantage over their peers who attend schools with fewer resources. However, those blind children still have a disadvantage with their own peers.

Again, a school might refuse accommodations because administration can be jerks like that. It happens all the time. Parents may have to fight for their child’s rights to equal education through an aide, accessible school materials, and blind-friendly education.

Molly Burke made a video recently talking about her experiences with education as a blind child.

Learning Braille is a huge step in helping blind children, but it’s becoming less popular as audiobooks become more available. Audiobooks are amazing, and that method of reading is just as valid as any other, however a child reading solely with audiobooks will lose the literacy benefits. Like any writing system, Braille teaches spelling and grammatical rules necessary for educational and professional writing. While Braille is a writing system unique to itself, it still lives within the confines of whatever the native speaking language of the child is. Braille in English still uses the same spelling and grammatical function English uses. Braille in Spanish still bends to the rules of Spanish.

This is very different from different sign languages which can have grammar and syntax rules that completely differ from the native language of that country. Which is why you have languages called American Sign Language and British Sign Language and Canadian Sign Language that are using in English speaking countries but function very differently from both English and their fellow Sign counterparts. I’ve heard it said that ASL is more similar to the grammar structure of Chinese than it is to English, which gives the Deaf community a literacy disadvantage of their own when their native language and their reading/writing language are completely different languages.

Though there is a secondary system of Braille which uses shortened abbreviations. That is Grade 2 Braille, and it is learned after Grade 1.

This is Molly Burke’s video on Braille, which includes the history of Braille, how she personally learned it in school, and showing what a Braille Typewriter is and how it is used. 

I highly recommend it because Braille is something I only know from research and theory, not from personal experience.

Children who don’t learn Braille are statistically less likely to receive higher education and more likely to live below the poverty line.

Though blind adults are at a huge disadvantage in the work force with 80% of blind adults being unemployed but not by choice. Even though they have the same qualifications as other applicants, employers will almost always choose a sighted applicant over them, even if the sighted applicant is less qualified.

As adults, people who were born blind are just as affected by their upbringing, education, and family life as sighted adults are. The first eighteen years of their life shaped who they are as a person, so like any other character, you must consider what your character’s childhood must have been like for them to become the person they are now.

Once they reach adulthood, there isn’t much difference between people who were born blind or became blind early in life, compared to people who went blind as adults. But there are a few:

- Adults who were blind or became blind during their education are more likely to learn Braille than adults who went blind later in life.

-They are more likely to have O&M training. Though, only 10% of the blind community has a cane or guide dog, while the rest rely on remaining vision and sighted guides.

-O&M abilities (beyond mobility guides, there’s also learning how to use your remaining vision, your hearing and touch, and other senses to navigate without a cane/guide dog) are generally much better the longer you’ve been blind.

-Adults who have been living with blindness all their lives are more likely to be comfortable with their disability than newly blind adults, but that is not necessarily a rule. There is more confidence in living x-many years blind and knowing how to live your regular life without new major adjustments. 

-The fewer memories a person has of vision, the fewer visual things they are likely to miss. You can’t miss something you’ve never experienced or don’t remember. Doesn’t mean someone won’t wish they knew what stars and fireworks and the ocean looks like, but it won’t be as big a focus as it is for someone who went blind recently.

-People dream with whatever experiences they are living with now, meaning blind people dream with whatever their current vision is. Someone who has never seen or no longer retains any memories of sight will not have dreams with visuals.

(Note, memories of sight are something that fades with time, no matter when you went blind in life. After about 7 years of not seeing a particular image, you’re likely to have forgotten what that thing actually looked like, including color and other general vision things)

That is what I have for you. I’m going to link this to my masterpost so that it’s easily accessible for everyone and if you want to come back to it, you will be able to easily find it.

[swimyghost]

Uniforms

This is a Lupin III High School AU that no one asked for but me and some friends made anyway. This AU will include OCs they haven’t made an appearance just yet. Also this high school is a blend of American and Japanese high schools since I’m, unfortunately, more familiar with an American setting. I hope you enjoy.

---

The ICPO Academy’s name was a joke. Not to say the academy itself was a disgrace to the name of education seeing as the school produced several graduates that went on to become lawyers or doctors or more artistic jobs such as famous actors or architects. ICPO Academy was well known for its reputation as the hub for international learning and cultural acceptance, having the school built in Japan but accepting students from everywhere. Many would question why someone would call the academy’s name a joke with high test scores, amazingly well-funded athletic and arts programs, and a spotless background all being well-known facts.

ICPO: International Criminal Police Organization. The name was outdated and, as mentioned before, a joke, especially to the students who attended the school. The once militaristic educational institution was originally assembled by the Japanese government as a way to train the most elite future members of the police force; the international part only added later once other countries noticed how well the Alta maters excelled in their field. Time, however, was an ever-flowing river and soon more programs such as the arts were added to the school. The need for highly trained police officers was in little demand and the school’s talents for training the best were need elsewhere. The name never changed due to stubborn tradition, also due to the idea of the students needing to “remember their roots”.

Horrible naming aside, the school was strict with everything, from grades to clubs to sports, including school uniforms. That was how three students ended up in the principal’s office one early morning.

“Arsène Lupin, Daisuke Jigen, and Goemon Ishikawa,” the principal, a heavily balding middle-aged man, sighed. He looked like he hadn’t received any proper sleep in weeks. “You three realize the school year only started a month ago and yet you consistently end up here.”

“Sir, I think you are missing the point!” a tall dark-haired man shouted. He stepped forward, shoving aside the three students. The red armband on his left arm was labeled “Head Hall Monitor”. “These three have broken one of the school’s rules, one which is mentioned on the first page of the school handbook so they clearly know what they are doing!”

One of the students, a sophomore with a cocky grin and an even cockier look in his dark brown eyes, laughed. “Pops, you should know I never read any of those dumb manuals!”

“It’s paramount that you read the handbook! And quit referring to me by that ridiculous nickname!”

“Whatever you say, Pops.”

“Mr. Lupin, Mr. Zenigata, I order you to stop this nonsense!” the principal shouted over the arguing pair. “Mr. Lupin, despite you lacking in understanding the school’s policies, you are a sophomore, you should already know that wearing the school’s uniform is a requirement, that goes for you too Mr. Goemon, and especially you Mr. Daisuke, you’re a junior, for Pete’s sake!”

“Jigen.” a gruff-sounding teen muttered. Shaggy black hair covered the teen’s eyes. Unlike the well-dressed (although still against the rules) Lupin, Jigen chose to wear baggy clothes such as a worn hoodie and ripped jeans instead of his uniform. 

“Fine, Jigen,” the man said with an exasperated sigh. “Look, I’m going to cut to the chase since you already know what’s going to happen. I’m going to have the front desk call your parents so they can drop off your uniforms. Mr. Lupin, Mr. Jigen, you’ll be sent to detention for today and tomorrow and will have to use half of your lunch period cleaning the school along with the regular cleaning hours. Mr. Ishikawa, you will have the same punishment except you won’t have detention.”

“What!?” Zenigata cried.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Zenigata?”

“Sir, forgive me for my insolence, but I think this is highly unfair,” Zenigata turned his gaze to the last of the trio, a blue hakama-wearing boy with long but slightly uneven cut hair. “Goemon here is equally as guilty as the rest of them! Therefore, he deserves the same punishment!”

The principal let out a long groan. “I wish I could, Mr. Zenigata. Unfortunately, Mr. Ishikawa is a part of our Judo Team and we’re about to have a match against Cagliostro Academy so-”

“So it’s favoritism!” Zenigata bellowed, slamming his hands on the principal’s desk.

“It’s not favoritism, it’s about securing our school’s reputation! Besides, Mr. Ishikawa isn’t a criminal for refusing to wear the proper garb.” the principal nonchalantly waved his hand.

“We will become one if you don’t punish him accordingly!”

“Do not insult the Ishikawa name like you, you bumbling gorilla.” Goemon spat, keeping a cold expression on his face.

“What did you say!?”

“ENOUGH!”

The room went deathly quiet. The principal, who was suddenly standing tall with an enraged expression on his face. He glared at the four students with a newfound fire in his dark eyes. 

“Mr. Zenigata, this is not up for discussion. If you have a problem, take it up with someone else!”

Zenigata looked like he was going to blow up due to how red his face was. Lupin was frightened, but he kept a small grin on his face. The other two were suddenly extremely interested in the wall.

“Now, all of you, out of my office. I have important work to do.”

Zenigata took several deep breaths before replying. “Alright, sir. I shall take these troublemakers to the front desk to make sure they don’t try to run away.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mr-”

It was too late as Zenigata swiftly herded the group outside of the office, slamming the door behind him. 

The trio shuffled down the hall with only Zenigata walking with a powerful stride. The halls were silent with only the muffled chatter of teacher’s going over their lessons breaking that silence. Posters advertising out of school and in school were taped on walls or pinned to one of the many corkboards that lined the walls. Freshly cleaned windows allowed light to enter in. Jigen grunted as a line of sunlight pierced through his thick locks and entered his eyes. Lupin leaned over Zenigata’s shoulder and smiled.

“The head really chewed you out, huh?”

“Quiet, you scum!” Zenigata snarled, glaring back at the shorter man.

“Wooooooow, is that how all upperclassmen speak to their juniors? I thought we were starting to become friends.”

Zenigata scoffed. “You are not one of my equals, neither as a student or a member of society.”

“Really?” Lupin said with fake surprise dripping from his words.

The senior stopped, leading the rest of the group to follow suit. “I know who you are, Lupin, and I know what your family is.”

“You do?” Lupin glanced over at his companions, who kept measured expressions on their faces, then back at the older student. “What is my family, Koichi Zenigata?”

“A bunch of liars and thieves,” Zenigata said with an icy chill.

The stillness held nothing but tension. Jigen and Goemon silently moved to Lupin’s side. One a slight glimmer of Jigen’s eyes could be seen through the curtain known as his hair; meanwhile, Goemon’s eyes were studying the situation, ready to strike if necessary. Zenigata stood tall with his dark blue and white suit barely hiding the muscles bulging through the cloth. Time ticked away until Lupin broke out into laughter.

“Never knew you hated me that much, Pops!” Lupin patted his shoulder, causing Zenigata to flinch. “C’mon, let’s not fight. Especially since it won’t be a fair fight since your little buddy isn’t here and your reputation would be hurt more than mine.”

“Little… Buddy?” Zenigata looked confused, both due to Lupin’s actions and at the nickname he gave to this unknown person.

“What was his name… Goro! Goro Yatagarasu! That poor boy follows you are like a puppy.” Lupin said.

“Do not insult him like that! Yata is a good student and a better person than you’ll ever be.”

“You’re starting to sound like his boyfriend, Pops,” Jigen spoke up, enunciating the word ‘Pops’.

“Wha- Yata is a freshman and a minor!” 

“That hasn’t stopped seniors before,” Jigen muttered.

Goemon stepped between them with his hands raised. “You wanna get in more trouble?”

Jigen grunted and turned his head away. Zenigata just glared at the trio before starting back on his quest to the front desk. Lupin just pretended to wipe the dust off his crisp white dress shirt and followed the upperclassman with his friends following close behind.

The rest of the walk was uneventful since Lupin stopped trying to press his senior’s buttons. Jigen was more interested in his old sneakers than a conversation with Goemon adopting a similar attitude. Once they reached the open front lobby, Zenigata turned his gaze to the lady who sat behind the circular front desk. Her hair was tied up in a lazy bun with her glasses hanging close to the end of her nose. She looked as interested in her computer work as the principal had looked. She lifted her gaze when Zenigata cleared his throat.

“Can I help you?” her tone was low and bored.

“Yes, these three have broken school rules by deciding to not wear their uniform! I assume the principal has alerted you about the situation?”

“He has.” the receptionist said.

“Then I believe you need to-”

“I’ve already contacted their parents, Mr. Zenigata.” the lady cut off Zenigata with a pointed stare.

“Um, uh, yes,” Zenigata cleared his throat, more awkwardly this time. “W-Well I assume you have the situation handled then?”

“I do.”

“Great! I need to return to class! Please make sure they don’t try anything suspicious.”

“I will, Mr. Zenigata.”

Zenigata bowed before turning to look back at the trio. Lupin stuck out his tongue with a goofy smile plastered on his face. The senior frowned deeply then took off towards an adjacent hallway. The group looked at the front desk lady who already went back to typing away at her computer.

“Wait by the benches over there.” she pointed at the set of benches that were poised by the front doors made entirely of glass. 

“Thank you, ma’am!” Lupin replied in a cheery tone with a wink. The woman just made a noncommittal hum of acknowledgment. Lupin, Jigen, and Goemon all sauntered over to the benches and sat with Lupin in the middle and Jigen and Goemon sitting at the far left and right respectfully. Goemon closed his eyes and lowered his head in mediation with Jigen scratched at his kangaroo pocket. Lupin noticed his not-so-subtle scratching.

“You need to smoke already?” the sophomore whispered.

“Nah,” Jigen replied in a matching soft voice. “Just need to know they’re there. Get anxious if they’re not.”

“That’s a sign of addiction, my scruffy friend.”

Jigen scowled. “Like you’re any better.”

“I can handle being away from cigarettes for a few days, you cannot,” Lupin pointed out. “I’ve even seen you smoke bent ones!”

“A smoke is a smoke.” the junior shrugged.

“Both of you have bad habits.” Goemon chipped in at the same time side-eyeing the pair.

“Like you’re any better. You even said that cigarette you had felt nice!” Lupin countered.

Goemon looked down. He enjoyed the feeling that one cigarette gave him but he’d never admit it, especially since it would most likely lead to his athletic career being cut short. 

Lupin turned his attention back to the older of the three. “Is your mom or dad gonna drop off your outfit.”

“Doubt it,” Jigen snorted. “Ma started taking double shifts to make up for all the new books I had to buy.”

The leader of the group stared at Jigen for a few moments before pulling out his cellphone. He tapped away before raising the phone to his ear.

“Hey, dad? Yeah, it’s me, did you leave already? No? Good!” Lupin said. “Listen, along with my uniform, can you get the bigger one that’s in the drawer next to all my other ones? Thank you!”

“No using any electronic distractions during class periods.” the front desk lady said, still not looking up from her computer. 

“Got it, ma’am!” Lupin replied, saying a quick goodbye to his father before preceding to smile at Jigen. Jigen knew something was up.

“What did you do?”

“Called my old man, of course,” Lupin said.

“No duh, but I know what your family… Does. I need to know if you didn’t just secretly hire a hit or something.” 

“Do you really think that lowly of me, Jigen?” Lupin pretended to look hurt.

“I think you can do some nasty shit if you felt like it,”

“He’s got you there, Lupin,” Goemon added.

“You both are so cruel!” Lupin dramatically placed a hand on his chest. “All I did was ask my father to bring a junior uniform and you’re accusing me of murder!”

“Junior uniform, why would you-” realization hit Jigen. “You bought one… For me?”

“You’re my best friend, you wheezy chimney,” Lupin let out his signature grin. “Someone’s gotta pick you up when you’re down.”

Jigen stared deeply at Lupin before making a tsk sound and whipping his head towards the window. Lupin just chuckled and leaned backward.

Suddenly, the bell rang throughout the school. Students immediately started to flood both the hallway and the front of the school. Couples were walking with their arms linked while others congregated in large groups, laughing about the latest episodes of their favorite shows or lamenting failing a test. Lupin watched them walk by as if he were looking for-

“Hey, Fujicakes!”

Jigen and Goemon both groaned as a long-haired brunette with highlights sashayed over towards them. She wore the standard dark blue, gray, and white uniform but it was clearly altered in some minor but still noticeable ways. The shirt was smaller than it needed to be and the skirt was shorter. Black tights completed the outfit. The freshman carried books and a binder in one hand and a phone with a fake diamond keychain in the other. She stopped only a foot away from the trio before glancing up and down.

“Was dressing like clowns really necessary?”

Jigen and Goemon’s preexisting frown deepened but Lupin gave her a hurt puppy-dog look. “That hurt Fujiko. The real clown outfits are those gaudy uniforms they make us wear. Not you, though. You look fantastic in anything you wear.”

Fujiko giggled, causing Jigen and Goemon to roll their eyes. Fujiko stopped with a sigh. “In any case, I’m guessing you three are in detention.”

“I actually got-”

“And I’m hoping you’ll be there with me,” Lupin said, interrupting Goemon.

“Are you kidding me?” Fujiko said with a snort. “I have cheer practice. I don’t have time to waste with someone like you.”

“Fujicakes,” Lupin said with false hurt.

“I gotta go, Lupin, maybe I’ll see you later when you’re done making a fool of yourself.”

Fujiko walked away with a purposeful stride, leaving Lupin wanting more of her and the other two wanting less. As the crowd began to grow smaller, Jigen glared at his friend.

“How can you stand that girl?”

“Perhaps Fujiko is right about one thing,” Goemon looked down at the still swooning Lupin, “you are a fool.”

“She may be made of ice, but like all ice, it can be melted.” Lupin poetically answered.

“Oh, please,” Jigen grumbled.

Just as all the people left for their class, two men entered the building. One was a wealthy-looking businessman with well-kept hair and a faint beard. He wore a freshly ironed suit that almost gleamed as much as his well-polished shoes. The other was an equally well-dressed man but this time in more traditional Japanese garbs and sandals. His hair was much longer and had a clean-shaven face. Goemon stood up and made his way to the more traditionally dressed man, bowing once he reached him.

“Father.”

“Goemon,” he replied, thrusting the pile of neatly folded clothes he had been carrying into his son’s arms. “Do not repeat this act.”

“I won’t, Father.”

While that exchange went down, the first man eagerly went over and hugged Lupin. He held a smile that was eerily similar to the boy’s. 

“Arsène! You causing micheaf again?”

“Of course, dad, why else would be here?” his son wheezed, trying to escape his bear hug.

He laughed and clasped Lupin on the back. “Aw, I don’t know, maybe you missed me that much you had the principal call me down.”

“Dad!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Lupin’s dad chuckled. He looked at the front desk lady, who was watching the whole scene and shrugged. “Kids these days, am I right?”

The lady blinked slowly. “You need to give them their uniforms, sir.”

“Right, right, right,” the man reached into his suit and handed two bags to Lupin and Jigen. “I believe these are for you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Thanks, Mr. Lupin.”

“Now, I need to leave. Business never gives you a break, I swear.” Lupin’s dad winked at the receptionist before following Goemon’s dad out of the building. Lupin let out a long sigh once he left the building.

“Your dad is certainly a character, Lupin,” Goemon commented.

“Not a word, Goemon,”

“You three go change in the bathroom. I write you a pass to your next class.” the woman at the front desk called over to them. 

Lupin gave the group a smirk. “There’s still a full day ahead of us, gentlemen. Let’s not waste it.”

[skzloona]

White Entitlement and Doctor Who: AKA Why I Like The Timeless Child

TW: Discussion of real life racially motivated medical abuse, general racism. This may hurt sensitive white feelings.

At the end of series 12 of the British sci-fi show Doctor Who, Jodie Whittaker's Doctor discovers that she has a secret past she was unaware of. Erased from her mind by her own people, the Gallifreyans. In a series of flashbacks we see a young Doctor. She's a little Black girl, standing alone below a portal that presumably leads to whatever Universe she called home. She's lost and alone. We don't know if she was abandoned by her family or simply separated from them by an unfortunate accident. She's then found by Tecteun, an adult white woman who was one of the earliest inhabitants of Gallifrey, the very planet the Doctor believed to be their own. She adopts the child Doctor and becomes a sort of mother to her. This seems, at first, like the act of a selfless person. She's taking in a child she doesn't know, who would most likely die without her. A happy ending.

But that's not where the story ends. As the Doctor plays outside with another child on Gallifrey she falls from a cliff. Instead of this being fatal she regenerates, just as the Doctor and other Timelords have been known to do throughout the history of the show. Her body is remade into a young Asian boy. Tecteun sees this and her first thought is to solve this mystery. We see The Doctor, now a little boy, sitting in a chair in a lab as his mother does tests on him. We're shown a montage of various regenerations of the Doctor, many of them children of color. It wasn't until after the episode ended that I thought back and wondered "how did this child end up in so many lethal situations while Tecteun remains alive and well?" which suggests that this might not be a series of accidents but purposeful results of the experiments being done on the Doctor by their own mother figure. What seemed to be a miracle before has turned into a nightmare that evoked in me the memories of similar events in real world history. 

Henrietta Lacks was an African American woman who, in the 1950s, was being treated for her cervical cancer. Some of the cells of her tumor were biopsied by Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. These cells went on to create the HeLa cell line, the oldest and most impactful immortalized cell line in history. Without getting into too much medical jargon, the effect this had on the medical field was immeasurable. The problem? Lacks never gave her consent to have these cells taken, nor was she even informed that it happened. She was also never compensated for it despite the cells being used shortly after to craft the Polio Vaccine. Henrietta died in 1951, never knowing about these cells or what they did for world medicine. Her family wasn't even made aware until 25 years later. Henrietta's story is not unique. Countless black and brown people in history and in the present have been subject to experiments by medical science. Most of them without consent and without compensation. 

In 1932 the United States Public Health Service conducted a medical study called the Tuskegee Study. They told 600 African American men in poverty that they would be receiving free health care from the federal government. 399 of these men had latent syphilis. They were told this study would last 6 months. In reality it was 40 years. These men believed they would be cared for by medical professionals. Instead they were left uniformed of the disease they had (they were merely told they had "bad blood"). None of them were treated with penicillin, despite it becoming the common treatment for syphilis by 1947. By the time the study ended in 1972, 128 men had died of syphilis or related complications, 40 of their wives had been infected with the illness, and 19 babies were born with congenital syphilis. 

These stories were at the front of my mind during the course of this episode. After finally unlocking the secret to the Doctor's regeneration, Tecteun uses it as the foundation for all of Gallifreyan society, giving them all the power to regenerate. The ability to evade death. This power is what leads to Gallifrey being the most powerful and formidable race in the Universe. And what becomes of the Doctor? Their memory is erased. The Doctor's very DNA is used to build a dominant society, without their consent, without their knowledge, and without gaining anything in return. The Doctor becomes who we know them as; an outcast and a misfit. Someone who doesn't fit in with everyone else they know and doesn't know why. Everything about this story connected with me. It connected with my family, with my ancestors, and with the knowledge I have of what other people of color have gone through.

It wasn't surprising to me that some others wouldn't enjoy this plot change. After all, a large subset of the fan base already dropped the show simply because Jodie Whittaker, a white woman, was cast as the 13th Doctor. They thought it was too "PC" and "pandering" even then. I had already decided to pay those people no mind. What was surprising was that many of my supposedly "woke" friends also hated this finale. I saw countless tumblr posts, tweets, and messages declaring that the Doctor was officially "not relatable" anymore. They felt personally hurt that the Doctor was no longer what they saw as a normal person. They called it a "chosen one" story or even a "Mary Sue" (a character with so many things that are special about them that real people can no longer relate their experience to them). This entire concept was frustrating to me. Here I was, feeling connected to this character as a person of color for the first time in its entire 50 year run and other people were treating this as universally and inherently bad. They were calling the Doctor's history of abuse and memory loss,  things that happen to children in real life, "special". Many were saying it should be left ambiguous, that it should never have been stated that these mostly nonwhite people were actually their beloved character. Effectively saying that people should be able to decide whether or not the Doctor has ever been black. 

In no way am I saying everyone must enjoy or love this plot twist. Afterall, it's a big change. But to me, it screams White Entitlement to throw a blanket over the whole thing and say nobody could have enjoyed it. Nobody could find this new plot relatable simply because they couldn't. What they fail to realize is that not everybody will relate to every story and sometimes that's the whole point. This story was clearly created to be something more people of color could relate to than white viewers. To put them front and center for the first time in a show that is half a century long. It's okay if you don't personally connect to one major plot line of a character after all those years of them being made precisely for you. It feels reminiscent of the one spoiled, rich kid who's birthday you went to as a child who cried because instead of getting all 30 cookies in the box, they had to give one to each of the 10 other kids and had a mere 20 left to call their own. I assure you you'll have more Who stories to relate to next time around. It was just our turn, after waiting for so long without one. Perhaps it's time to share your cookies with the other kids who never got to taste them before. You don't have to love the idea of sharing them, but it might not be very kind to complain loudly about how much you wish you had gotten them all. Like the Doctor said, remember to always be kind. 

[rairii]

dumbassrights replied to your post “After the election fraud that happened in Bolivia was uncovered and...”

hey! are you bolivian? can you explain bolivians situation right now? everything i see is outsiders opinions and i know that i can't really trust that. if you can't, thats fine, thank you!

Hello! Yes I am Bolivian, though I currently live in a different South American country, but I’ve been keeping in touch with my family with WhatsApp and I try to keep up with the basic news from back home, so I think I can explain the basics.

The basic start is with Evo Morales, a cocalero (coca leaf grower) who became a politician and came to power as president in 2006. He’s the first indigenous president of Bolivia (he is Aymara), and when he came to power was widely seen as a game changer, destroying the oligarchical, upper white class hold on Bolivian politics. He was received with much fanfare, including from white leftists, who were keen on a president who would enact social reform and change and concentrate on helping reduce poverty and racism. I was too young to vote back then, but the majority of my family voted for Evo. He was... he was hope. It’s hard to explain. We thought it was the turning point. Finally, an indigenous president, someone who knew discrimination first hand and would be able to listen to the many indigenous peoples of our country. Someone who would fight imperialism, and the scars of colonialism.

He managed to do some good things. If I remember correctly, education spending and welfare spending increased, he increased the taxes on many companies, such as hydrocarbons, allowing the state to invest more and have less of a deficit. Bolivia also received an economic boom unrelated to his actions and policies (it had more to do with the price of minerals, since Bolivia is a mining country, and so on and so forth), so for a while poverty did reduce and the middle class grew. He also increased the number of indigenous and campesino (farmer/rural lands) representatives and their influence in politics.

However, as time went on, Evo’s party began to systematically remove any opposition they could, with many political leaders jailed for charges of tax evasion and the like. There is a lot of shady stuff going around that topic, and it’s too much to get into in a short explanation. It turned out that the party sought to remove any rising leadership, even within their party, that could threaten Evo’s dominance. His party also began to stack the legislative branch and pushing new judges through, setting up people who’d be grateful to him and thus legislate in his favor. While this was happening, MAS, the party’s social base, expanded their power and influence in other ways.

Now, the actual constitutional fuckery that angered a lot of leftists. He had the constitution rewritten in 2008 and it was approved in 2009, which had really mixed opinions from people, though I personally liked that he changed the name of “Republic of Bolivia” to “Plurinational State of Bolivia” to recognize the indigenous nations of Bolivia. The constitution maintained its two term limit for the presidency, but the thing was, he claimed that since there was a new constitution, his first mandate/government no longer counted, and he got it approved legally that he could run two more times again, which he did. Which like. What the fuck?

In the process, we began seeing cracks in his pro-indigenous, pro-environmental discourse. For example, he ignored and overulled the indigenous peoples of TIPNIS, a national park and indigenous territory, when they legally stated that they did not want a highway built through their lands, because it would bring in deforestation and cocaleros who are known for deforestation. He basically steamrollered over this, despite indigenous peoples of the TIPNIS walking all the way to the city of La Paz to make protests. He began to approve infrastructure projects that would destroy natural spaces, including hydroelectric dams that can and will flood Madidi, one of the most important national parks and biodeverse areas of Bolivia. And so on and so forth, he began to act in such a way that was at odds with the platform he ran, betraying indigenous peoples and Pachamama (mother earth) at every turn. He also never took any reasonable criticism in stride, blaming it all on American Imperialism.

However, because of MAS’ stronghold and no unity among the opposition, Evo ran two more terms after his first (including the third which really shouldn’t have been legally recognized), and he stated that after his third he wouldn’t stay in power.

If you guessed that he changed his mind or was lying, you’re right.

He called for a national referendum in 2016 for whether he should be allowed to run for a fourth term, but he lost the referendum, which voted “No”, though it was a narrow margin. And instead of respecting the will of the Bolivian people, he ignored it and pushed himself forward as a candidate for the next (these) elections, to the point that he pushed so that the Supreme Tribunal of Justice would rule that the constitution was inconstitutional (wtf) because it did not respect his right to reelection (wtf) and decided that no public office would have a term limit. I hope I don’t have to explain why that is just. A horrible decision for democracy. Term limits exist for a reason. It’s so no one person can get a stranglehold on power. After this it became clear to us that he had become enamoured with power, and was mainly seeking to establish himself in power indefinitely, which well, it pissed a lot of us off. It was heartbreaking too. To see someone we’d pinned our hopes on becoming... a dictator.

This finally brings us to three weeks ago, when the general elections were held. Now, in Bolivia, we have it so that any winner of the presidential elections has to have at least 10% points more than the guy in second place, or we go into a second round of elections between the higher scoring candidates. And as the official electoral authority reported throughout most of the counting process as results came in, Evo didn’t have the 10% lead needed to avoid a second round, and statistically even if the remaining votes were majority Evo, he wouldn’t be able to get the 10% needed. Also, the remaining votes were City votes, and the cities are in general, not Evo supporters anymore. Until at around 80% of all votes counted, the website and reporting of the electoral authority just. Stopped. It cut off. It cut off for 24 hours, during which the government first claimed that oh, it’d had some technical difficulties, and then (this part I actually don’t understand, so I’m paraphrasing what I maybe undersood) claimed that because some voting places had finished counting already, so they wouldn’t have two places reporting results, they stopped the main authority. Which like.

That’s really fucking fishy.

So people were really suspicious, and when the authority began reporting again those 24 hours later, reporting that oh, actually, Evo had won with the required 10%, a lot of people didn’t believe it. This smelled like electoral fraud. So people began gathering to protest because Evo shouldn’t have been running in the first place and now he wanted us to take this lie and swallow it.

Evidence came out over the next few days about electoral fraud: non-Evo vote ballots were found in trash bins, and the official databases of the electoral authority were found to have “irregularities” that all favoured Evo. People got pissed even as Evo claimed that it was imperialist forces and that the counts were all valid and legit and transparent. But the damage was done. Bolivians took to the streets in big numbers to protest and froze the cities, stopping transport and literally putting the cities in a standstill, only letting emergency services and food trucks coming to the supermarkets through so people could live. The protesters in the cities began to get threats, because Evo began trying to sell these protests as “the racist cities trying to stamp the rural vote”, from Evo supporters, that they’d shut the water supplies to the city off. Counter protesters began massing too. Clashes happened. Evo supporters were pushed out of the city of Cochabamba, but they set fire to the grasses around a city landmark and place of pride because they wanted to give a last fuck you. MAS supporters attacked hospitals that had protesters and even the doctors and nurses who weren’t supporting MAS. Photo and video evidence, and people coming forward, showed that the government was paying people to counter protest. The protesters were mostly non-violent, but there were clashes when the police wasn’t able to keep people separated. One mayor near Cochabamba was found to have paid two thugs to beat up protesters, to the point that one young man of 18ish was thought to be dead, and her hair was cut off and she was sprayed red - supposedly by protesters, but now there are cliams of people from her town that it was her own people that did it to make the protesters look bad. (My opinion? It could be either at this point, I don’t know). The protesters wore the Bolivian flag and called for democracy to be respected. The Evo supporters primarily wore the party flag, and got their hands on dynamite that they set off on streets to intimidate protesters. Protesters have died at the hands of Evo supporters - I haven’t heard of one case of dead Evo supporters. The police started to get unhappy, because they didn’t want to throw tear gas at the people protesting. To try and sweeten them, the goverment paid a bonus... but it turned out the bonus money was taken from the police officer’s pension. Police departments began to ... not sure if mutiny is the right word, but to defy the government, in several cities.

At first, people were pushing for a second round of elections, but when we realized that actually, legally, when there is fraud of a significant impact the elections have to be annuled and new ones held, and the people who did the fraud jailed, the movements began to call for new elections completely, with a new electoral authority that could be trusted.

In the meantime, the military was quiet and not sent out to repress anything even after the police began to rebel, with military subordinates presenting letters that they would not repress the people, while it was known that military high command is pro Evo.

While this was going on, the OEA, The Organization of American States, had issued from the start of the 24 hour blackout from the electoral authority that they had concerns about the election process. Evo ended up accepting an audit from OEA representatives, and said that he’d stand by their resolution. When they finally came out with a report saying there were serious irregularities in the election that cast it into doubt, he called it politically motivated, but did call for new elections...

Then the high commander of the military said Evo should resign so that the country can be peaceful again. And a few hours ago Evo presented his resignation to the presidency.

It’s not over by a long shot - we need to establish a transparent, trustworthy electoral process in record time and hold new elections, and people are afraid that Evo will take back his resignation, and Evo incited his supporters in his resignation speech - but we’ve managed to get this far after three weeks of non spot protests.

There’s a lot more going on, a lot of context I’ve skipped, on Evo, on the political opposition - including Camacho, a religious right wing religionalism whose gotten a worrying amount of support with the protests in reaction to Evo’s excesses - but so far, I am proud of Bolivia. We’ve not let a wanna-be dictator establish himself. Now we just need a good left wing leader to help build us up to the promise that Evo gave us, and to stand strong against right wing pendulum reactionaries.

I leave you with the protest chants that spread in Bolivia these past three weeks

Quien se cansa? Who gets tired? NADIES SE CANSA! NOBODY GETS TIRED! Quien se rinde? Who gives up? NADIES SE RINDE! NOBODY GIVES UP! Evo de nuevo? Evo again? HUEVO CARAJO! [Pun involving the word egg, which sounds like Evo, and a swear word that doesn’t have a translation]

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I really enjoyed your book review of Sebastian Junger’s Homecoming. Perhaps enjoyment isn’t the right word because it brought home some hard truths. Your book review really helped me understand my older brother better when I think back on how he came home from the war in Afghanistan after serving with the Paras and had medals pinned up the yin yang. It was hard on everyone in the family, especially for him and his wife and young kids. He has found it hard going. Thanks for sharing your own thoughts as a combat veteran from that  war. Even if you’re a toff you don’t come across as a typical Oxbridge poncey Rupert! As you’re a classicist and historian how did ancient soldiers deal with PTSD? Did the Greeks and Roman soldiers even suffer from it like our fighting boys and girls do? Is PTSD just a modern thing?

Part 1 of 2 (see following post)

Because this is subject very close to my heart as a combat veteran I thought very long and hard about the issues you raised. I decided to answer this question in two posts.

This is Part 1 and Part 2 is the next post.

My apologies for the length but this is subject that deserves full careful consideration.

Thank you for your lovely words and I especially find its heart warming if they touched you. I appreciate you for sharing something of the experience your ex-Para brother went through in coming home from war. I have every respect for the Parachute regiment as one of the world’s premier fighting force.

Working alongside them on missions out in Afghanistan I could see their reputation as the ‘brain shit’ of the British Army was well deserved. They’re most uncouth, sweary, and smelliest group of yobbos I’ve ever had the awful misfortune to meet. I’m kidding. The mutual respect and the ribbing went hand in hand. I doff my smurf hat to the cherry berries as ‘propah soldiers’ as they liked to say especially when they cast a glance over at the other elite regiments like HCav and the guards regiments.

Don’t worry I’ve been called a lot worse! But I am grateful you don’t lump me with the other ‘poncey’ officers. Not sure what a female Rupert is called. The fact that I was never accused of being one by any of those I served with is perhaps something I take some measure of pride. There are not as many real toff officers these days compared to the past but there are a fair few Ruperts who are clueless in leading men under their charge. I knew one or two and frankly I’m embarrassed for them and the men under their charge.

I don’t know when the term PTSD was first used in any official way. My older sister who is a doctor - specialising in neurology and all round brain box and is currently working on the front lines in the NHS wards fighting Covid alongside all our amazing NHS nurses and doctors -  took time out one evening to have a discussion with me about these issues. I also talked to one or two other friends in the psychiatric field too. In consensus they agree it was around 1980 when the term PTSD came into usage. Specifically it was the third edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-lll) published by the American Psychiatric Association in 1980 partly because as a result of the ongoing treatment of veterans from the Vietnam War. In the modern mind, PTSD is more associated with the legacy of the Vietnam War disaster.

The importance of whether PTSD affected the ancient Greeks and Romans lies in the larger historical question of to what extent we can apply modern experience to unlock or interpret the past. In the period since PTSD was officially recognised, scholars and psychologists have noted its symptoms in descriptions of the veterans of past conflicts. It has become increasingly common in books and novels as well as articles to assume the direct relevance of present-day psychology to the reactions of those who experienced violent events in the historical past. In popular culture, especially television and film dramas, claims for the historical pedigree of PTSD are now often provided as background to the modern story, without attribution. Indeed we just take it as a given that soldier-warriors in the past suffered the same and in the same way as their modern day counterparts. We are used to the West to map the classical world upon the present but whether we can so easily map the modern world back upon the Greeks and Romans is a doubtful proposition when it comes to discussing PTSD.

Simply put, there is no definitive evidence for the existence of PTSD in the ancient world existed, and relies instead upon the assumption that either the Greeks or Romans, because they were exposed to combat so often, must have suffered psychological trauma.

There are two schools of thought regarding the possibility of PTSD featuring in the Greco-Roman world (and indeed the wider ancient world stretching back into pre-history, myth and legend) – universalism and relativism. Put simply, the universalists argue that we all carry the same ‘wetware’ in our heads, since the human brain probably hasn’t developed in evolutionary terms in the eye blink that is the two thousand years or so since the Greco-Roman Classical era. If we’re subject to PTSD now, they posit, then the Greeks and the Romans must have been equally vulnerable. The relativists, on the other hand, argue that the circumstances under which the individual has received their life conditioning – the experiences which programme the highly individual software running that identical ‘wetware’, if you will – is of critical importance to an individual’s capacity to absorb the undoubted horrors of any battlefield, ancient or modern.

Whichever school one falls down on the side of is that what seems to happen in any serious discussion of the issue of PTSD in the ancient world is to either infer it indirectly from culture (primarily, literature and poetry) or infer it from a comparative historical understanding of ancient warfare. Because the direct evidence is so scant we can only ever infer or deduce but can never be certain. So we can read into it whenever we wish.

In Greek antiquity we have of course The Illiad and the Odyssey as one of the most cited examples when we look at the character traits of both Achilles and Odysseus. From Greek tragedy those who think PTSD can be inferred often point to Sophocles’s Ajax and Euripide’s Heracles. Or they look to Aeschylus and The Oresteia. I personally think this is an over stretch. Greek writers do; the return from war was a revisited theme in tragedy and is the subject of the Odyssey and the Cyclic Nostoi.

The Greeks didn’t leave us much to ponder further. But, with rare exceptions, the works from Graeco-Roman antiquity do not discuss the mental state of those who had fought. There is silence about the interior world of the fighting man at war’s end. So we are led to ponder the question why the silence?

This silence also echoes into the Roman period of literature and history too. Indeed when we turn to the Roman world, descriptions of veterans are rare in the writings that survive from the Roman world and occur most often in fiction.

In the first poem of Ovid’s Heroides, the poet writes about a returned soldier tracing a map upon a table (Ov. Her. 1.31–5):

...upon the tabletop that has been set someone shows the fierce battles, and paints all Troy with a slender line of pure wine:
‘Here the Simois flowed; this is the Sigeian territory,
here stood the lofty palace of old Priam, there the tent of Achilles...’

This scene provides an intimate glimpse of what it must have been like when a veteran returned home and told stories of his campaigns: the memories of battle brought to the meal, the crimson trail of the wine offering a rough outline of the places and battlefields he had experienced. The military characters in poems and plays show a world in which soldiers are ubiquitous, if somewhat annoying to the civilians. Plautus, for instance, in his Miles Gloriosus, portrays an officer boasting about his made-up conquests – the model for the braggart in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum – and Juvenal complains about a centurion who stomps on his sandalled foot in the bustling Roman street.

Despite this silence, compelling works have been written that interweave vivid modern accounts of combat and its aftermath with quotes from ancient prose and poetry. At their best, these comparisons can illuminate both worlds, but at other times the concerns of the present-day author are imposed on the ancient material. But the question remains are such approaches truthful and valid in understanding PTSD in the ancient world?

So if arts and literature don’t really tell us much what about comparative examples drawn from military history itself?

Here again we are in left disappointed.

According to the Greek historian, Herodotus, in 480 B.C., at the Battle of Thermopylae, where King Leonidas and 300 Spartans took on Xerxes I and 100,000-150,000 Persian troops, two of the Spartan soldiers, Aristodemos and another named Eurytos, reported that they were suffering from an “acute inflammation of the eyes,”...Labeled tresantes, meaning “trembler,”. It is that Aristodemos later hung himself in shame. Another Spartan commander was forced to dismiss several of his troops in the Battle of Thermopylae Pass in 480 B.C, “They had no heart for the fight and were unwilling to take their share of the danger.”

Herodotus again in writing about the battle of Marathon in 490 B.C., cites an Athenian warrior who went permanently blind when the soldier standing next to him was killed, although the blinded soldier “was wounded in no part of his body.” Interestingly enough, blindness, deafness, and paralysis, among other conditions, are common forms of “conversion reactions” experienced and well-documented among soldiers today

Outside the fictional world, Roman military history tell us very little.

Appian of Alexandria (c. 95? – c. AD 165) described a legion veteran called Cestius Macedonicus who, when his town was under threat of capture by (the Emperor-to-be) Octavian, set fire to his house and burned himself within it.  Plutarch’s Life of Marius speaks of Caius Marius’ behaviour who, when he found himself under severe stress towards the end of his life, suffering from night terrors, harassing dreams, excessive drinking and flashbacks to previous battles. These examples are just a few instances which seem to demonstrate that PTSD, or culturally similar phenomena, may be as old as warfare itself. But it’s worth stressing it is not definitive, just conjecture.

Of course of accounts of wars and battles were copiously written but not the hard bloody experience of the soldier. Indeed the Roman military man is described almost exclusively as a commander or in battle. Men such as Caesar who experienced war and wrote about it do not to tell us about homecoming.

It seems one of main challenges when we try to see military history through the lens of our definition of PTSD is to first understand the comparative nature of military history and what it is we are comparing ie mistaking apples for oranges.

The origin of military history was tied to the idea that if one understood ancient battle, one might fight and, more importantly, one might lead and strategise more effectively. In essence, much of the training of officers – even in the military handbooks of the Greeks and Romans – was an attempt to keep new commanders from making the same mistakes as the commanders of old. Military history is intended to be a pragmatic enterprise; in pursuit of this pragmatic goal, it has long been the norm to use comparative materials to understand the nature of ancient battle.

The 19th Century French military theorist Ardant du Picq argued for the continuity of human behaviour and assumed that the reactions of men under the threat of lethal force would be identical over the centuries: “Man does not enter battle to fight, but for victory. He does everything that he can to avoid the first and obtain the second....Now, man has a horror of death. In the bravest, a great sense of duty, which they alone are capable of understanding and living up to, is paramount. But the mass always cowers at sight of the phantom, death. Discipline is for the purpose of dominating that horror by a still greater horror, that of punishment or disgrace. But there always comes an instant when natural horror gets an upper hand over discipline, and the fighter flees”

These words offer insight to those of us who have never faced the terror of battle but at the same time assume the universality of how combat is experienced, despite changes in psychological expectations and weaponry, to name but two variables.

Another incentive for scholars and researchers is to turn to comparative material has been the growing awareness of the artificiality of how we describe war. A mere phrase such as ‘flank attack’ does not capture the bloody, grinding human struggle. Roman authors – especially those who had not fought – often wrote generic descriptions of battle. Literary battle can distort and simplify even as it tells, but if the main things are right – who won, who lost, and who the good guys are – the important ‘facts’ are covered. Even if one intends to speak the truth about battle, the assumptions and the normative language used to describe violence will affect the telling. We may note that the battle accounts in poetry become increasingly grisly during the course of the Roman Empire (perhaps owing to the growing popularity of gladiatorial games),while, in Caesar’s Gallic War, the Latin word cruor (blood) never appears and sanguis (another Latin word for blood) only appears in quoted appeals (Caes. B. Gall. 7.20, in the mouth of Vercingetorix, and 7.50, where the centurion M. Petronius urges his men to retreat). The realities of the battlefield are described in anodyne shorthand. In much the same way that the news rarely prints or televises graphic images, Caesar does not use gore, and perhaps for the same reason – to give a sense of reportorial objectivity.

Another element in the interpretive scrum is a given author’s goal in writing an account in the first place: Caesar, for example, was writing about himself, and he may have been producing something akin to a political campaign ad. Caesar makes Caesar look great and there is reason to believe that, if he was not precisely cooking the books, he did give them a little rinse to make him look more pristine. Given the many factors that complicate our ability to ‘unpack’ battle narratives, Philip Sabin has argued that the ambiguity and unreliability of the ancient sources must be supplemented by looking at the “form of the overall characteristics of Roman infantry in mortal combat”. Again the modern is used to illuminate that which is obscured by written accounts and the “the enduring psychological strains” are merely unconsciously assumed.

These legitimate uses of comparative materials have led to a sort of creep: because military historians have used observations of how men react to combat stress during battle to indicate continuity of behaviour through time, there appears to be a consequent expectation that men will also react identically after battle. This creep became a lusty stride with modern books written about the ancient world and PTSD.

After I finished my tour in Afghanistan I read many books recommended to me by family and friends as well as comrades. One of these books is well known in military circles - at least amongst the thinking officer class - as an iconic work of marrying the ancient world and the modern experience of war. I read it and I was touched deeply by this brilliant therapeutic book. It was only months later I began to re-think whether it was a true account of PTSD in the ancient world.

This insightful book is called Achilles in Vietnam by Jonathan Shay. Shay is psychiatrist in Boston, USA. He began reading The Iliad with Vietnam veterans whom he was treating. Achilles in Vietnam, is a deeply humane work and is very much concerned with promoting policies that he hoped would help diminish the frequency of post-traumatic stress. His goal was not to explain ancient poetry but to use it therapeutically by linking his patients’ pain to that of the Iliad’s great hero. His book offers a conduit between the reader and the experiences of the men that Shay counsels. In the introduction to this work he makes a nod to Homerists while also asserting the primacy of his own reading:

“I shall present the Iliad as the tragedy of Achilles. I will not glorify Vietnam combat veterans by linking them to a prestigious ‘classic’ nor attempt to justify study of the Iliad by making it sexy, exciting, modern or ‘relevant’. I respect the work of classical scholars and could not have done my work without them. Homer’s poem does not mean whatever I want it to mean. However, having honored the boundaries of meaning that scholars have pointed out, I can confidently tell you that my reading of the Iliad as an account of men in war is not a ‘meditation’ that is only tenuously rooted in the text. “

After outlining the major plot points around which he will organise his argument, he notes, “ ‘This is the story of Achilles in the Iliad, not some metaphorical translation of it”.

The trouble was and continues to be is that many in the historical and medical fields began to rush to unfounded conclusions that Shay, on the issue of PTSD in the ancient world, had demonstrated that the psychological realities of western warfare were universal and enduring. More books on similar comparative themes soon emerged and began to enshrine the truth that PTSD was indeed prevalent throughout the ancient world and one could draw comparative lessons from it.

Perhaps one of the most influential books after Shay was by Lawrence Tritle. Tritle, a veteran himself, wrote From Melos to My Lai. It’s a fascinating book to read and there are parts that certainly resonate with my own experiences and those of others I have known. In the book Tritle drew a direct parallel between the experiences of the ancient Greeks and those of modern veterans. For instance, Xenophon, in his military autobiography, presents a brief eulogy for one of his fallen commanders, Clearchus. Xenophon writes that Clearchus was ‘polemikos kai philopolemos eschatos’ (Xen. An. 2.6) – ‘warlike and a lover of war to the highest degree’.

Tritle comments:

“The question that arises is why men like Clearchus and his counterparts in Vietnam and the Western Front became so entranced with violence. The answer is to be found in the natural ‘high’ that violence induces in those exposed to it, and in the PTSD that follows this exposure. Such a modern interpretation in Clearchus’ case might seem forced, but there seems little reason to doubt that Xenophon in fact provides us with the first known historical case of PTSD in the western literary tradition.”

Arguably in the West and especially our current modern Western culture is predicated at baulking at the notion of being ‘war lovers” as immoral. But such an interpretation speaks more of our modern Christianised ambivalence towards war; to the Spartans and Athenians the term would not have had a negative connotation. ‘Philopolemos’ is, in fact, a compliment, and the list of Clearchus’ military exploits functions as a eulogy. There are points where his analysis does not adequately address the divergences between ancient and modern experiences.

For all the talk of our Western culture being rooted in Ancient Greece and Rome we are not shaped by the same ethics. Our modern ethics and our moral code is Christian. There is no such thing as a secular humanist or atheist both owe a debt to Christianity for the way they have come to be; in many respects it’s more accurate to describe such people as Christianised Humanists or Christian Atheists even if they reject the theological tenets of the religious faith because they use Christian morality as the foundation to construct their own. Many forget just how brutal these ancient societies were in every day life to the point there would be little one could find recognisable within our own modern lives.

Now we come to third point I wish to make in determining where the Greeks or Romans actually experienced PTSD. This is to do with the little understood nature of PTSD itself. As much as we know about PTSD there is still much more we don’t know. Indeed one of the most problematic and complicated issues is the continued disagreement around the diagnosis and specific triggers of the disorder which remain little understood. We have to admit there are competing theories about what causes PTSD but, in terms of experiences that make it manifest, there are essentially three possible triggers: witnessing horrific events and/or being in mortal danger and/or the act of killing – especially close kills where the reality of one’s responsibility cannot be doubted. The last of these was strongly argued in another scholarly book by D. Grossman, On Killing, the Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society (1995).

Roman soldiers had the potential to experience all of these things. The majority of Roman combat was close combat and permitted no doubt as to the killer. The comparatively short length of the gladius encouraged aggressive fighting. Caesar recounts how his men, facing a shield wall carried by the taller Gauls, leaped up on top of the shields, grabbed the upper edges with one hand, and stabbed downwards into the faces of their opponents (Caes. B. Gall. 1.52). As for mortal danger, Stefan Chrissanthos in his informative book, Warfare in the Ancient World: From the Rise of Uruk to the Fall of Rome, 3500BC-476AD, puts it this way: “For Roman soldiers, though the weapons were more primitive, the terrors and risks of combat were just as real. They had to face javelins, stones, spears, arrows, swords, cavalry charges, and maybe worst of all, the threat of being trampled by war elephants.”

Such terrors are regularly attested. During his campaign in North Africa, Caesar, noting his men’s fear, procured a number of elephants to familiarise his troops with how best to kill the beasts (Caes. B. Afr.72). It should also be noted that it was not unusual for the reserve line to be made up of veterans because they were better able to watch the combat without losing their nerve. Held in reserve, they had to watch stoically as their comrades were injured and killed, and contemplate the awful fact that they might suffer the same fate. This was not a role for the faint of heart.

However, while the Romans certainly had the raw ingredients for combat trauma, the danger for a Roman legionary was much more localised. Mortars could not be lobbed into the Green Zone, suicide bombers did not walk into the market, and garbage piled on the street did not hide powerful explosives. The danger for a Roman soldier was largely circumscribed by his moments on the field of battle, and even here, if he was with the victorious side, the casualties were likely to be light: at Gergovia, a disaster by Caesar’s standards, he lost nearly seven hundred men (Caes. B. Gall. 7.51). In his victory over Pompey the Great at Pharsalus, his casualties numbered only two hundred (Caes. B. Civ. 3.99).

So we are left with the disturbing question: were the stressors really the same?

This is the part where I also defer to my eldest sister as a doctor and surgeon specialising in neurology and just so much smarter than myself.

My eldest sister holds the view in talking to her own American medical peers that despite  similar experiences in Afghanistan and Iraq, British soldiers on average report better mental health than US soldiers.

My sister pointed out to research study done by Kings College London way back around 2015 or so that analysed 34 studies produced over a 15-year period (up to 2015) and found that overall there has been no increase in mental health issues among British personnel - with the exception of high rates of alcohol abuse among soldiers. The study was in part inspired the “significant mental health morbidity” among U.S. soldiers and reports that factors such as age and the quality of mental health programs contribute to the difference between the two nation’s servicemen and women.

She pointed out that these same studies showed that post-traumatic stress disorder afflicts roughly 2 to 5% of non-combat U.K. soldiers returning from deployment, while 7% of combat troops report PTSD. According to a General Health Questionnaire, an estimated 16 to 20% of U.K. soldiers have reported symptoms of common mental disorders, similar to the rates of the general U.K. population. In comparison, studies around the same time in 2014 showed U.S. soldiers experience PTSD at rates of 21 to 29%. The U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs estimated PTSD afflicted 11% of veterans returning from Afghanistan and 20% returning from Iraq. Major depression was reported by 14% of major soldiers according to another study commissioned by RAND corporation; roughly 7% of the general U.S. population reports similar symptoms.

It’s always tough comparing rates between countries and is not a reflection of the quality of the fighting soldier. But one finding that consistently and stubbornly refuses to go away is that over the past 20 years reported mental health problems tend to be higher among service personnel and veterans of the USA compared with the UK, Canada, Germany and Denmark.

However my sister strongly cautioned against making hasty judgements. And there could be many variable factors at play. One explanation is that American soldiers are more likely than their British counterparts to be from the reserve forces. Empirical studies showed reservists from both America and British troops were more likely to experience mental illness post-deployment. It was also worth pointing out that American soldiers also tended to be younger - being younger and inexperienced as well as untested on the battlefield, service personnel would naturally run the risk of greater and be more vulnerable to mental illness.

In contrast, the elite forces of the British army, such as your brother’s Parachute Regiment or the Royal Marines, were found to be the least affected by mental illness. It was found that in spite of elite forces experiencing some of the toughest fighting conditions, they tended to enjoy better mental health than non-elite troops. The more elite a unit is or more professional then you find that troops tend to enjoy a very deep bonds of camaraderie. As such the social cohesion of these fighting forces provides a psychological protective buffer. Not for all, but for many.

More intriguing are new avenues of discovery that might go a long way to actually understanding one of the root causes of PTSD. According to my sister, recent research carried out in the US and Europe and published in such prestigious medical journals as the New England Journal of Medicine (US) and the Lancet (UK), seems to establish a causal link between concussive injury and PTSD. 

One recent study looked at US soldiers that concerned itself with the effects of concussive injuries upon troops after their return from active duty during the war in Iraq.

Of the majority of soldiers who suffered no combat injuries of any sort, 9.1 per cent exhibited symptoms consistent with PTSD. This allows a baseline for susceptibility of roughly 10% of the population. A slightly higher number (16.2%)  of those who were injured in some way, but suffered no concussion, also experienced symptoms. As soon as concussive injuries were involved, however, the rates of PTSD climbed dramatically.

Although only 4.9% of the troops suffered concussions that resulted in complete loss of consciousness, 43.9% of these soldiers noted on their questionnaires that they were experiencing a range of PTSD symptoms. Of the 10.3% of the unit who suffered concussion resulting in confusion but retained consciousness, more than a quarter (27.3%) suffered symptoms. This suggests a high correlation between head trauma and the occurrence of subsequent psychological problems. The authors of the study note that ‘concern has been emerging about the possible long term effect of mild traumatic brain injury or concussion...as a result of deployment related head injuries, particularly those resulting from proximity to blast explosions’

Although these results are preliminary, if confirmed they have profound implications for anyone trying to understand the nature of warfare in the ancient world, especially the Western world. 

So why does it matter?

In Roman warfare, wounds were most often inflicted by edged weapons. Romans did of course experience head trauma, but the incidence of concussive injuries would have been limited both by the types of weapons they faced and by the use of helmets. Indeed the efficacy and importance of headgear for example can be deduced from the death of the Epirrote general Pyrrhus from a roof tile during the sack of Argos. It is likely that the Romans designed their helmets with an eye to blunting the force of the blows they most often encountered. Connolly has argued that helmet design in the Republican period suggests a crouching fighting stance (see P. Connolly, ‘The Roman Fighting Technique Deduced from Armour and Weaponry’, Roman Frontier Studies (1989). However my own view is that the change in helmet design may signal instead a shift in the role of troops from performing assaults on towns and fortifications when the empire was expanding (and the blows would more often rain from above) to the defence and guarding of the frontiers.

While the evidence is clear that concussion is not the only risk factor for PTSD, it is so strongly correlated that it suggests that the incidence of PTSD may have risen sharply with the arrival of modern warfare and the technology of gunpowder, shells, and plastic explosives. Indeed, accounts of shell shock from the First World War are common, and it was in the wake of that war that those observing veterans suspected that neurological damage was being caused by exploding shells.

For soldiers of the Second World War and down to our modern day, an artillery barrage is like an invention of hell.

As one American put it in his memoirs of fighting the Japanese at Peleiu and Okinawa, “I developed a passionate hatred for shells. To be killed by a bullet seemed so clean and surgical but shells would not only tear and rip the body, they tortured one’s mind almost beyond the brink of sanity. After each shell I was wrung out, limp and exhausted. During prolonged shelling, I often had to restrain myself and fight back a wild inexorable urge to scream, to sob, and to cry. As Peleliu dragged on, I feared that if I ever lost control of myself under shell fire my mind would be shattered. To be under heavy shell fire was to me by far the most terrifying of combat experiences. Each time it left me feeling more forlorn and helpless, more fatalistic, and with less confidence that I could escape the dreadful law of averages that inexorably reduced our numbers. Fear is many-faceted and has many subtle nuances, but the terror and desperation endured under heavy shelling are by far the most unbearable” (see E.B. Sledge, With the Old Breed at Peleiu and Okinanwa, 2007).

The psychological effect of shelling seems to result from the combined effect of awaiting injury while at the same time having no power to combat it.

There is another aspect that I alluded to above which is the psychological and societal conditioning of the Roman soldier. In other words a Roman male’s social and cultural expectations of his place in the world. Feelings of helplessness and fatalism were probably a less alien experience for most Romans – even those in the upper classes. In general, the Romans inhabited a world that was significantly more brutal and uncertain than our own.

This another way of saying that the Roman and 21st century combat are very different in a variety of ways that subject the modern soldier to a good deal more stress than the legionary was ever likely to suffer. And the Roman’s societal preparation – his life before the battle – was far more robust than that we enjoy today.

Take infant mortality. In the modern developed world, our infant mortality rates are about ten per thousand. In Rome, it is estimated that this number was three hundred per thousand. Three-tenths of infants would die within the first year, and an additional fifth would not make it to the age of ten - 50% of children would not survive childhood. Anecdotal evidence supports these statistics: Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, gave birth to twelve children between 163 bc and 152 bc; all twelve survived their father’s death in 152 bc, but only three survived to adulthood. Marcus Aurelius and his wife, Faustina, had at least twelve children but only the future emperor Commodus survived. 


Then look at how that child grows up. The typical Roman child would be raised in a society that readily accepted ultra-violent arena entertainment, mob justice, frequent and bloody warfare as a fact of life. This was reinforced by religious and societal encouragement to see war as natural and beneficial, open butchering of food animals, a total lack of support structures for the poor and less able.

Compared to the legionary our modern soldier has been protected from such realities to a greater degree than at any other point in history, and will thus be far less well prepared for the horror of a warfare that contains far more stress factors than for a man who might fight a handful of battles in his military career, with long periods of relative calm in between, state of war notwithstanding. Modern special and elite forces training often emphasises the brutalisation and ‘rebuilding’ of the recruit in readiness for this step into darkness, but it seems likely that no such conditioning would have been needed two thousand years ago.

I would argue that we experience war very differently from the way the Romans did. Our modern identity is defined far more by our Western Christian heritage than our Western Classical roots. They are in fact world apart when it comes to ethics and morality. Consider the fact that when we talk of war and killing today we often do so through conflict between our civilian moral codes – which offer the strict injunction not to do violence to other human beings – and wartime, when men are commanded to violate such prohibitions. It is a terrible thing to try to navigate ‘Thou shalt not kill’ and the necessity of taking a life in combat.

It is sometimes the case that the qualities that make the best soldier do not make the best civilian, a point amply attested in Greek poetry by heroes such as Heracles and Odysseus.

The Romans, for their part, celebrated heroes such as Cincinnatus, who could command effectively and then leave behind the power he wielded to return to his humble plough. It is important, however, when evaluating combat and its effects in the ancient world, that we do not read our ambivalence about violence onto the Romans. They inhabited an empire whose prosperity was quite openly tied to conquest.

As M. Zimmerman writes in his academic article, “Violence in Late Antiquity Reconsidered’ (2007), “The pain of the other, seen on the distorted faces of public and private monuments, or heard in the screams of criminals in the amphitheatre, reassured Romans of their own place in the world. Violence was a pervasive presence in the public space; indeed, it was an important basis for its existence, pertaining as it did not only to victories over external enemies but also to the internal order of the state.”

Violence then was both the means and the expression of Roman power. The Roman soldier was its instrument. The Roman warrior then would have brought a different perspective to lethal violence, and would have had a far more restricted moral circle to his modern counterpart – his friends and family, clan, patron and clients, as opposed to millions of fellow citizens via the internet and social media.

Part II follows next post

[orangeoctopi7]

A Negligible Price

I guess it’s becoming a tradition for me to add another chapter to A Minor Inconvenience every year for @stanuary . I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s just that the prompt “Sacrifice” got me thinking about this story and where I thought it could go, and then I got writing and I started coming up with ideas for how I could actually put a finish to this story. So yeah, hopefully it won’t be another year before I post chapter 4, but not promises!

Also, first time I’ve had to do this, but:

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE/MARTYR COMPLEX AND SUIDICE ADJACENT THEMES.

* * *

Bill rushes to gather himself together again. Now that Sixer and his idiot brother have caught on, he knows they’ll probably be making a move against him soon. The time for lying in wait and keeping a low profile has passed. He’s been getting faster, better at finding the tiny flecks of gold scattered into the dark abyss below. 

Unfortunately that also means that he’s noticed that some missing pieces just never turn up. As an interdimensional being who’s existed in countless dimensions across innumerable timelines, Bill likes to think he knows himself pretty well now. What he’s made of, how much power he’s accumulated, what he’s capable of. And if he had to estimate now, which he does, he’d say he’s been reduced to maybe a third of his power. Roughly two thirds of him are missing. 

What happened to those missing pieces? Were they simply deleted by that memory eraser? Did he leave some of himself behind in that physical form he left to enter Stan’s mind in the Fearamid? Bill can only guess, but really, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. What matters is getting out of this moron’s brain and starting again on his path to a universe free of rules.

* * *

Stan recovered from his latest memory lapse quickly, despite the fact that it was the worst one he’d experienced since he sacrificed himself to the memory gun last summer. The experience had clearly put Ford on edge, and as much as he tried to bottle up his emotions and remain calm, Stan could practically feel the panic coming off him in waves. 

They were both relieved when they reached Spitsbergen. There was a hospital in Longyearbyen, where Ford insisted they stop to give Stan a check-up. Stan felt fine, but if it helped ease Ford’s nerves, then he could sit through a check-up.

Explaining Stan’s condition to the doctor was a struggle, considering English was not his strongest language. They definitely got across that Stan was experiencing memory problems, but the doctor seemed to be under the impression it had been caused by an injury to the head in an accident, rather than a purposeful exposure to a memory-erasing device. 

Eventually, Ford had lost his patience and just asked if they could use the CT or MRI machine themselves. The doctor spoke enough English to tell them that the nearest CT or MRI machine was in either Iceland or Russia.

The elder Pines twins left the hospital in low spirits. Ford kicked at little pebbles as they walked down the street.

“There’s a research facility in Ny-Ålesund. Perhaps we could sail up there and commandeer some equipment to rig up our own CT scan…”

“I think it’d be easier to just hop on a plane back to the States at this point.” Stan suggested.

“If we’re going to hop on a plane somewhere, it’ll be to Reykjavik, where we won’t have to pay an arm and a leg for any treatments.”

“Yeah, we’ll just have to wait half a year.” Stan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think they’re gonna take ‘revived demon in my head’ as an urgent need.”

“Probably not…” Ford admitted.

“And you’re sure you didn’t figure anything else out the last time you were pokin’ around in my head?”

Ford grit his teeth. The truth was, he was afraid what would happen if he tried to revisit that memory. The cold flames of the memory eraser had felt so real, even just revisiting it in Stan’s mind, and they seemed to be the trigger of his latest memory lapse. Would they have a similar effect within Ford’s own memory?

“Nothing I’ve been able to make sense of.”

Stan grit his teeth. “So what now? Just leave that jerk in my head?”

Ford sighed. “I want to do some more research into what we’ve learned so far. Perhaps a trip to the library will help me find some insight. But truthfully… I may have been too hasty with punching out Bill, when I encountered him. He’s a liar who can’t be trusted, but he’s also a braggart. If I’d just let him run his mouth a little longer, we may have learned something about what he’s up to.”

* * *

Longyearbyen’s library wasn’t any bigger than the public library in Gravity Falls, and had significantly fewer books relating to Bill and mind magic, but it did at least have access to several library databases that Ford couldn’t typically log into from the Stan’O’War II. (According to Fiddleford, these databases could be hacked into quite easily, but Ford didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to learn how) It would have to do for now. Ford took a seat at a computer, and with a little help from a librarian, he was soon scrolling through peer-reviewed articles from different archeologists and anthropologists and folklore experts and descendants of the Aztecs and Mayans debating who Xolotl was, what his role was in the Aztec religion, how much his lore changed from Pre- and Post- Colombian invasion, and so forth. 

What he’d learned so far was interesting, to say the least. The things that most people agreed upon was that Xolotl was a god of death, fire, and lightning. What caught Ford’s attention was the fact that they were also the god of twins and deformities. He glanced down at his twelve fingers, which rested awkwardly on the small keyboard meant for people with just ten. It seemed odd that Bill would call on this particular death god, when they seemed far more likely to be a patron to Stan and Ford. 

While Ford puzzled over this new information, Stan browsed the library, looking for something to entertain himself while he waited. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t a whole lot of English books in this Norwegian library. Luckily, it wasn’t long before he stumbled upon an extensive comics section. Even though he still couldn’t read most of them, the pictures were at least enough that he got the gist of what was going on.

 European comics were very different from American comics. They featured a lot less costumed superheroes punching bad guys and a lot more weird, quirky characters setting out on adventures and exploring the world. They also seemed to lean more heavily on comedy rather than drama. Stan decided he liked them.

He’d been looking at a story about some rich duck when he noticed he felt odd. He didn’t know how else to explain it other than to say that his brain felt itchy. The more he concentrated on it, the more it faded away, but when he went back to looking at the comic and got absorbed back into the story, it came back.

After almost an hour of the feeling coming and going, Stan decided he was not imagining the sensation. He stuffed a tissue into the comic as a bookmark and got up to see what Ford would have to say about it. Almost as soon as he laid eyes on his brother, a wave of anger washed over him. Just like the itchy brain feeling, it went away almost as soon as he stopped and thought about it, but it had been so strong, that he couldn’t deny it had happened.

“Hey.” Stan tapped his brother on the shoulder as the old researcher skimmed an article about why the Aztecs associated lightning with twins.

“Hmm?” Ford acknowledged him without looking away from the screen.

“Am I forgettin’ to be mad at you about somethin’?”

That got Ford to turn and look at him. “Are you having a memory lapse!?”

“I don’t think so, but just a second ago I looked over at you and I felt really mad all of a sudden. Can’t really think of a reason why, though. I’m just wondering if maybe the other day, when I had the big blank-out, maybe we missed somethin’?”

The old researcher’s face contorted with guilt. “You have ample reason to be mad at me. I didn’t stand up for you when dad kicked you out. I never reached out to you for over ten years. I expected you to drop everything and help me with my problems without any explanation. I refused to thank you for saving my life--”

“Yeah, no, none of that stuff.” Stan shook his head. “I remember all that stuff, and I’ve already forgiven you and junk. Mmmm… did you try to enchant the mop again and not let me remember it?” But even as he joked that the underlying reason must be the latest chapter in a minor argument, he knew that couldn’t be right. The sudden bloom of anger had been much more deep-seated and horrible than that. It had felt like… it had felt like Ford had ruined everything. 

To be fair, there had been a long period of Stan’s life when he had felt like Ford had ruined everything. But Stan was over that now, and this brief brush with anger had felt even more heated than that.

Ford gave him an appraising look. “Were there any other memories or emotions associated with this feeling?”

“Oh yeah, my brain was feelin’ itchy right before that.”

“Have… you been using shampoo?” Ford asked, unsure of what to do with this information.

“Not my scalp, genius, like the actual thinking part of my brain!”

“... I can’t even begin to guess what that means.”

“Ugh, I don’t know how else to describe it, ok? It’s like somethin’ was squirmin’ around in my mind!”

The brothers wore twin expressions of realization as the words left Stan’s mouth. 

“We need to get back to the boat.” Ford stood from the computer desk abruptly.

“Yep.” Stan set the comic he’d been reading down on the desk, not even bothering to remove his improvised bookmark. 

* * *

Bill throws his hands up and roars in frustration. He can’t seem to take control, even when the moron’s mind is zoning out, losing himself in some stupid comic book. He’s already in the mind! He’s been here for months! He knows his way around here. So why isn’t it working? Is it because he never made a deal with this guy? That shouldn’t matter! The last thing they did before the whole memory gun thing was shake hands! 

There's no time to waste complaining, though. Sixer will be poking around here any minute. Bill needs a plan. Before, he'd spent millions of years in the Nightmare Realm planning. Now he's making everything up as he goes.

It's clear that Bill can't just take control of Stan like he'd been counting on. But do the other two know that? He might still be able to use that to his advantage.

If Bill is going to trick these losers and get out of here, he needs to play his opponents right. Luckily, he's got years of experience fighting against Sixer. It's the Big Mackerel that he worries about. 

Before, Bill hadn't paid much attention to Stan. He thought he understood what made the simple con man tick. But then, in the end, he found he didn't understand at all. Even after months of being trapped in his mindscape, Stan is very much still a mystery to Bill.

But there is one thing about Stan that Bill does understand.

He’s willing to sacrifice himself for his family.

* * *

Once they were back aboard the Stan’O’War II, Stan allowed himself to relax, just a little. At least here his surroundings were familiar, and the only person he had to worry about was his own brother.

Under normal circumstances, “the only person he had to worry about” meant he didn’t have to look over his shoulder for law enforcement or old criminals who might recognize Stan from his drifter days. 

Today “the only person he had to worry about” meant the only person he could possibly endanger if Bill was able to take control of him. Ford was the last person Stan wanted to put in danger, but he also had to admit, his brother knew more about the demon than any other living being on the planet. 

Stan may have been able to relax a tiny fraction once they were back aboard their boat, but not Ford. Ford was in full-blown panic mode.

He frantically searched around the storage room for something, anything, that could help protect his brother from Bill. Unfortunately, they hadn’t thought to bring unicorn hair or moonstones on their voyage. He did have titanium, but he wasn’t confident enough in his emergency medical knowledge to perform cranial surgery on his own, and he doubted they’d be able to find a doctor crooked enough to do it for them. Currently, his best idea was to build an updated version of Project Mentem, but that would take time. Time he wasn’t sure Stan had.

“I can re-enter your mindscape and shatter him again.” Ford decided, pulling out the candles again. “That should at least buy you a few days.”

“Ok.” Stan nodded. He’d definitely prefer to know Bill was shattered again, and not moving around in his brain. “But it’s not like he’s doing anything right now.”

“He’s probably trying to get us to lower our guard.” Ford assumed. “I’ll need to tie you up. He usually makes his move while his victim is asleep.”

“If I need to fall asleep for your spell while tied up, we’re gonna be waitin’ a long time.” Stan warned. “I dunno if I could even fall asleep right now if I had the world’s most comfortable bed.”

“Fair point.” Ford nodded. “I may have to drug you.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” It was abundantly clear that Ford was not kidding in the slightest.

“Would you rather be used as his puppet!?” The old researcher shouted. The outburst rang in the air for a few seconds while Ford tried to steady his breathing. “Stan I… I’m sorry, I just--”

“It’s ok.” Stan pulled him into a hug and tried his best to calm his brother down. “I know you’re just scared.”

“I’m not scared for myself.” Ford explained in a small voice. “I’m scared for you. Waking up to find that you’ve hurt someone, it’s-- I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all you--”

“Stanford, look at me. We’re not gonna let that happen. What if we do it while I’m awake, like we did with the memory before?”

Ford nodded meekly. “That… that could work.”

“You can still tie me up if that makes you feel better.”

The old researcher bit his lip. “...It shouldn't be necessary...”

“Ford.”

“...But it probably would ease some of my fears, yes.” he admitted.

“That’s what I thought. I’ll go get the rope.”

Still unwilling to let his brother out of his sight, Ford followed Stan up to the deck while he retrieved said rope. Once they were back below deck, he wrapped Stan tightly in a large blanket before sitting him down on a chair and tying him up, to ensure he was as comfortable as possible while still restricting his movement.

“How do you feel?” Ford asked as he lit the candles.

“Like I’m about to be shipped back to Oregon in the mail.”

“And Bill…?”

“I haven’t felt anything else from him since we left the library.”

The lack of activity should have reassured Ford, but instead it just added to his general unease. At least he was able to compose himself enough to perform the incantation.

Just as last time, after a flash of light, he found himself on the deck of Stan’s mindscape, with Stan himself standing beside him. This time, though, Bill was floating there, waiting for them.

“I KNEW YOU’D BE BACK HERE AFTER I GOT YOUR ATTENTION IN THE LIBRARY!” The demon taunted. “OH, AND LOOK. STANO HERE EVEN MADE A MENTAL CONSTRUCT OF HIMSELF WITHIN HIS OWN MIND JUST SO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO FACE ME ALONE! HOW CUTE!” He prodded Stan in the stomach like he was the Pillsbury Doughboy.

“Back off, bucko!” Stan threatened. “We’re here to break your whole face!”

“WHAT, YOU COULDN’T WAIT UNTIL TONIGHT TO DO IT IN YOUR DREAMS LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO?” Bill asked, voice dripping with false innocence. 

“We’re not able to risk the chance of you parading about in Stanley’s body.” Ford growled.

“HA! YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN ANYONE, FORDSY, I ONLY DO THAT TO STUBBORN KNOW-IT-ALLS WHO WON’T WORK WITH ME WILLINGLY.”

“If you think I’m gonna work with you willingly, then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.” Stan grunted.

“HEAR ME OUT, MAC! WE BOTH WANT THE SAME THING HERE! ME, OUT OF YOUR SAD PATHETIC MIND!”

“You can’t leave!?” Ford asked in surprise.

“WHAT, YOU THINK I ENJOY SPENDING TIME IN THIS BOZO’S MIND? YOU THINK I WAS PLOTTING MY REVENGE?”

“Honestly, yes.”

Bill gave a long, mocking laugh. “AHAHAHAHAHA! YOU REALLY THINK I CARE ABOUT A COUPLE OF INSIGNIFICANT FLESH SACKS LIKE YOU?”

“We’re the insignificant flesh sacks who killed you!” Stan reminded him.

“WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY. THE BEST REVENGE IS LIVING WELL.”

The brothers exchanged a suspicious glance. They highly doubted Bill actually believed that adage.

“BUT I CAN’T EXACTLY LIVE WELL TRAPPED IN YOUR MINDSCAPE. I MIGHT GET BORED AND DECIDE THE BEST REVENGE IS KILLING YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY WITH YOUR OWN HANDS.”

Ah yes, that was more along the lines of what they expected from Bill.

“So you’re saying you’ll just let bygones be bygones if I cooperate with you?” Stan asked skeptically. 

“WE’LL GO OUR SEPARATE WAYS, NEVER TO MEET AGAIN!”

“And what are you planning on doing once you’re free?” Ford asked coldly.

“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, SIXER.” The demon waved him off. “NOW ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME OUT OF HERE OR NOT? THE SOONER THE BETTER. YOU TWO AREN’T GETTING ANY FURTHER AWAY FROM THE AVERAGE LIFE EXPECTANCY OF A HUMAN MALE, AND FISH FACE HERE DOESN'T EXACTLY TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIS BODY.”

“Hey!” Stan shouted indignantly.

“Why should Stan’s life expectancy factor into this?” Ford asked.

“HMMM? OH, NO REASON.” Bill said evasively. “I’M JUST, Y’KNOW, IN A HURRY.”

“You’re an immortal, extradimensional being. You’ve been trying to find a way out of the nightmare realm since before multicellular life developed on this planet. If you’re so sure we’re close to the end of our lives, why not wait until we’re out of the way? You must realize we’ll try and stop you from starting Weirdmaggedon again!” Ford reasoned.

“WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT STARTING WEIRDMAGGEDON AGAIN?” Bill denied. “AND MAYBE AFTER A BILLION YEARS, I’M TIRED OF WAITING!”

“Unless you aren’t immortal any more.” the old researcher concluded.

“YOU’VE SEEN FOR YOURSELF, FORDSY, EVERY TIME YOU OR YOUR IDIOT BROTHER SHATTER ME, I PULL MYSELF BACK TOGETHER.”

“Immortal in the mind, perhaps. But what happens when the mind you’re occupying finally dies?”

“ALRIGHT, YOU FIGURED IT OUT!” Bill sneered. “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN A GENIUS LIKE YOU WOULD. YEAH, MY LIFE’S TIED TO THE BIG MACKEREL’S NOW. SO WHAT? YOU GONNA KILL YOUR BROTHER JUST TO GET RID OF ME?”

“Of course not!” Ford barked.

“Hey, I’d be more than happy to take you down with me if it meant making sure you never hurt anyone else ever again!” Stan challenged the demon.

Ford stared at his brother with wide eyes. “Stanley, no!”

“Hey, relax, I’m not talkin’ suicide or anything.” Stan assured him. “But he’s right about one thing. I’m not gonna live forever.”

I’ll only do it if I have to. A stray thought cawed overhead.

Stan cussed under his breath as Ford gaped at him with a mix of alarm and pity.

“I’m not gonna take it back.” Stan insisted after a moment. “If that’s what it comes down to, to keep him from hurtin’ you or the kids, then I’m taking him down with me.”

Ford placed his hands firmly on Stan’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye with all the intensity he could muster. “We won’t let that happen!” 

Bill laughed at them cruelly. “RIGHT, CUZ YOU’VE HAD SO MUCH SUCCESS STOPPING ME IN THE PAST.”

“I’ll find some other way!” Ford insisted.

“I’M SURE YOU COULD, WITH TIME.” Bill agreed. “BUT I’M GONNA STRANGLE YOU IN YOUR SLEEP BEFORE THEN!”

Not if I strangle myself first! Another one of Stan’s stray thoughts called.

Ford gave his brother a frustrated shake. “No! Stanley, I swear to you, that won’t be necessary!”

“Alright, that’s it. We’re not havin’ this conversation in my brain, where you can hear all my unprocessed thoughts.” Stan decided.

Suddenly, Ford’s form and everything around them flickered and began to fade to white. Stan and Bill were the only ones who remained solid and whole. Stan was waking up? But he’d never been asleep before the spell in the first place!

“Don’t you try any funny business!” Stan pointed an accusing finger at Bill. “I’m coming back to shatter you into a million smaller pieces as soon as I fall asleep tonight!”

[gstqaobc]

FROM THE MONARCHIST LEAGUE OF CANADA

As this Ecomm went to publication, we received word of the death, at the great age of 96, of Bill Silver, a significant benefactor of the League from its early days, and for many years a pillar of our Ottawa Branch.  We wished to remember him here: his ebullient spirit, fierce loyalty spoken gently, innate modesty and kindness.  Indeed Chaucer might have had forethought of Bill in describing one of his characters as a “very parfitt gentle knight.” May his ardent spirit rest in peace, and his memory be a blessing and example to us all.   LEAGUE ISSUES NEW FLYER: THE CASE FOR THE CROWN The League thought it timely and useful to issue, offer in its advertising and distribute as widely as possible - both via the website and in printed form - a new flyer which will give you, our members, ammunition to argue logically the case for the Crown in conversation with others, and, we hope, to distribute strategically. One never knows when such an item, left on a waiting room table at the doctor or dentist’s office, affixed to a supermarket or other community bulletin board, put through neighbours’ mail slots - the possibilities are many - will do good work for our cause. We hope you will both enjoy and profit from this item, and that many thousands will be distributed across the country. See item one in the WHAT CAN I DO FOR THE CANADIAN CROWN? section of this Ecomm, below, to read online and request printed copies.   And special thanks to our wonderful team of no less than seven translators, all francophones from La Belle Province, who so kindly volunteered to make the French version one that is accurate in expression and eloquent in its prose.                     WHAT CAN I DO FOR THE CANADIAN CROWN? Some suggestions for member activity during these times. We invite members to send additional ideas by return of email. 1.    How about asking the League to send you several print copies of our new flyer:  THE CASE FOR THE CROWN, or print them on your home computer:  https://www.monarchist.ca/index.php/publications and give them to others who may be unaware or sceptical of the importance of Canada’s constitutional monarchy, or even hostile to it. School teachers could be encouraged to read the League’s educational booklets, also available both online and in print at the same URL, or even to request a class set.   2.    When you read an editorial, opinion column or letter to the editor in a newspaper, or a tweet or Facebook post, critical of the Crown, don’t get mad - get even! In other words, use a temperate tone and logical argument to refute the writer’s attack.  Keep it brief: focus on the obvious flaws in reasoning, mis-statements of fact or name-calling substituting for logic.  Same goes for radio talk shows. In the long run, on all media, whatever the provocation, whatever the momentary satisfaction of ”giving them a piece of my mind” - an old adage remains true: “You catch more flies with honey.” 3.    Write your elected representative at the federal level to re-state briefly the reasons you support constitutional monarchy as our system of government,  and asking the MP whether not your view is shared. 4.    Once pandemic restrictions ease, try to make sure that Royal events - such as the upcoming 95th birthday of our Queen, 10th Wedding Anniversary of William and Catherine or 100th birthday of Prince Philip are celebrated both in your home but also among your wider family, your friends, your colleagues at the office,  your place of worship/faith community or service club. The League generally sends you some ideas to mark these celebrations. Remember, as they are incorporated into family life and public life, the     Crown becomes further embedded in the heart of the nation, and truly represents The Queen’s wish that it ”reflects all that is best and most admired in the Canadian ideal.” This is especially true when you go out of your way to include in your observance the newest members of our Canadian family, who generally are eager to participate in the traditions of their new homeland, and in turn to share their own traditions with the wider community. 5.    Always use a Queen stamp when you write a letter or pay a bill by mail. 6.     At events of ceremony, whether a Council meeting, a graduation, a civic celebration - whatever - make sure that the Royal Anthem is sung as well as the National Anthem. To the extent you can, discourage event organizers from having a soloist “perform” them. Far more pride and         learning develop from the untrained voices of loyal folk singing together. In that way, the Anthems are sung “with heart and voice” and not merely listened to.   A FINAL IDEA: AN ACT OF LOVING SUPPORT & THANKS Apart from the above, we think it would be enormously comforting and supportive for every one of us to  write a kind letter to The Queen, expressing your thoughts at a difficult time: her beloved husband ailing, a grand-child chiding other family members via sensational television, the drumbeat of the tabloids and the restrictions on her busy life caused by the pandemic.  A selection of letters, especially those from Commonwealth Realms, are indeed seen by The Queen - and their number and tone are summarized to Her Majesty. The address is - Her Majesty The Queen, Buckingham Palace, London SW1A 1AA, UK Theoretically you don’t need postage to write the Sovereign; in practice, it is safer to affix the international airmail stamp available from your local Canada Post outlet.   AN INTERESTING OPINION PIECE FROM TODAY’S DAILY TELEGRAPHWe thought you might be interested to see the following strongly-worded opinion piece, reflecting a good deal of the tone of recent British public opinion, rather different from much of the Canadian and US commentary. Meghan’s fake interview has real-world effects The Sussexes’ claims have undermined the monarchy and done lasting damage to the Commonwealth by Tim Stanley, March 15, 2021 Two headlines appeared on the BBC News website on the same day. At the top: “Harry and Meghan rattle monarchy’s gilded cage”. At the bottom: “The kidnapped woman who defied Boko Haram”. Well, that puts the Sussexes' problems in perspective, doesn’t it? Yet across Africa, one reads, the Duchess’s story has revived memories of colonial racism, tarnishing the UK’s reputation, and has even lent weight to the campaign in some countries to drop the Queen as head of state. The only nation that seems to think a lot of nonsense was spoken is Britain. In the wake of an interview that Joe Biden’s administration called courageous, British popular opinion of Harry and Meghan fell to an all-time low, and the American format had a lot to do with it. Oprah Winfrey is not our idea of an interviewer. She flattered, fawned and displayed utter credulity. Imagine if it had been her, not Emily Maitlis, who interviewed Prince Andrew over the Jeffrey Epstein allegations. “You were in a Pizza Express that day? Oh my God, you MUST be innocent! Tell me, in all honesty, though...did you have the dough balls?” This wasn’t an interview, it was a commercial for a brand called Sussex, a pair of eco-friendly aristo-dolls that, if you pull the string, tell their truth – which isn’t the truth, because no one can entirely know that, but truth as they perceive it. “Life is about storytelling,” explained Meghan, “about the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we’re told, what we buy into.” Meghan is a postmodernist. Just as Jean Baudrillard said the Gulf War never happened, but was choreographed by the US media, so the Royal narrative she was forced to live was fake, her public happiness was fake and, following that logic, this interview might involve an element of performance, too. People have challenged her claims, alleging contradictions and improbabilities, but one of the malign effects of wokeness is that you have got to be very careful about pointing this out. Why? Because wokery insists on treating a subjective view as objective truth, or even as superior, because it’s based upon “lived experience”. To contradict that personal perspective is perceived as cruel, elitist and, in Meghan’s case, potentially racist, so it’s best to wait a few weeks to a year before applying a fact check. In the meantime, affect sympathy. People would rather you lied to their face than tell them what they don’t want to hear. The result is profoundly dishonest, for I have never known an event over which there is such a gulf between the official reception, as endorsed by the media and politics, and the reaction of average citizens, who are wisely keeping it to themselves. Into that vacuum of silence steps not the voice of reason but bullies and showmen – like Piers Morgan, who said some brash stuff about Meghan’s honesty and, after an unseemly row on Good Morning Britain, felt obliged to resign from his job.  “If you’d like to show your support for me,” he wrote afterwards, “please order a copy of my book.” Dear Lord, was this row fake, too? I can no longer be sure, though I despised Good Morning Britain before and still do: it embodies the cynical confusion of emotion and fact, a show made for clicks, where even the weatherman has an opinion. So what is real in 2021? The Commonwealth, which does a lot of good in a divided world. The monarchy, which has been at its best during the pandemic, doing the boring stuff of cutting ribbons and thanking workers that, one suspects, Meghan never grew into (can you imagine her opening a supermarket in Beccles?). It contains flawed people, but that only adds to its realness, and they can adapt faster than you might think. Prince William got the ball rolling by telling reporters, who he is trained to ignore, that his family is not racist. His wife paid her respects to the murder victim Sarah Everard, demonstrating that she is neither cold nor silenced. I’d wager Kate does her duty, day after day, no complaint, not because she is “trapped”, as Harry uncharitably put it, but because she loves her family and believes in public service. Meghan and Harry have indeed prompted the Royal family to change: not in order to endorse their criticisms, however, but to answer them.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

[boneandfur]

Time After Time 2/2

TWO

Note: the characters demanded smut. There is a link to the NSFW version on ao3 at that point. tumblr won’t let me load the moodboard. I’m very frustrated with this hellsite.

Women aren't doctors at the Front, Miss... what did you say your name was again? Ah, Miss Valentine. American. That explains it... But we do need good quality nurses... You'll be sent to France right away on account of your prior training... Jolly good, just sign the dotted line... 

"I assume you'll have the watered wine, Rookie." Ramsay leans across the table, lightly tugging the menu from Helena's numb fingers. Every little boom makes her shiver, though she's adopted the English habit of keeping a stiff upper lip. Her grandmother has told her stories to curdle your guts, about standing on a hill at Gettysburg and watching her lover ride hell for leather into battle. And I followed him, didn't I, chick? 

"What brought you here? To the Front?" Helena cocks her head at him, and Ramsay's brows raise nearly to his hairline. 

"You're bold as brass.” Ramsay snaps his fingers. “I like that. Knew it as soon as you stepped out of that line of nurses that you wouldn't turn into a shrinking violet at your first amputation." Ramsay turns to their waiter, a Frenchman of elderly years with an ear trumpet. "We'll take your best watered wine for the lady, and a bottle of whiskey." 

Helena coughs lightly, and addresses the waiter in seamless French. "(What is the special today?)" 

The old man looks sad. "(I am afraid we do not have anything special. Just some eel ragout, and fresh bread my wife baked this morning.)" 

"(Then we will take that, and your best bottle of Merlot.)" 

When the owner has gone, Ramsay smiles broadly at Helena, showing white teeth against three days shadow of a beard on his jaw. "By God, you're a marvel. Never learned much French myself, besides what I've had to behind the lines." 

"Oh, my governess despaired of me." Helena shrugs, but cannot help smiling in return. "I can speak enough French to get by, you know, but I could never pass for a natural." 

"Well, you are an American." But it does not sound like an insult.

The eel comes, and she eats ravenously, less like a lady and more like the girl who downed seven glasses of champagne and then raced her brother from Boston to Concord on horseback. 

And Ramsay drinks. Thoughtfully. Mindfully. She does not remember, afterward, nor for many years, what they said, only how she had smiled and smiled until her cheeks hurt, and the ticking of the pocket watch. 

One two, one two. Tick tock. Eleven hours. Ten hours. Nine hours. Eleven minutes and eleven seconds.

No more standing to in trenches,//Only one more church parade. 

"I had a patron who paid for me to go to medical school, a well respected chap named Naveen.” Ramsay nurses his whiskey, rolling the glass with purpose between his palms. “After school, I joined the army to make something of myself, and went to India. My wife deserted me for another man while I was gone. She didn't like the army life, you see." 

Helena reaches out, laying her hand over his. Ramsay startles, but does not move his hand away, and instead flips it over, laying his palm flat against hers and caressing her wrist with his rough fingers. She drags in a breath, the sudden widening of his pupils making her lower abdomen flutter. "I ran away from home. No one knows I'm here, or I'd be dragged back to Boston to marry a Stirling and pop out an heir and a spare before the war has even gotten started." 

"You don't even want to know about what this war will look like if it keeps going, lass." Ramsay drains his glass, and pours them both another. "I'd tell you to go back to Boston, but I can see by that look in your eye that you'll see this thing through. I respect that." 

Helena does not trust herself to speak. The wine is making her thoughts slow, but she does not want this moment to end. 

Ramsay rubs a hand over his jaw. "That was back in '09. I hung my boots up, moved to Scotland, and threw myself into practice in Edinburgh. Then that damn fool shot a Prince, and well, here we are." 

Steady, silent. Their eyes meet and the watch ticks on. Helena feels as though she is drowning. His mouth moves and she only feels the heat of his palm against hers, her cheeks ablaze. 

'Nurse! Nurse Valentine! Are you dumb or are you just deaf?! Hand me those scissors, and bring me another scalpel... These damned orderlies don't know what they're doing...'

Their eyes meet across the bloody operating table. The soldier is mercilessly unconscious, a bloody piece of shrapnel in his thigh. He'd been screaming since he came in off the ambulance, a boy of no more than nineteen, a Tommy named Elijah... 'Mum, Mum, water, water...'

'That's a Blighty, Rookie. Your first. Are you going to faint on me, lass?' Ramsay's eyes lock on Helena's. She feels the flint of his gaze go straight to her spine, and straightens up. 

'No, Doctor. I'll be fine, sir.'

'I told you Americans have brass, Ramsay!' The surgeon, Lahela, winks at Helena in passing, but she does not notice. Her gaze does not falter under Ramsay's. 'Pass me the tweezers.'

His mouth quirks, just a shade. 'Good girl.'

"...Good God, Rookie, will you drink the whole bottle? I promise my company isn't as bad as all that." Helena feels Ramsay tug at her wine glass, and relinquishes it. The lamp has begun to burn low, and from the outside of the cafe is the sound of drunken laughter. "You shouldn't walk out there alone. Come on, I'll walk you back to your billet." 

"I don't have one," Helena confesses. She pats her bag, shamefaced. "I spent my money for the hotel on books... I can sleep on the truck." 

Ramsay shakes his head. "No, no, that won't do. We can't have you more dead on your feet than usual. I have a solution. It's a bit unorthodox. Do you trust me?" 

Eight hours, three minutes, seven seconds. 

•••

Helena does not know why, but the lights from the star shells, all green and gold, make her grip Ramsay's arm tighter, and press against his side. At the corner, he stops and gazes down at her, a strange and wild new thing in his face, something she dares not name. 

Don't forget me, Helena Valentine. When this lousy war is over, I'll come back, you see... 

"Tell me..." Ramsay brushes a curl back from her brow, his broad fingertips sending a crackle across her bare flesh. "Why did you become a doctor, Rookie -- Helena?" 

"I read a wonderful book." Helena ducks her head, and looks up at Ramsay from under her lashes, illuminated by the lamplight. Behind them, to the east, she hears the screech of a Minnie, and his hands tighten on her fingers. "It was written by a Scottish doctor who had served in India, on the Northwest Frontier." Her gaze skitters away. 

People said when we enlisted,//Fame and medals we would win.

"Ah. I knew a chap who served there, in his younger days." Ramsay tucks her cold hand through his elbow. The snow is falling thicker now, and they are nearly to the hotel. A quick word from Ramsay to the proprietor -- she hears the words une chambre pour les jeunes mariés -- He knows French after all -- 

And before she knows it, she is sitting in a delectably steaming hot hip bath, strewn with lavender and rosemary. She washes her hair and cannot remember the last time she felt such luxury. 

Nine months, two days, thirteen minutes...

When this war is over, //No more soldiering for me. 

"You can have the bed. I'll bunk down with Medical Officers Gayle and Nguyen, from the -nth Platoon." Ramsay stands in the doorway, his cap in his hands, avoiding looking directly at Helena in her muslin shift. "We wouldn't want you to lose your reputation and have to leave the war so soon." 

"Stay." She feels her eyelids drooping, and pats the quilt next to her. "Please, stay." 

"You know I can't do that." Yet, she hears the floorboards squeak as Ramsay settles next to her on a chair. The inn rattles like a whizzbang and she grasps Ramsay's hand, clutching at it until the clattering of the teacups subsides. "Only a little longer, then, Rookie. Until you're safe." 

•••

Ethan watches Helena Valentine fall asleep. There is nothing he'd like more than to climb next to her in that big bed, to feel her lithe body against his. But it would be wrong, even though nothing will ever be right again after the war is over. But if he can keep her safe -- If I can keep her alive -- he dares not finish the thought. 

“You wouldn't remember me, Helena Valentine, but I was the guest speaker of honor when they hung the plaque for your grandfather at the Royal Hospital, in Edinburgh.” Ethan whispers the words, barely a murmur. The whiskey has given him courage, here in a small hotel near the Ypres front. 

Ypres, the Race to the Sea. Generals called it a triumph, but the only thing the war has given Ethan thus far has been insomnia for thirty-six hours, a hatred of mustard gas and a pair of fine German boots from over the top. 

“He was an old surgeon, a medical man, who fought in the American Civil War, but he did great things for Scottish medicine, too, back in his youth.” Helena's fingertips tighten on his palm, and Ethan fears he has said too much. But he goes on, like a schoolboy at the confessional, for who can say when they shall ever have this moment again? And hasn't the war taught him by now to leave nothing unsaid? 

“You must have been not more than twenty-one, then. You were still unmarried, with a vast inheritance that folks said you'd squandered on medical school. I knew right then and there that Jonas Valentine would have been proud of you. I wanted to introduce myself right there and then…” 

But I was too tongue tied by your beauty, and couldn't find the words. Later, when I saw you again in Ypres, I couldn't believe my own eyes. I didn't want to tell you how I felt then...

(But that will keep, until this war is over.)

Her grip loosens, and he knows she is sleeping. She sighs in her slumber when his lips brush across her dainty brow, and it is with everything inside of him screaming at him to turn around that he walks away. 

When I get my civvy clothes on,/Oh how happy I shall be.

•••

Forty-five minutes, thirty seconds. 

The books are too heavy. Yet, Helena, an oasis of blue with a red cross on one arm in a sea of green uniforms, settles in with Sherlock Holmes. Rookie... She snaps the book shut, watching the landscape go by from the army van. 

I shouldn't... We shouldn't. Ramsay cups both sides of Helena's face in his hands. The book drops to the floor. They are both damp from the bath, and his skin smells of cedar and lavender soap. 

copy and paste into your tab:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957496/chapters/73743633

Later, she will remember the exact way the quilt felt as he pulled it over her shoulders, tucking her in, embers in the grate and his lips ghosting across her forehead. 

•••

Twenty years on, when a new war is brewing, this is what Helena Valentine remembers: 

The air, so still and warm, with not a single lark singing. The earth smells of flowers and death, and she is sharing sterilizing duty with VAD Nurse Varma, whom she'd come over from London with. 

"I suppose you think you're better than me, being a real doctor and all, but..." Jackie's lips move, but Helena cannot hear what she is saying. All she can hear is a buzzing sound, a ringing in her head. 

One two, one two. 

Her hands tremble with fatigue over the medical instruments. 

Thirteen minutes and forty-seven seconds. 

Tick, tock. 

The table begins to shake and she looks at Jackie, their eyes wide as they clasp hands -- and then they are running -- and the bridge is shaking, it's shaking Dr Ramsay, you shouldn't be out here, it's wartime you know -- 

No one can know about this, about us. You know that, right? 

I know, Dr Ramsay.

He cups her chin in his hand. They say you're a grasping American chit, but you're my American chit now, and I won't hear anything against you. Oh -- and don't check your bag until you're on the truck back to the lines. I left something there for you. 

Then you have this -- keep it until the war is over -- it was my grandfather's and it's over a hundred years old and it's still ticking on. 

His mouth is warm on hers, tip of his tongue pressed against hers for a surprisingly electric surge.  

-- "Nurse Valentine! Valentine!" --

Helena wakes in the morning with the ashes cold in the grate, Ramsay's greatcoat draped over her. It smells of peat and whiskey, and the faintest whiff of mustard gas. Her thighs are wet and she looks under the quilts and realizes her cycle has started, and she does not know why, but she begins to sob, whether from relief or terror she knows not. 

One two, one two.

(Twelve hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty four seconds.)

Tick, tock. 

People said when we enlisted,/Fame and medals we would win,/But the fame is in the guardroom,/And those medals made of tin.