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hangenious0 · 3 years ago

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Meat

TW: MC, blood and gore

Hange doesn't remember when she stopped eating meat. It wasn't a quitting-cold-turkey situation, she had had enough of that shit, but it wasn't so gradual that Moblit didn't notice.

"What? You are a vegan now? Why?"

Because all meat is the same to me now. And I can't stomach it.

Hange doesn't remember when she stopped eating meat. It wasn't a quitting-cold-turkey situation, she had had enough of that shit, but it wasn't so gradual that Moblit didn't notice. Moblit always notices.

"What? You are a vegan now?" he joked when she ordered a veggie burger for the first time.

"Health nut," Hange muttered, skimming through the lost list of salads to finally choose the one with spinach and onions

"Herbivore." She sighed when she specifically sought out plant-based substitutes in the grocery store.

None of it was malevolent, that's just Moblit, but all of it was calling attention to a problem Hange didn't want to address.

"Why?"

A great question really. In any other situation, for any other subject matter, Hange would be asking herself the same thing. That was what drove her to get such good grades at University. It's what made her so good in her job: finding the criminals, or at least that’s what the majority in the precinct thought. Questioning motive is, arguably, the core of a human's existence. But not when it's about yourself. And about events that brought changes into your life. And him.

It's not anyone’s business why I do the things I do, I just do them and pretend I'm not about to die, it's the Hange Zoe way, right ? Right.

But after so many years of trying, pretending to be living in willful, blissful ignorance, Hange doesn't think she can do it anymore. She tried to keep that shit all bottled up, nice, and sealed off from the functioning parts of herself that she needed to get through the day, but something in her wasn’t letting her anymore. Maybe her soul is leery of walls… Understandable, but not helpful. Whatever it was, it eventually won out over her consciousness, and she found herself taking time to be by herself, asking the question:

"Why don't I eat meat anymore?"

The immediate response comes from the part of herself that is bratty and stubborn. Because I don't want to, dumbass. But that's too basic. It's a knee-jerk reaction to something getting too close to a wound she keeps away from everyone’s glares: a defense mechanism.

Directly after that is the logical answer. Because it's the environmentally conscious thing to do . To which Hange scoffs. Fucking Mother Theresa bullshit. She does care about the environment as much as any decent person would, but she's not so self-absorbed to think she should give up eating meat because she is just that dedicated to the cause.

Next is the rehearsed line. You know, it isn't crazy to take care of yourself. You're not getting any younger . This is generally the line she feeds to Moblit in hopes that it'll inspire him to lay off the cholesterol, but she feeds it to herself just the same. She feels fine. She's been lucky, all things considered. Physically, the only aches and pains that bother her are the ones she earns during missions and the standard joint pain from being 5’7. She doesn't need to watch her diet.

Underneath all of the excuses and flawed explanations, there's just the truth. The degrading, humiliating truth.

Because all meat is the same to me now. And I can't stomach it.

Hange doesn't think about the cage. It doesn't help anyone to dwell on the past, especially when the anyone is her. If she thinks about it too long she loses touch with reality. She forgets her age. She forgets her body. Sometimes she feels like part of her is still there, like life didn't pull the most precious thing to her, with a brutal force, and accidentally left a piece behind, and it's calling to her. Like it's playing a masochistic game of telephone with cups and string.

Hange doesn't think about the cage, but that's where the answer lies. She remembers the smell more than anything, more than the pain or the visions, it was the clotting smell of congealed blood and a barely noticeable hint of the oh-so-familiar detergent that Mike had immediately picked up. It was his limbs hanging lifelessly while his eyes were held open to watch as Zeke ripped pieces off of his bones with his forceps. It was his blood; all the disgusting things no one wants to think about collected on the floor where he was laid out. The point in every weekend where the gore was so intermixed that Hange didn't know if the remainings she saw were his or Zeke’s other countless victims was always a breaking point. No matter how many weeks went by, there was always more of her to break. The shattered pieces of herself are getting shattered again. Zeno's paradox of the tortoise and Achilles.

Apparently, there is still more of her to break. Hange loses time and space, but the one thing she knows is that she is broken now. She knows why her heart beats so hard and fast at the thought of diner breakfasts. She knows why she gets disgusted after seeing people eating burgers in the local cafe during lunchtime even though they taste good. She knows why the idea of buying meat at the grocery store makes her hyperventilate.

She comes back to the place they used to live, together. At first, it was a way to save some money for renting a nice apartment, then they decided to move in as they got comfortable with each other’s quirks, and their own feelings. The apartment is still the same: clean, impeccably clean. She hasn’t sold it, nor has she changed anything in here. Every weekend she comes here to clean the place, although no one lives here and won’t live for as long as she is alive. She steps inside the cozy living room, where they used to spend long hours, drinking tea, or watching crime documentaries to trash the dumb directors for making so many mistakes or celebrating his birthday. She immediately falls to the floor. Blind with panic. An empty stomach, the acid in her mouth-- this place smells like him. Even after so many years of his absence, his scent still lingers around.

Fuck. I need to drink some water, I need to concentrate on breathing… slow and steady

It took years of therapy and psychological research to get her to this point, but still, she can’t stop the panic in its tracks.

This isn't that cage.

There's no way she'll ever eat meat again, not now. Not with the image of him brought to the surface.

And he’s not here.

Hange cannot forget him. She cannot erase him from her memory. Move on. She won't. She'd rather die. She'd rather go back to that moment, to that cage, than continue her life as if he didn’t exist at all.

There’s something else too, something sadder than it is traumatic, and that is that as she forgets the taste of meat, the pain of that day gets raw and more pronounced as if a reminder of the reason why she got where she is now.

She imagines his eyes, the color of the sky on a rainy day, calm and piercing, he looks at her with the same stare he used to give her many years ago. The same expression he wore whenever she caused him trouble with her recklessness and he would scold her with a hint of tenderness reserved only for her. It's a comforting thought for some reason. Comforting that he could look her in the eye and say, "It’s not your fault. It never was your fault. I didn’t blame you for that day in the cage."

These are just words, a trick of her broken mind, a hallucination, whatever Hange calls it, and they don’t matter when he has long been buried in the countryside, next to his mother, but the contrast of Levi’s calm and peaceful face in the corners of her dark soul, tainted with horrible nightmares of that day in the cage is grounding enough to bring her eyesight back. She sits with her back against the old couch, breathing heavily.

It's okay. This is the place you used to call ‘home’. But now it is empty and you don't have to stay here. Everything is okay. Breathe, Hange.

This voice in her head is more Levi’s than it is hers, which is why it works. She breathes. Unfortunately, that means that his voice in her head is fading into the background of her endless thoughts. It is always like this: it is strong enough to bring her back from the edge of the abyss a fraction of a second before she falls, but not enough to show her the way back to safety. To normal life. If normal life is ever achievable for her

Fucking pathetic. You can’t face this room without having a panic attack and crying on the floor. How old are you?

It takes effort to retrieve the calm facade back. It is even more straining to realize that this is going to repeat. Again and again. Hange's already exhausted, but this is something she knows how to solve. She knows the cheat codes. She reminds herself that she has been through more than anyone should have to go through, her soul has lived longer than anyone's should in a place it never should have been, and that that has taken a toll. It's the same as any other injury Hange sustained; she pushes through until she can’t anymore, and then she treats it. It won’t fully heal, leaving scars and marks, but that’s the part of life. No one leaves this place unharmed. At least, she reminds herself that someday this will be over. She just needs to stay strong till that moment.

This is a success.

I'm a grown-ass detective and I don't have to eat meat if I don't want to. Ha ha!

She picks herself up off the floor and goes to get the cleaning supplies, the same brand he used to buy. She brushes her teeth and grabs a drink of water in the kitchen. She then follows his instructions, already well memorized, and cleans the dust off the bookshelf, washes his favorite cup, and then neatly folds his clothes. Hange's bones feel heavier than they should, but she reminds herself that this is normal, that panic attacks will do that. After she wraps up the usual ritual of cleaning this empty apartment the way he taught her, maybe she'll grab a protein bar on the way back home and just crawl into bed and sleep for a while. The nightmares will come, but they always do, and she needs to handle them.

Progress isn't linear, and every day she is alive is a success

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #hange zoe #levi ackerman #levihan #ao3fic

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admelioraii · 3 years ago

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In the footsteps of the Incan ancestors

Peruvian children in traditional clothing

Peru means “land of abundance”(in Aymara language) and that is a perfectly chosen word to describe this rich, diverse and colourful country. It is the third largest country in South America after Brazil and Argentina.

Peru has big amounts of mineral, agricultural and marine resources that have long served as its economic foundation.

The cold Peruvian current where upwelling brings abundant nutrients to the water surface there the beneficial effects of the sunlight results in plankton growth, which make these waters one of the world's greatest fishing grounds.

In spite of Peru's tropical location in the Southern Hemisphere it has enormous differences in climate, economical activities and ways of life.Peru is normally divided into three main geographic zones. The Andean highlands, the arid coastline and the largely unpopulated Peruvian Amazon, the rainforest.

This large geographical diversity gives Peru one of the greatest biodiversities in the world. In the upcoming section we will follow the footsteps of the Peruvian forefathers to discover more about this great and colourful country.

First footstep:👣

Our first footstep is the pre Incan culture.

The civilization “Caral” marks the beginning of the Peruvian, as well as the rest of the American continent’s history.

It is estimated to be as old as 5000 years, making it contemporary with the civilizations of Mesopotamia, Egypt, China and India.

Nevertheless, without leaving much trace of evidence of its existence the caral civilization suddenly disappeared and was replaced by the “Chavin” civilization.

In that way the history kept repeating itself and civilization followed civilization, some disappeared by themselves others were conquered by stronger ones.

Nasca Lines, Peru

Second Footstep:👣👣

Our second footstep is the Nazca. The Nazcas predated the Incas by as much as 2000 years, in other words 800 B.C and are most famous for having drawn the Nazca lines.

These are huge drawings representing a hummingbird, spider, fish, condor, heron, monkey, lizard, cat, dog and a human or some of the lines are just lines. By making shallow incisions in the desert floor, removing stones and leaving differently coloured dirt exposed, the lines they drew have been preserved during thousands of years due to the extreme environmental circumstances that have helped to preserve them.

The purpose of the lines is unclear but experts presume their purposes are religious.

Lake Titicaca, Peru

Third Footstep:👣👣👣

The third footstep is Lake Titicaca. This important lake has a maximum depth of 280 meters and is shared by Peru and Bolivia and is situated high up in the Andes at 3.812 metres. It is the world's highest navigable lake and it is said to be the birthplace of the Incas. The waters of lake Titicaca are famously still and brightly reflexive.

This fresh water lake, that also is one of South America’s largest lakes, is shaped as a puma, herefrom its name Titicaca meaning puma in Aymara language. Today we can see floating villages made of reeds on the lake, where the Uros people live. They rely on fishing and tourism for survival.

We also find protected aquatic wildlife by the lake, special and unique are the giant frogs.

Statue of Pachacutec, Aguas Calientes, Peru

Fourth Footstep:👣👣👣👣

The forth footstep are the Incas.

The Incan Empire was the last chapter of thousands of years of Andean civilization directly preceded by two other large scale Empires, the Tiwanaku 300-1100 A.C in the lake Titicaca region and the Wari or Huari 600-1100 A.C near the city of Ayacucho.

As said earlier the Incan civilization was born by the shores of lake Titicaca and grew to become an Empire, at the time known as “realm of the four parts”. It was the largest Empire in pre-Columbian America.

No monetary currency was used in the Incan Empire but exchange of goods and taxes consisted of a labour obligation of a person to the Empire. Another interesting fact is that they used knotted strings or so called “ quipus” for record keeping and written communication.

The Incas rose to power in the early 13th century and their last stronghold was conquered in 1572 by Spanish conquerors.

Ruins of the Empire can be found across Peru today, some of which are hidden by the rainforest's intense vegetation.

Machu Picchu, Peru

Fifth Footstep:👣👣👣👣👣

One of these ruins and our fifth footstep is Machu Picchu.

Machu Picchu the city in the clouds.

Machu Picchu is one of the only Inca towns to have survived the Spanish conquest.

Believed to have been built in the 1400’s Machu Picchu got the nickname “the lost city of the Incas” because it is said that the Spanish never set foot there.

Because of its position up of two fault lines it experiences frequent earthquakes but thanks to the combination of its intelligent design and sturdy building materials it has survived through time.

There are 150 buildings in this old site and they vary from temples to bathhouses.

Without doubt one of the most impressive architectural features of Machu Picchu is the renowned staircase with 100 steps that have been carved out of one single piece of stone.

On top of that and as far as we know the Incas didn’t have any wheels thus it had to have been hauled to the summit by hand or carved out of the mountain itself.

Machu Picchu translated from Quechua means “old mountain “or “old peak” and it was cleverly built to withstand earthquakes and to avoid landslides. Water collecting systems were built under the buildings inside the mountains.

These systems collected water in drainage basins and the water was later redistributed throughout Machu Picchu and surroundings.

Roads leading to and from Machu Picchu were connected to the Empire’s transport system including paths, bridges and mountain tracks that stretched all over Peru.

Rainbow Mountains

Sixths Footstep:👣👣👣👣👣👣

Even though our sixth footstep doesn’t involve the country’s history it is a remarkably beautiful footstep.

The rainbow mountains.

The colour of these mountains resembles that of a rainbow, here from the name, they are also called “Montaña de siete colores” (the seven coloured mountain). It is situated in the Andean mountain chain at 5.200 meters above sea level.

These beautifully multicoloured mountains with tones of turquoise, lavender,gold, terracotta and red, contain 14 different colours in total. The mountains have got their colours from weathering and mineralogy. The dissimilar colouration developed due to different environmental conditions and mineralogy when the sediment was originally deposited and later día genetically altered. The temperature here is 0 degrees celcius at night. It is one of the world’s most amazing natural wonders!

Chan Chan, Peru

Seventh Footstep:👣👣👣👣👣👣👣

The seventh and last footstep is a combination of some small, scattered and interesting locations.

Framed by three volcanoes and built primarily from white volcanic stones, Arequipa is one of Peru’s most charming colonial cities.

It is here that we find “Santuarios Andinos “ , a small museum with a grisly secret, the mummified remains of the young victims offered as human sacrifices in the peak overlooking the city.

The 550 years old “ice maiden “ Juanita is the best preserved of the mummies.

Even though the south of Peru is a land of Misty volcanoes here we also find one of the world's deepest canyons “Colca” with a depth of 3.250 meters, where mighty condors live. The tribe”los collaguas” who also lived here in the high part of the canyon, used to bury their dead by digging a hole along the steep rocky canyon and marking it with red paint. Faint red stains can still be found today when driving along the canyon on the roads on the tops of the mountains.

In the northern parts of Peru where the Moche civilization had its stronghold around 300 A.D, we find the Lord of Sipán (señor de Sipán). His remains were found not too long ago as the first of a group of mummies found at Huaca Rajada, Sipán.

Lord of Sipán was 35-45 years old when he died but it is his treasures that amazed the world as most of his ornaments were either gold, silver, bronze or semi precious stones.

The Incan bath houses are situated in Cajamarca, it is centred on a spa which uses thermal spring water with medical and therapeutic benefits.

It is said to have been the favourite place of the Incan Lord Atawallpa.

Another remarkable location is the Chanchan cultures sand houses in the capital of the Chimu kingdom, they are from the 15th century and still standing today.

Gold Treasures

Conclusion:

Having followed the footsteps, we have reached the end of our mountain trail. This marks the finish line of our journey in Peru leaving us with the conclusion.

Peru, as the rest of Latin America, are rich and abundant countries. They are also known for centuries to have been rich in precious metals such as gold and silver.

It is not difficult to imagine where the rumours of “ El dorado” come from.

Whether it is imaginary, based on legends or somewhat truth based.

One can ask himself if there was nothing else behind Columbus' voyage to the “ new world”.

Al khashkhash ibn Said ibn Aswad , an Andalusian citizen from Còrdoba, traveled with a group of friends by ship and crossed the “sea of darkness”(that’s what the Arabs used to call the Atlantic Ocean). On his return in 889 A.C he shared his stories about what he saw and the people he met.

Imam al Shabi, wrote in one of his books 600 A.C about a land behind al Andalus, as far away from there as “we” are from al Andalus.

In any case, they were not the only ones to have discovered the”big land”.

According to the Arabs the Africans, to be more precise the Malians, also traveled to Latin America, they as well as the Arabs went to the Americas in pre-Columbian times.

Mali was one of the richest and most developed countries in Africa in the 14th century.

Could Columbus have been so confused or misinformed or was it a “cover up expedition” as an excuse to conquer and plunder “the big land”???

Information obtained from;

Etapas históricas del Perú www gob.pe gobierno del Perú,

National Geographic’s Megastructures,

Historical Arabic sources, and

A special thanks to a dear friend for providing insight and support.

#travel #history #peru #south america #inca #colombus #writblr #writers #writers on tumblr #machu picchu #rainbow mountain #rainbow #titicaca #lake titicaca #nazca #nazca lines

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carriagelamp · 4 years ago

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I read more books this month than I anticipated. I should probably wait before doing a February book round up, but I already feel like I’m struggling to decide which ones to cut from my list so I’m doing it this weekend instead of next. If I read much next week I’ll bump ‘em up into March’s round up

Asterix and the Missing Scroll / Chieftain’s Daughter

I got the last two “new” Asterix books out of the library so I could officially say I had read them all. Over all my opinion is… they’re fine! None of these would ever become one of my favourites, but they’re all fine stories. The art is good, it is completely in-line with the original, and the stories are… fine. I liked The Missing Scroll quite a bit more than The Chieftain’s Daughter but I never find a ~hurr hurr teenagers~ plotline that interesting, whereas I do enjoy seeing Romans get chased down by unicorns so that’s probably not surprising. There’s some spark I can’t put my finger on that the new Asterix books just seem to be missing though… a bit of humour or cleverness or something. Still, they’re fine reads if you’ve been hungry for more Asterix and I’m glad I read them. (Though the library gave me the American translation of The Chieftain’s Daughter, something I didn’t realize until I started reading and realized that this is wrong??? I’ve been reading these books since I could read and I know this is wrong??? What the hell is happening??? The I realized the publisher was different and I simmered in fury the whole time I read it — WHY ARE YOU CHANGING NAMES AND WORD CHOICES IN A WELL ESTABLISHED SERIES THAT ALREADY HAS AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION YOU ANIMALS WHY ARE YOU DUMBING DOWN THE LANGUAGE AAAUGH

The Bride Was A Boy

This one was cute! The Bride Was A Boy is an autobiographical manga written by a transwoman recounting her experience with transitioning, meeting her boyfriend, and eventually getting married. It’s mostly done in a 4-panel style and is interspersed with lots of information about the LGBT community, particularly in Japan. A lot of it was stuff I was already familiar with, but I still found it adorable and a very worthwhile read. it would be a fantastic book for young queer people who are looking for more of an introduction into international queer space

Cul de Sac: Children At Play

Cul de Sac is just a weird, fun newspaper comic series about the children who live in a small neighbourhood. It fully taps into the children-as-semi-feral-chaos-agents, and there’s something hilariously nostalgic about the whole thing. Lots of times when stories try to portray children there’s always something… wrong about it, something that doesn’t mesh with true childhood, but in this comic I can see glimpses of my grimy, dirty-covered self as a preschooler running around the pages. I would definitely recommend trying them!

The Cremation of Sam McGee

I reread The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew and man, they don’t stop being buckwild. These are two really famous Canadian poems that were then illustrated by equally famous Canadian artist Ted Harrison. Harrison’s style is gorgeous and distinct and given what strangely grisly stories these poems are they fit the mood perfectly. Everything feels just a little tilted and wrong and unsettling. If you enjoy an occasional poem (especially ones that are super fun to read out loud) and haven’t read these before, I would recommend them! Or do what my teachers did, and read Sam Gee to a young child in your life and watch them be baffled and concerned and horrified.

There are strange things done / in the midnight sun / by the men who moil for gold...

The Gryphon’s Lair

The second book of the Royal Guide to Monster Slaying series written by Kelley Armstrong; I’ve been eagerly awaiting this book! It’s a very cool fantasy series because it really leans into environmental stewardship and the importance of studying animals and conservation so you can find ways to live alongside a healthy ecosystem. In this book Rowan is officially accepted as the Royal Monster Hunter, which means a whole new set of trials and burdens. She has to contend with a baby gryphon that is becoming increasingly large and dangerous, plotting family members, doubt about her abilities, a potential curse, and a daunting quest deep into the mountains in order to set things right. If you’re looking for some very gentle high fantasy, this series delivers.

Hogan’s Heroes comics

What to say here. Anyone following this blog has suffered the knowledge that I’ve been rewatching Hogan’s Heroes lately. When I found out that there was a short-lived, shitty comic series in the 60s? Of course I had to hunt them down. And so I’ve read them! And they sure were a shitty comic series from the 60s! They were, shall we say, of wildly varying quality. Some were actually really funny (like #5, it easily had the best art and best jokes imho), others were a slog, and most were fine and amusing enough to read the whole way through but not much more.

If you don’t know what Hogan’s Heroes is about: it was a 1960s sitcom that took place in a WWII POW camp, in which the Allied prisoners trapped there had a massive, complex sabotage/spy ring right underneath the camp. The whole show is about constantly outwitting the bumbling Germans while keeping up the pretense that they’re all just normal prisoners. The show is hilariously funny and I would recommend that, even if I can’t say the same for the comics unless you’re like me and are just really thirsty for more content...

Magic Misfits: The Fourth Suit (Ripley)

The final book of Neil Patrick Harris’ middle grade series, The Magic Misfits. In this fourth book, the group is fragmented and forced to meet in secret to avoid notice from the mysterious and powerful Kalagan whose cruel machinations have already turned the quiet little town on its ears, putting people’s lives in peril and destroy Leila’s fathers’ magic shop. The Misfits are going to need all their skills to finally unmask this sinister magician and break the mesmerism he seems to have placed over the entire town before it’s too late to save no only the town, but their friendship and trust.

Super charming series, and the illustrations are gorgeous.

Marsupilami

HOUBA! I watched a very bad TV adaptation of this as a kid that still managed to find a place in my heart, and so I decided to finally try reading some of the original comic! On one hand: it was exactly what I had hoped! The art is cute, the marsupilami is so dynamic and fun to see on the page (and has a way better characterization than he does in the show), and it’s really funny! Unfortunately! It is also pretty racist! Yikes! That seems to be a reoccuring downfall for some of these older Belgian comics... I also tried reading the first book of Les Tuniques Bleues and aye ye ye… I couldn’t actually get through that one. That being said, these were older volumes and frankly, North American media was also real fucking racist at that point so I’m not gonna write them off either. I really liked most of this book, and will probably try to get my hands on one of the more recent volumes of both Marsupilami and Les Tuniques Bleues to see if they get better with time. (If you’ve read either of those series and have volume recommendations hmu)

The Pagemaster

I’m a sucker for novelizations, I have no excuse beyond that. I recently rewatched The Pagemaster and decided to read the chapter book. And it was a solid little adaptation! It’s about Richard Tyler, a young boy with a head for statistics which unfortunately means he lives in constant fear of (in his opinion, statistically likely) injury or death. However that fear is put to the test when he gets caught in a horrible thunderstorm and has to shelter in a nearby library with halls and shelves that stretch beyond the imagination and with untold perils hidden among the pages of the books. Richard, with only his library card and three novels that hope to be checked out, has to venture through the different genres and horrors housed int he library if he ever wants to find the exit and get home to safety.

Pumpkinheads

A very charming little graphic novel. Cute art, and really loveable characters. Josiah and Deja work every year at a local pumpkin patch, and are best friends during those weeks. However this is their last year working there before going off to university and as the last day at the patch comes to a close they realize that they both still have regrets. Deja sets off on a mission to avoid work, eat all the interesting snacks around the patch, and get Josiah to find the girl he’s been crushing on every year and has never worked up the nerve to talk to.

After being deprived of human contact for almost a year, this book really hits you right in the heart.

The Screwfly Solution

A deeply upsetting scifi/horror short story! I read it on the recommendation of a friend and, yes, can confirm that this fucked me up a bit. I honestly don’t even know what to say about this that wouldn’t spoil it, but frankly with everything being as it is, this hit a little bit too close to reality. (That being said, it was very well written, like this is a very good story on a literary level and it does exactly what it sets out to accomplish.) If you feel like reading twenty pages and being really disturbed, give it a go! Otherwise go and read any number of the much happier books on this list!

The Whipping Boy

This was a book I remember reading as a lit circle book back in elementary school and really loving. After telling myself I’d reread it for years, I finally sat down with it again. If you somehow got through school without reading this one, it’s about a brat of a prince and his whipping boy — since it would be unspeakable to strike a prince, when the prince misbehaves it is Jemmy who gets whipped. Unsurprisingly, there is no love lost between the two of them, because the prince is always intentionally causing problems that Jemmy has to suffer for. Things begin to change though when the prince decides to run away and drags Jemmy along with him. On the run, being chased by highwaymen, and desperately trying to hide their identities, these boys go on a fast-paced adventure beyond the castle walls. It wasn’t as special as I remembered it being as a kid, but it’s a fine little chapter book.

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chaoticfriendship · 4 years ago

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This is not hate but how can you support someone like pewdiepie after all hes done? I feel like it's wrong to put him with Jack because sometimes i feel like jacks his friend only because he feels he needs to because of the shoutout. Don't stan him with Jack or associate him with him please. Pewdiepie is a bad influence and a white supremacist

Ok. Let’s talk. I was going to ignore this but you’re really persistent. This is the fifth ask you have sent me telling me the same thing but in different ways. Sad thing is that I just started this blog, I can’t believe this keeps happening to me in every fandom I go to. Some of you need to understand something about Felix.

Yes, I’m aware he did a lot of questionable things. And no, he’s not a white supremacist. He’s not racist. And he’s not homophobic or whatever Twitter/the media is saying about him these days. I might not know him personally but I’ve been watching Felix since the very beginning and even with this little info about his life I can tell the difference between some things people choose to ignore about him. He’s a very honest person and he always tells everyone the information they need to know about him, whether it is about his personal life or his pewdiepie persona. His real actual friends (Jack, Ken, Mark -also good people, and whether you like it or not, Jack is one of them) held him accountable for the things he did and also made sure to assure everyone that the ‘Pewdiepie’ personality is totally different than his real-self. They confirmed he’s not any of his mistakes. Meaning the ‘Pewdiepie’ personality got too far and the facade/entertainment mask fell off of him when he made those mistakes. This was not only a lesson for him but it showed him places that needed real improvement in his life, something we all need sometimes. We all fall short in understanding the potential harm we can do to others and we easily face the temptation to define ourselves by ignoring those crucial parts. What Felix needed to learn was self-awareness. And he’s now constantly working on it so he can objectively evaluate himself when it comes to those things. Some people face this alone and privately but, him, as an internet sensation had to do it on camera.

Pay attention to what his actual friends say about him. Jack himself said it:

‘It is strange, all the stuff that gets said about him, it’s kind of weird to see that being said about a friend of yours. To hear his actual thoughts on it…people like to take things every which way and twist things all over the place. I don’t know how he does it, with that many people on you and that much scrutiny on you constantly. I think I would have lost my mind by now.’

I’m also aware he’s a white rich guy and that he’s a step up on the scale from me and other people but I’m sure that if I dig long enough, I’m going to find something about certain actors/actresses/musicians (that most likely you and other people love) as well. Meaning they’re human at the end of the day and they might make mistakes too. Felix is the same case here.

It was dumb to say certain things and do certain things? YES. I held him accountable when he did those things. He didn’t need to say or do the things he did. It was irresponsible, harmful and immature from his part. However, he’s willing to make a change and work on it so this is something I can appreciate.

He did the fivver video. This is his statement:

‘I make videos for my audience. I think of the content that I create as entertainment, and not a place for any serious political commentary. I know my audience understand that and that is why they come to my channel. Though this was not my intention, I understand that these jokes were ultimately offensive. I think it’s important to say something and I want to make one thing clear: I am in no way supporting any kind of hateful attitudes.’

his response.

He said the ‘n’ word. He sincerely apologized. This is his statement:

‘I hate how I personally fed into that part of gaming. It was something that was said in the heat of the moment. I said the worst word I could possibly think of and it slipped out. I’m not going to make excuses to why I did it because there are not excuses for it. I’m dissappointed in myself because it seems like I learned nothing from controversies. And it’s not like I think I can do or say whatever I want and get away with it. I’m just an idiot but that doesn’t make what I said or how I said it okay. It was not okay. I’m really sorry If I offended, hurt or disappointed anyone with all of this. Being in the position I am, I should know better. I know I can’t keep messing up like this and I owe it to my audience and to myself to do better than this. I really want to improve and better myself, not just for me but for anyone that looks up to me or anyone that is influenced by me and that’s how I wanna move forward. Away from this.’

source: my response.

He:

Held himself accountable.

Made no excuses for his behaviour.

Recognized he did something wrong and stupid.

Sincerely apologized for it without making a fake act or fake crying for sympathy.

Never asked for sympathy or support because he's willing to make a real change in behavior.

Realized some people are influenced by him and worked to be better for them and himself.

Chose to be himself and stand his ground on an important matter to make his audience understand he was taking this as serious as it is.

Understood he gave ammunition that feeds some people the wrong idea and didn’t try to rationalize it because he knows he should take accountability for it.

Saw that he had no need for jokes or words like that in his vocabulary in the first place and worked on self-control.

Rightfully feels ashamed for his actions.

Here you can see Felix takes this seriously. He’s not messing around with what happened. He takes it with the responsibility it should be taken.

And this is enough for me. I’m sorry if you think Felix needs to do a blood sacrifice to prove himself but that’s just not how it works.

We all have said or done things we are not proud of. He did many of them and trust me, he was held accountable for them. How? Here’s a list of the consequences:

He was part of the original content network YouTube Red, and was affiliated with Disney’s MakerStudios brand where he had his own network. Disney cut all ties with him.

They cancelled his YouTube Red show, where a lot of people put big effort (not only the participants but the crew members). You can see that this was important for him. It was not just some random ass show.

Was held accountable for his actions and it was made known every mistake he did. Every single one.

Received the proper criticism from the media, his fans and his own friends.

He also received harsh backlash and hate from the situation.

Lost support from followers, celebrities, friends and companies.

He’s constantly attacked by people and media outlets on a daily basis. Some people even fabricate false stories about him.

He faced the proper consequences for those actions. Let him move on already.

You also listed a bunch of stuff in one of your asks, things he’s NEVER done. Those are things the media has made you and everyone else believe he did but he didn’t. This is why you should never believe any random media headline, you need to actually do your own research to see if that’s true or not. Here are the things you said he did (none of these are true):

No, he hasn’t hired people to say the ‘n’ word. This is not true at all.

No, he doesn’t promote Adolf Hitler speeches and anti-semitic cartoons. Disney did once tho.

No, he’s not homophobic. At all. He was actually evicted from his own flat because his previous landlord is an actual homophobic person and called him and his crew the ‘f’ word. He decided to move far away from the guy.

No, he didn’t perform the Nazi heil. Never.

No, he didn’t pay the ‘Jesus’ guy to hold a sign that says ‘Hitler did nothing wrong’ this is a lie. Someone else did it and the media said it was him to cause more controversy. He paid him to say ‘Subscribe to Jacksepticeye’.

No, he’s not racist. For this, his content would’ve to be filled with racial jokes and actual intentional attacks daily. His content is not like that, trust me, the most he does is play with some tambourine all the time. He’s said the ‘n’ word (something he admitted was terrible, apologized for it and took responsibility for his words), yes but someone that feels as bad and ashamed as he does, does not equal to what an actual racist is and how they act.

No, he didn’t dress up in a Klansman robe. He never did that. This is also false information about him.

No, he doesn’t bully his friends or enables bullying. I don’t know where the media got that one but I can assure you they’ve got no friends if they think his interactions with his own friends are ‘bullying’.

No, he doesn’t joke about crises happening around the world. AT ALL. He constantly raises money for them (and gives his own money as well) to different causes such as the Wildfires Emergency Appeal, Team Trees (to plant 20 million trees), St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital (for kids with diseases such as cancer), Crisis Text Line, National Alliance on Mental Illness (a group that helps those suffering from mental illness), CRY (a GoFundMe campaign to help Indian children living in poverty), World Wildlife Fund (dedicated to the reduction of mankind’s environmental impact), RED (did a whole 7 hour livestream with friends to help people fighting HIV/AIDS in Africa), Charity: Water (a non-profit that provides drinking water to developing nations), Save the Children (for underprivileged kids to give them better education, healthcare, better economic opportunities), he recently raised $106,000 for the BLM movement donating the contributions to the family of George Floyd and other victims of police violence, Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, Hope for Holt, Malaria No More, Oceana, SpecialEffect, War Child, etc. Does this sound like someone who makes fun of real problems happening around the globe? No. And no, he hasn’t made fun of those causes either.

No, he doesn’t make fun of mental illnesses. He talks about it with the proper respect and delicacy it deserves. He constantly adresses mental health, shares resources for viewers who may be struggling and talks about the importance of being aware and getting legitimate help. Where are you taking these facts from?

No, he doesn’t support China’s police brutality. He was BANNED from China for critizing the president and the country’s treatment of Hong Kong’s anti-government protests. How hard is it to watch the real video instead of trusting some Susan from Twitter?

No, he has NEVER disrespected Japanese culture. Felix loves Japan and respects their culture. He always treats the people and the place with utter respect.

He’s not a white supremacist or a secret Nazi. Are you insane? He’s said it himself ‘f*** anyone who is racist and anyone who is a white nationalist. That’s not what I’m about. And that’s not what my channel has been about either.’ Maybe if you think about it, the media painted him that way and people decided to go with it because they don’t actually watch his videos. The number of accusations and stories are insane and ridiculous. Have you ever watched one of his videos? Ever? Because if you would’ve, you would know none of these things are true.

No, he doesn’t encourage kids/teens to see and follow Nazi ethics. He recommended a channel that does anime reviews (he didn’t know the channel had pro white-supremacy videos). You’re accusing him of that for not checking the thousand-something videos said channel has because he liked one anime review? This is reaching to a whole new degree. You could’ve randomly watched the same anime review vid, does that make you a Nazi as well? And NO, he didn’t wear an Iron Cross, he was wearing a Georgian Bolnisi cross. The shirt is by the Georgian designer Demna Gvasalia. Use Google please.

I don’t think you’re a real Jacksepticeye fan if you think he’s sticking up for him only because of a shout-out that happened years ago. Extend your perspective in this. He knows him in real-life. He’s his best friend. He can tell he’s not a bad person. This is not a hard thing to figure out.

Also, you forgot to put the anon option in one of your asks, so I know who you are. Weren’t you joking about WW3, using the ‘r’ word to fight with your followers and making fun of the BLM movement a few months ago on your twitter account? It might not look like it’s possible but we’ve also made and are capable of making some of the same mistakes too. The difference is that some of you hide behind the ‘it’s just humor to cope with life’ gen z card. Joking about a serious important movement is harmful as well, hope you can learn that.

I can’t tell you how to emotionally react to his content, however I can advise that if it bothers you that much you should remove yourself from the environment that revolves around him (if you even watch his videos which I highly doubt) if you’re not willing to give him a chance. You also need to remember that forgiveness is private and personal, just because you don't see his content and can't see that change doesn't mean it's not happening. There’s power in understanding.

#pewdiepie #felix kjellberg #jacksepticeye #sean mcloughlin #youtube #youtubers

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johannesviii · 4 years ago

Text

A Useless Post Rating the Preppers From Death Stranding

Because I can and I will. I got super attached to some of these bunches of pixels while playing, and I want to share my useless and extra subjective opinions

No plot-related spoilers. This is only listing the Preppers and not any Bridges employee from the various cities and facilities. No reasonable individuals to be found here, only strange people living in bunkers, baby

Let’s go

The Ludens Fan

Shelter placement: On a mountain, right between a Timefall zone and MULE territory, and not on any obvious delivery route. Not great. The view is super nice, though. 6/10

Prepper: A cinnamon roll who believes the world will be saved by fandoms and games. Always happy to see you. Gets super excited when you find old figurines for him. Sends lost stuff to people he doesn’t even know. Has toy dinosaurs.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: He is a Friend. 9/10

The Musician

Shelter placement: Hidden behind a little cliff, on a mountain, in a patch of nice fresh moss, next to a cool waterfall, overlooking the whole valley. Not on any delivery route whatsoever but come on. This guy is living the dream. 10/10

Prepper: Talks to you as if he’s known you since highschool. Has an emo haircut. Very passionate about rock albums from the “beginning of the 21st century” so I’m assuming he’s a fellow MCR fan. The walls of his shelter are covered in vinyls. Wants to create and share the music of the future for free. Streams his concerts on the chiral network.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A harmonica. You can play it. I’m in love

Opinion while playing: Hell yeah what a cool dude 10/10

The Engineer

Shelter placement: In plain view right next to a huge road and two MULE territories. Dude didn’t even try to hide and his packages are stolen all the time. At least the weather is nice? 3/10

Prepper: Has spent his entire life inside of this bunker since birth. Polite and a bit shy. Has a friendly smile. Judging by the amount of alcohol we deliver to him, feels lonely. Sometimes you’ll find gallons of lube with his name on it and he’ll refuse to give any kind of explanation and to be fair the guy probably uses it for all his mechanical inventions. But deep down, we know.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the Power Skeleton. You know you want them.

Opinion while playing: Another Friend. I will judge him silently every time I have to bring him his lost lube though. 9/10

The Craftsman

Shelter placement: Next to a huge road on a plain ravaged by Timefall, between two MULE territories and a voidout crater choke-full of BTs. Can potentially see the nightmarish ruins of a roadside factory and a traffic jam where everyone clearly got killed. I don’t know if I hate it or respect the shit out of it. 2/10

Prepper: Suspicious of us. Sends us on a suicide mission to fetch old equipment in a terrifying place. Hates Fragile, so we can’t be friends. Likes to fix broken watches, apparently. A lot of his lost packages seem to be special reinforced underwear. I’m curious but also I don’t want to pry.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Custom hematic grenades. Can’t live without them.

Opinion while playing: A suspicious little shit and I don’t trust him but he’s still a good ally. 5/10

The Elder

Shelter placement: On a majestic plateau in the middle of the region, overlooking everything. Not on any obvious route, which is a problem, but also away from danger, Timefall and MULEs. A green little patch of heaven. 9/10

Prepper: Old and kind but takes no shit from anybody. All of his emails are like “anyway, f█ck the government and f█ck this country” and I’m living for it. Will give away old photo albums, books and games predating the Death Stranding, in hope they can be shared with other people and their kids. Wholesome as hell.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: The most valid boomer you will ever see. My adoptive grandfather and I must protect him at all costs. 10/10

Peter Englert

Shelter placement: Not on any obvious delivery route but right next to Lake Knot City on a plain ravaged by Timefall. You can see Middle Knot City’s crater from there. Not a bad spot, but also no good vibes whatsoever. 6/10

Prepper: Never at home, has no hologram and keeps finding terrible excuses not to be there, which is rude. Possibly imaginary friends and relatives. Writes extremely long and well-spoken, obsequious, smarmy emails to you and you’ll receive them at the worst possible moments, like he just knows. Only interested in pizza, and you.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Hope you like high quality guns, and very disturbing journal entries.

Opinion while playing: Was literally calling him my nemesis even BEFORE learning anything about the guy. The best and the worst prepper at the same time. Go f█ck yourself, dude, I love you. Pizza/10

The Timefall Farmer and the Environmental Scientist

Shelter placement: Right next to a huge MULE territory. There’s the Tar Belt in the distance and no city, road or friends for miles. Very awkward. 4/10

Preppers: Planned to study the effects of Timefall on plants and became farmers instead. They are not enjoying it one bit and you’re under the impression they occasionally get on each other’s nerves even though they’ve been colleagues for years. The concept of their farm is a fantastic bit of worldbuilding, though, but they are a bit bland themselves.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A goose hologram. I need it

Opinion while playing: They’re super nice but their general weariness is too contagious for comfort. 4/10

The Film Director

Shelter placement: In the middle of jagged rocks, reasonably far away from local MULEs and Timefall, but also from any kind of road or decent delivery route. The ground is a poisonous reddish brown with occasional smoke. Ominous. 5/10

Prepper: Really worried about ancient media getting lost and forgotten, and will do anything to save old movies from oblivion. Trusts you instantly. Is always surprised you brought something for him, or just thought about him, and it’s heartwarming to see. Geeks about things he likes in your emails when he isn’t low-key flirting with you. Has the most epic beard you will ever see in your life.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A rock hologram. Uh?

Opinion while playing: Came for the geeking, stayed for the flirting 8/10

The Collector

Shelter placement: Inside a cavern two-thirds up a vertical rock face in a canyon slap bang in the middle of MULE territory. Invisible from ground level, and invisible from the bottom of the canyon. The MULEs live literally next door and don’t even know the guy is there. No chill whatsoever. Incredible. What a king. 10/10

Prepper: Shaped like a friend. Loves videogames and loves geeking about them. Fascinated by pre-Stranding press like “people were buying newspapers? On real paper?? :O”. Really wants you to read his emails because he’s got nobody to share his special interests with. Wants to write about your adventures to inspire other people. Occasionally you’ll find a lost package with a vintage playstation and you know it’s for him even without looking at the name on the tag.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A backpack cover to protect your stuff from Timefall?? holy shit?

Opinion while playing: We have no choice but to stan. 9/10

The Junk Dealer

Shelter placement: On a heavily polluted, rust-colored hill in the middle of a scrapyard full of broken down cars, overlooking both MULE and BT territory AND some f█cking terrifying ruins on all sides. It’s metal as shit, but also, the dude’s got a death wish. 3/10

Prepper: Tries to emotionally blackmail us with videos of his supposedly dead girlfriend. Very rude. Sends us on a suicide mission in BT territory to look for junk just for a laugh. Is such a piece of shit he got divorced by a woman who was willing to be carried under heavy Timefall through a horde of BTs to see him. Killed his girlfriend’s parents and didn’t tell her.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the Speed skeleton, and also chiral ladders, which are both life-saving, and I hate the fact that I need those so much.

Opinion while playing: A piece of shit and a terrible human being. Go sit on some rusty metal in BT territory, my dude. 1/10

The Chiral Artist and her Mother

Shelter placement: Overlooking a bottomless lake of tar and depressing ruins plagued by Timefall, far from civilisation but also far from trouble. Depressing, but safe. 6/10

Preppers: A little ray of sunshine. Capable of planning a journey on foot while avoiding Timefall and BTs after having done the trip exactly once (1) and on our back, which makes her one of the bravest Preppers we ever meet. Talented as hell with chiralium. Very awkward speech patterns and elocution which I always find relatable. Makes extremely bad choices regarding her love life. Will send you likes in a cringy but cute way. I don’t really trust her adoptive mother too much but she seems to be friends with the Cosplayer and any friend of the Cosplayer is my friend.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Chiral boots. Literally the most useful thing anyone anywhere gave me in this game. No matter how far I am from her and her mom I will backtrack to get some brand new chiral boots from her every time I need them. They are that good

Opinion while playing: I love her but she’s making extremely bad life choices and it’s giving me mild anxiety 8/10

The Cosplayer and the Wandering MC

Shelter placement: At the very bottom of a long, narrow canyon plagued by Timefall, inside a vertical hole in the ground. How they haven’t both drowned yet is beyond me. This is the worst idea ever. 1/10

Prepper: Both of them are always super excited to see you. Trade a ton of art and crafts supplies back and forth with everyone in the region. Organised a goddamn post-apo cosplay convention through the chiral network. She considers cosplay to be ‘the art of transformation’, and he’s a big fan of you, and also otters. Otter facts. Dad Jokes to the max. Legends only

Will I get something nice if I help them: Backpack custom options. And the otter hood. Come on. Who doesn’t want to look like an otter. According to the MC it was “threaded and triple stitched by [his] cosplay partner using silk”. I don’t deserve this gift

Opinion while playing: Just because it’s the apocalypse doesn’t mean you can’t look and feel your best 10/10

The Doctor and the Medical Device Engineer

Shelter placement: Overlooking a little river in the mountains, right before the snow starts. Extremely close to Mountain Knot City. Practical and beautiful. Lovely spot. 8/10

Preppers: She invented and crafted a medical terminal that allows doctors to examine patients remotely through the network, and distributed it for free. He’s sitting on years of medical knowledge and stockpiles of meds, and also sharing both with everyone. Got married because they admired each other so much and shared a common hatred of the lack of medical assistance post-Stranding. Two absolute angels. We don’t deserve them

Will I get something nice if I help them: Custom blood bags. A must during boss fights.

Opinion while playing: A bit too serious, but mad respect. 7/10

The Photographer

Shelter placement: In the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, overlooking the valley, but away from everything and everyone, next to BT territory and daaaangerously close to the biggest Demens camp in the entire country. Who told you this was a good idea. 4/10

Prepper: The walls of her shelter are decorated with photos of beautiful landscapes. Friendly but takes no shit. Constantly trying to go out to take pictures of cool places and weird paleoart and stuff even though there’s a whole gang of terrorists outside firing live ammo at anyone on sight. Her cameras get stolen all the time, and yet she keeps doing it again and again. Judging by one delivery she sent to Mountain Knot City, she even has footage of Edge Knot City. You know. The unreachable nightmarish place beyond the f█cking Tar Belt. HOW

Will I get something nice if I help them: Guns because she clearly has no chill

Opinion while playing: This woman has more nerves in her left pinky than I have in my entire f█cking body. We stan a queen 9/10

The Novelist’s Son

Shelter placement: In a vast, beautiful green plain full of rivers and lakes, kind of in the middle of nowhere but also at a safe distance of the Demens territory. It’s painted the same green as the rest of the plain, which is a stroke of genius. 8/10

Prepper: Considering his title and the fact that the walls of his shelter are full of bookshelves, I expected a pretentious writer of sorts. But no. He doesn’t write. He’s just a soft boy who wants to save the world with plants. Will make sure you read his emails because he’s very passionate about gardening, gourds and mythology, and wants to talk about it with everyone. Too good for this world, too pure.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Special cryptobiotes! Pretty cool. I want to save some for Fragile

Opinion while playing: I love him I love thinking about him 10/10

The Roboticist

Shelter placement: High in the mountains, but in some sort of hollow, surrounded by snow and rocks on all sides. There’s also a nice hot spring nearby. Feels strangely safe and pleasant for such an isolated spot. 7/10

Prepper: Super approachable and quite friendly. Clearly a genius considering how good the all-terrain skeleton is. The stuff she’s looking for goes from stuff for her projects to a plush for her kid or a vintage coffee machine. Her emails, meanwhile, are shit-your-pants terrifying, like her wondering if machines should replace humans, or pranking you by pretending she was dead the whole time and her hologram is an IA. Thank you for the heart attack.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the all-terrain skeleton, hell yeah baby

Opinion while playing: I’m very conflicted because her emails are scary as shit but if she stepped on my face I’d say “thank you” 8/10

The Mountaineer and the Mountain Guide

Shelter placement: On top of a mountain but in a relatively flat and safe area, very isolated but also far from Beached Things, with good visibility. There’s logic to the madness. 6/10

Preppers: Initially in panic mode due to a medical emergency. Tough outside, but soft inside. He gives you precious advice about whiteouts and how to deal with them and stay alive in the mountains. We don’t know much about her, except she used to explore the mountains using chiral climbing anchors. Just speculation but I’m under the impression they met one day on a super dangerous expedition and ended together because they were both tough as nails, or maybe because they saved each other. Their kid is going to be unstoppable.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Chiral climbing anchors.

Opinion while playing: Wholesome couple of adventurers. A bit bland, but in a good way 7/10

The Spiritualist

Shelter placement: On a mountain peak in the middle of a whiteout area, but sometimes the weather can be decent and the view pretty nice, if you squint. Getting there feels like a test to join a secret cult and I don’t like that one bit. 3/10

Prepper: Twin sister of the Cosplayer, but gives off a very different vibe, like some sort of white suburban mom who’s discovering new age stuff. Has a very mystical approach to this whole apocalypse thing but seems to be wayyy too much into it for comfort. Really wants to see the Beach and tries to do so through meditation. We can receive chemicals from her. I do NOT want to know what’s in there.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A RACCOON HOLOGRAM?? I LOVE IT

Opinion while playing: Harmless but she scares me. 3/10

The First Prepper

Shelter placement: On a nearly inaccessible mountain peak battered by snow storms. The slope is so dangerous I straight up died once while walking on it. Absolutely nothing for miles and no visibility. That’s not a shelter, that’s a coffin. 1/10

Prepper: Apparently his family has lived in shelters ever since the beginning of the Cold War, then decided to stay there in case the world would end in the year 2000, then because of the Bush era, and long story short the guy is like “I did it before it was cool” and he’s literally gatekeeping other Preppers and calling them amateurs. Tries really hard to convince us to stop helping people and get our own shelter. At least he admits self-sufficiency is a mirage in the end, which is more than I expected from this clown.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A hat, and a wolf hologram

Opinion while playing: When the nicest thing I have to say about a Prepper is “well they’re not hurting anybody”, you know it’s bad. What a jerk 2/10

The Evo-Devo Biologist

Shelter placement: On an isolated snow slope away from civilisation, overlooking ruins and geysers in the distance. Not far from BT territory and terrorists, but still at a reasonable distance. Next to a hot spring. The view is majestic as f█ck. 9/10

Prepper: Looks strict and gives off severe teacher vibes, but you’re under the impression that’s purely because she hasn’t seen or talked to another human being in years. Polite but distant. Thinks the sixth mass extinction is a golden opportunity for science, and inevitable, and that we should study the shit out of it even if we end up dying. She’s not wrong exactly but also, yikes

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: I genuinely have no idea. An enigma. 5/10

The Geologist

Shelter placement: High in the mountains on a desolate snowy slope, completely isolated from everything. I think I’ve seen a movie about that kind of place once, except it was a hotel. 2/10

Prepper: The first package we bring to him is a shipment of meds to fight chiral contamination. No more nightmares or suicidal thoughts after that, so he’s ok. Also he’s obsessed with Heartman to the point you wonder if he’s got a crush on him, belittles himself and his work constantly, and also thinks saving the world is a waste of time and effort. No no he’s still ok, he swears. But yeah uh. Dude is clearly one small step away from blowing a fuse and going full Demens, we need to sit down and talk about your problems my friend

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: I like him but he worries me a lot and I’m a bit scared for him 7/10

The Paleontologist

Shelter placement: In a little valley in the mountains, where grass and snow meet, miles away from civilisation and roads, but also miles away from problems. If there wasn’t this pit full of toxic gas literally next door, this would be perfect. 8/10

Prepper: Likes to complain about everything and everyone. A bit rude but more in a familiar way than an unpleasant way. Extremely passionate about fossils and prehistoric stuff and gets super excited about ammonites in particular. Mentions exploring a place full of toxic gas without any kind of protection just to fetch some neat rocks once, so we both clearly have the same level of survival instincts when our special interests are involved.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really, unless you count level 2 Hematic Grenades

Opinion while playing: Relatable as shit. I feel like I’d be this guy if I existed in this game’s world. 9/10

The Veteran Porter

Shelter placement: Nowhere Man lives on a very abrupt slope full of rocks in the middle of Nowhereburg, Nowhere State, Nowherica. You get the feeling he knows the region like the back of his hand and picked that spot exactly for that reason and frankly, I have to respect that. 7/10

Prepper: Ex-Porter with a damaged spine. A retired adventurer, exhausted after carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Higgs used to be his boss back when he was still working at Fragile Express so the dude has massive trust issues now and I won’t argue with that. Initially suspicious of us and Bridges, for good reasons. Every time I found a super isolated bunker signed under Fragile Express I was like “woah their employees were hardcore to find all these places that Bridges couldn’t find”, and he’s one of these guys, and I get it now. And he’s tired. So tired. A whole mood.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: Unlike the First Prepper I respect the shit out of him and I want him to enjoy his well-earned retirement 8/10

#death stranding #long post #eye contact tw

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starwarsfic · 4 years ago

Text

Breathe In With Hunger

Originally posted September 13, 2020

Summary: Obi-Wan had spent his whole life keeping his species a secret, until the Clone Wars made that impossible.

Details: Sithspawn Stewjoni AU.

xxxxxx

Obi-Wan hadn't known what to expect from the clone medical staff--he'd seen how efficient the troopers were, he almost hoped that he'd be able to get in and out of medical without any fuss.

That, however, was not to be.

"General," the medic, who had finally introduced himself as Sleep, seemed baffled by something and Obi-Wan braced himself. "Your medical records require Council authorization."

"Ah."

His casual acknowledgement called more notice to them than he'd thought it would, the focused attention of so many similar people clawing at him in the Force.

It also didn't help Sleep's attitude and, from the bags under his eyes and the tell-tale sign of stim-caused tremors, Obi-Wan was beginning to understand the name was possibly an in-joke. "General, I can't treat you if I don't know even the basics about you. It's the entire file except your name and birth date! Even your gender is redacted!"

He shifted, glancing around them. Only clones.

Whatever that meant. As he still wasn't sure how he felt about Jango Fett creating a supposed army for the Republic.

Alpha-17 was there, shifting closer to them with his tell-tale scowl. Beyond him, a few other troopers lingered, ones that had been on the recent mission with them, back-up when no other Jedi, not even his Padawan, were available.

Thus, too, why Obi-Wan wasn't being seen by a Jedi healer who already knew about him.

They all felt safe. Alpha had certainly proven himself time and time again to Obi-Wan.

And if the war continued on as it was going, they would all find out sooner than later, regardless of how careful Obi-Wan was. Perhaps an early warning would garner him the troopers' help in hiding himself in plain sight.

"Do you know what a Stewjoni is?"

Sleep blinked at him, like a droid that had just rebooted, and then startled. "You...but...." His fingers flew across the datapad in his hand, most likely at whatever medical information he'd been able to collect from their own databases. "That would explain the copper levels," he finally allowed, seeming to fumble over his words.

Beside them, Alpha-17 let out a low string of curses in Mando'a, a few that even Obi-Wan didn't know. "That would have been good to know, General," he bit out the title, condescending. "Especially with how the Sith are always all over you."

"I apologize for the oversight, Alpha. It has never been necessary information for those who temporarily worked with me, before."

Obi-Wan needed the distraction from thinking about the Sith--the feel of them against his senses, the smooth Darkness that flowed out of them. His instincts were dulled by over three decades with the Jedi and still they were so, so hard to resist when he was injured and someone like Ventress was right there.

He still remembered the taste of the Sith on Naboo, his instincts tearing through him after watching the killing blow delivered to Qui-Gon, feeling their bond start to come undone. It had just been the slightest amount, enough that he'd come out of the encounter with not even a bruise, but it had made his food taste like ash for months after.

"What do I need to know, sir?" Sleep dragged his attention back from places he really shouldn't let it go.

With a sigh, he motioned for the datapad and reluctantly logged into his own medical profile, watching as two lines became a short lifetime of information. "This is full access, trooper. I expect you to be discreet."

Sleep nodded and, distracted as he was, barely said anything when Obi-Wan slipped from the room. It wasn't as though he had gone alone, Alpha-17 was at his back the whole walk to his own temporary bunk in Tipoca City.

"If you're looking for another apology, Alpha, I'm afraid one isn't coming."

That just earned him a snort, Alpha-17 closing the door behind him and standing in the private room like he was a common fixture and not a new oddity in Obi-Wan's life.

"Your blood was blue."

"Excuse me?"

"After Ohma D'un. I thought it was some trick of the weapon you'd been exposed to."

Obi-Wan licked his lips, glancing down at his wrists where carefully crafted tattoos gave the impression of near-human blood vessels under his light toned skin. "I have an implant," he said, finally, "that helps make my blood look red, or close enough. It had failed by the end." The added iron often made him feel sickly and he'd been almost glad that it wasn't working, with how much damage his body had taken.

"Do you need...accommodations?" When his answer was a raised eyebrow, Alpha-17 glowered and continued, "Like General Koon or General Fisto need. Environmental? Special rations?"

"Have I given any indication that I do?" Now it was Alpha-17's turn to give him a look. "It's not...you must understand, my people were manufactured. We're quite capable of living in very diverse environments and, when our preferred food is scarce, living off of nearly anything." He gave a wry grin. "Though, despite it all, I'll never be as fond of live insects as my Padawan is."

Alpha-17 grimaced, remembering a few particularly harsh campaigns where Anakin had become creative with additions to their GAR-issued rations. He remained silent for a few moments, clearly working through something serious, and Obi-Wan took the time to prepare some tea for them. The ritual of it, adopted from his own Master (who adopted it from Dooku, though Obi-Wan tried not to think of that), was comforting.

As much as he'd deny it, this was a nerve-wracking evening. The last time he'd revealed himself had been when he'd taken Anakin as his Padawan, needing the boy to understand the idiosyncrasies he might notice and the difference in emotions that would flow down their bond. Anakin had already been facing so many changes, and had such a unique perspective compared to the Core and Mid-Rim peoples that Obi-Wan normally encountered, that it had gone easily.

He wasn't sure how the clones would actually take the information, when they had time to process it. Obi-Wan was aware that how human he looked could often be unsettling to those who knew the truth. That his whole being could come across as a lie in itself.

"Are you holding back?" Alpha-17 asked into the silence, after Obi-Wan served him tea in a delicate cup, as if sensing his thought process.

"What do you mean?"

"During our fights. Are you holding back because you're...hiding."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard with one hand, the fingers of the other tapping against his cup. "I suppose, if you wanted to be fully accurate, I am. But it's not because I worried you would find out," he hurried to add, "it is because if I were to stop...it would be very difficult to come back from that."

"What does that mean? You would...go feral?"

He coughed out his sip of tea, trying not to laugh. "No, Force, what sort of odd fictions are you troopers reading?" Alpha-17 had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I could far more easily take on someone like Ventress or even Dooku himself if I used my...natural abilities. However, I do not know if I could stop myself from...feeding from their essences. Which in turn would kickstart a healing process in my body that could very well reverse all the very extensive, and expensive, surgeries I have had over the years and possibly get the Order in trouble for harboring such a dangerous creature as I."

"Right. Because...you don't really look like this."

"Is that a problem, trooper?"

Alpha-17 regarded him and Obi-Wan was confused by the weight of the hurt settling within him at the hesitation. "No, General. I can't say I'm not curious about what you'd really look like, but it's no problem from me." He scowled. "I'm not some longneck who is going to judge you for not being exactly what I was expecting."

***

Sleep died in an explosion four months later. Alpha-17 disappeared into Tipoca City to train ARC troopers after severe injuries towards the end of the first year of the war. The others who new were picked off here and there, the rate of survival for the troopers worryingly low.

Obi-Wan told the medics of the 212th, when he was finally assigned to them, but he did not tell anyone else. The longer he went without doing so, the less he felt like he could.

It was Ventress who told Cody, taking great delight in stroking the scars along Obi-Wan's exposed back as his vulnerable Commander struggled against his bonds. She had a thing for stripping clones that Obi-Wan didn't like, anymore than he liked how she kept chaining him up whenever she caught him.

"He's a pretty thing, isn't he?" she cooed at Cody, carding a hand through Obi-Wan's sweaty hair. "But...why? Isn't it odd, Commander, how he seems to be nearly everyone's type?" Her smirk was self-satisfied and Obi-Wan wanted to kick it off her face. "As if he were...made...to appeal to people, regardless of their species."

Cody just seemed confused, at least at first. What he might have said was lost behind the gag that Obi-Wan found himself more and more thankful for as Ventress continued, pointing out the marks of his surgeries. Where his spines down to their very base had been dug out, where his eyes had been capped over with lenses, where his ears had been cut down and reshaped.

When she stripped down his lower body and gave Cody a view, the anger and distress coming from the clone had sharpened into rage.

As soon as they were free, it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep Cody from beating Ventress to death with his bare hands. Which was...more flattering than he wanted to admit.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Commander," he said, as they settled into the command center of the ship they were now alone on and waited for their rescue.

Cody stared at him. "Sir, that's private information. As long as the medics knew, that's all that I would expect from you."

"Truly? You're not...unnerved?"

The answer was a shrug and what might have been the beginnings of a blush, Cody's shields once more impeccable enough that Obi-Wan couldn't actually tell his feelings in the Force. "I admit it...answered a few questions I had...but it's none of my business."

"Questions about my attractiveness?" he supplied, remembering Ventress using that as a starting point.

"You do, uh, seem to garner a lot of...cross-species interest, General."

Obi-Wan gave a gentle smile, an expression he'd practiced as a youth after noticing how the humans around him responded to it from others.

"My people weren't originally created by the Sith, like every other species of what are called 'Sithspawn' they took us and twisted us to their purposes. Sith Flesh Alchemy allows for otherwise incompatible species to breed, so that they can adopt attributes the Alchemists thought would be useful." His smile turned wry, an expression that felt more natural on his face these days. "I am attractive to so many species because I was genetically engineered to be so. The closest translation into Basic for 'Stewjoni' is 'Siren,' if you know any old Aldeeranian myths."

That got Cody's attention. "You had me read those. I thought it was just...entertainment."

"Ah, you've caught me, my dear. They're not accurate per se--as you can tell, my people no longer spend much time in the water--but they serve as warnings."

"You thought we needed a warning about you? Sir, we know you would never--"

He held up a hand, stopping whatever Cody was about to say. "When Sith are involved, Cody, when they've created you, in a way, you can never be fully trustworthy. There's always the chance that somehow, someway, they still have their grip on you."

His kind weren't prone to nightmares, but everyone he'd had since the war had started was the same--Dooku's shadowy Master finding a way to turn him on his people, on his troops, with little more than the properly worded phrase.

Cody watched him, sadness seeping out from his shields. "General...Obi-Wan...just because those demagolka changed your people somehow...that doesn't mean you're monsters."

"Not just monsters, perhaps."

***

Obi-Wan was not capable of hate, not in the way most species felt it. He knew what it was, knew what it felt like rubbing against him in the Force like a tamed tooka, what it tasted like flooding him as he sipped from a Sith opponent, but he didn't feel it.

If he could, he was almost certain that he would have fallen sometime between being shot at by his suddenly blank-feeling troopers, hearing from Yoda of how most of the Council had confronted Palpatine--Sidious, and having to watch the recording of Anakin slaughtering his way through the Temple.

"You went hunting a Sith without me?" the hiss in his words was the only sign of his emotional turmoil and he tightened his hands and tried to get himself together.

How many of his colleagues--his friends--would still be alive if they had waited?

“Important, it was, to strike quickly.” Yoda’s ears were tucked closely to his head, his shoulders slumped, but Obi-Wan had little sympathy. “The Will of the Force, to act.”

“To act without thinking, to rush headlong against a Sith powerful enough to hide from all of us,” he shot back.

Obi-Wan had known--had accepted--that a war against the Sith would mean exposing himself fully by the end. He’d even imagined that it might end up being against the hidden Sith Master, had looked into ways of reversing some of the procedures he’d gone through--at the very least for claws and teeth, and venom--and none of that mattered, apparently.

He didn’t think he could take Sidious by himself, not when the man would be prepared for attacks and surely knew what he was.

If they’d waited until Obi-Wan had returned, he could have given them the upperhand. “I sincerely doubt the ‘Will of the Force’ wanted the Jedi slaughtered,” he muttered, finally, starting off into the catacombs they hid in.

“Go to face Sidious, do you?”

“No, I’m going to find Anakin. There’s nothing we can do against Sidious, not right now.”

***

The first place he thought to look was with Padme. How many times had he and she played a game of pretending he didn’t know Anakin had spent the night there? How many times had he taken up the role of possible illicit paramore to draw attention from her closeness with Anakin?

She was near-panic, clouding the Force with her strong emotions, but she understood what they needed to do. If Anakin was caught in a torrent of the Darkside, they’d need to be very careful in talking him down.

“If we can’t reach him...will you kill him?” Her hands clutched her rounded belly, as though the children within could understand the conversation and needed comfort.

Obi-Wan took long breaths, staring down at Mustafar as the ship approached. The whole planet was rife with the Dark, making his instincts claw at the back of his mind. But it was Anakin he felt most strongly, the blazing sun of his Force present nothing but rage and fear, now.

“If we can’t reach him, that means it’s not Anakin anymore. We don’t know what Sidious did to him to get him to this point.” His hands clenched, imagining some of the stories his people shared of Sith crimes. “There might just...be nothing left of him.”

He was upsetting her, perhaps unnecessarily, but he needed her to know. Needed her to be prepared.

“Your children must be your priority, Padme. It’s what he would have thought, too.” They stared into each other’s eyes, her trying hard not to flinch away from him.

Outside, the volcanic air was harsh enough that Obi-Wan worried for her health--and Anakin's. The Force could do much, but if he wasn't careful, Anakin would ruin his lungs. He'd always been so reckless with his own body.

xxxxxx

A/N: This got a little too long to just be shoved in my drabble collection (where you'll find some other stuff using the same headcanons) so I decided to make it it's own work, even though I rewrote the ending like six times over the last few weeks.

This post has everything so far about my headcanon, but in short: Stewjoni were originally sentient predators that fed off of Force users in particular and when the fallen Jedi alchemists met up with the Sith and found out about them, they experimented on them and made them into basically Sith hunting pets.

The very original idea was because I really can't stand Stewjoni (considering it was a joke that Lucas refused to back down on) and "Stewjon is Space Scotland," and there's this Scottish legend called a "baobhan sith" that's like a siren.

Sleep is one of my clone OCs.

#character: obi wan kenobi #character: alpha 17 #ship: alpha 17 & obi wan #character: cody #ship: cody & obi wan #ship: anakin & obi wan #character: yoda #character: padme amidala #ship: padme & obi wan #theme: clone wars #theme: order 66 #theme: dark #verse: sithspawn stewjoni

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lyssismagical · 5 years ago

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what is and what should never be

Whumptober Day 18 & 20. Muffled Scream/Trembling

Read on AO3

{Based on Supernatural Episode: What is and What Should Never Be (2x20)}

Peter jolts awake, heart already racing. The last thing he remembers is a flash of blue and then everything had gone dark.

The room around him is dimly lit, the beginnings of a sunrise peeking out from behind half-closed curtains. He’s lying in a comfortable bed, thick blankets tucked loosely around his body with just enough slack to not feel like he’s suffocating.

He pushes himself up, carefully cataloguing the room.

It’s obviously a bedroom. Probably meant for a teenage boy with the generic décor.

A messy desk, covered in homework and stacked with textbooks and novels. A few mason jars stuffed with pencils and pens. A dresser, a few drawers open with clothes folded inside. The nightstand has a lamp that he flicks on, casting shadows around the room.

It looks like someone’s lived here recently, but Peter’s never seen the room in his life.

And then he sees the framed photo on the desk.

He nearly falls in his rush to get to his desk, collapsing in the chair and picking up the photo.

It’s a picture of him. He looks twelve, maybe thirteen in the picture. He’s grinning from ear to ear, looking happier than ever.

But the weird part is who he’s standing with. His parents, Mary and Richard, stand on either side of him, looking older than when he ever knew them, but they’re their in the photo, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Mary’s pressing a kiss to his temple and Richard’s looks like he’s laughing. Younger Peter in the middle looks happy, cheeks still chubby and reddened, smile stretching wide over his features, eyes sparkling in the flash of the camera.

The breath is torn from his lungs.

The photo falls from his grip and hits the edge of the desk, shattering on impact.

“Peter?” A woman’s voice calls out gently. She doesn’t sound like May. “You okay in there?”

He stumbles up from the chair, looking around the room for any other signs of something wrong.

Out his window there’s the Golden Gate Bridge. The pages on his desk are all signed with his name. There’s a Tony Stark poster on his wall.

“Peter?” There’s a soft knock on his door and it opens a little bit. “Are you okay?”

He turns quickly, heart racing faster than he thinks is healthy, and his breath hitches.

Mary Parker.

She’s just as beautiful as she was in the pictures Peter saw of her. Her hair’s down to her shoulders, a soft auburn color that brings out some color in her pale face. She’s got a caring smile on her face, worry clouding her brown eyes.

She’s beautiful and alive and standing right across from Peter.

“Mom?” he breathes, taking a slow step towards her. He doesn’t know if this is real. If this is a dream. If this is a trick.

She tips her head to the side, confusion clouding her expression, but her smile doesn’t drop. “Yeah, honey? You alright? You’re looking really pale.”

“Mom,” he says again. The word is almost foreign to his mouth. He hasn’t seen her in over a decade. It’s been years since he lost her and now she’s here and alive and he doesn’t care if this is a trick.

He falls into her arms, hands clutching at her back as he tucks his head against her shoulder, wanting to cry. She’s here. His mom is here. He missed her so much.

She wraps her arms around his back, cradling him gently against her, and she lets out a sigh.

“I’m here, baby. You’re okay. Did you have a nightmare?” she asks against his hair.

He wants to say that the last ten years have been a nightmare and he’s finally waking up. But he pushes it down. He won’t tell her or else it might crumble.

“I’m okay,” he says instead. He closes his eyes, hugging her tighter, breathing in the smell of home. “I just… I just got scared for a second. I’m okay.”

She pulls away a little bit, enough to cradle his face in her calloused palms. She’s smiling at him, expression open and loving, and it takes all of Peter’s willpower to refrain from hugging her for the rest of eternity.

“C’mon, your dad’s making pancakes,” she says, nodding her head towards the door. “If we hurry, we can sneak some chocolate chips into the batter!”

He sits at the kitchen table, trying to act casual and nonchalant, like he’s meant to be there.

There’s a giant glass door leading out to a patio facing the ocean. The Golden Gate Bridge is practically right outside their backdoor.

He’s living with his parents in California.

Holy fuck, he’s living with his parents in California.

“You sure you’re alright?” his dad asks, carrying the stack of pancakes to the table. He looks a little rougher around the edges than Peter can remember from his blurry childhood memories and the stories he was told.

He’s got curly brown hair like Peter’s, messy and unkempt, a pair of glasses askew on his nose, an almost wild look behind his eyes like he’s ready for the next Big Idea. The kind of look he’s seen in Tony’s eyes thousandth of times-

Holy shit, Tony.

“I’ve gotta- Could I call someone? I’ll be quick,” he says, barely catching himself from knocking over his chair in his haste to stand.

His mom (his actual fucking mom-) nods with a pointed look. “Don’t be long or your breakfast will get cold.”

He nods quickly and races back towards where he remembers his bedroom to be. It only takes a few moments of tearing his room apart to find his phone underneath his pillow. It’s not the phone he had before, but it turns on when he opens it and he has Tony’s number memorized.

“This is Stark. You shouldn’t have this number. Don’t call back,” the message tone says, making Peter’s face fall.

How much is different?

He calls again, but to no avail, so he tries the next best thing.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is going to sound crazy, but-”

“Who is this?” Pepper asks, a little bit too unkindly to sound like her. “I don’t have the time for prank calls or-”

His hands are shaking. “This is Peter. Peter Parker, ma’am. And I need to talk to Tony. ASAP. Please, I-”

She sighs softly. “Listen, kid, as much as I’d love to hand you over to the him, neither of us have the time to answer every single phone call from fans. So, please don’t call this number again. You shouldn’t have it in the first place.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but is met with the telltale beeping of an ended phone call. He only has one more option he can think of.

“What do you want?”

“Happy, please-”

The call ends.

Breakfast is too long and his leg won’t stop bouncing under the table and his hands shake where they clench the utensils.

He excuses himself to his room as soon as he can manage without sounding suspicious and he immediately hops into researching.

There’s plenty of search results when he types in Tony Stark, but one thing that’s missing entirely is Iron Man.

There’s all of the articles about Tony getting kidnapped, taken to Afghanistan, but apparently, Rhodey was the one who rescued him. No arc reactor, no super suit, no Iron Man.

Obadiah was still found out, but it went down in a humane way. A court case, a trial, and Obadiah went to the prison.

Tony handed the company over to Pepper who transformed it into the reusable energy and environmentally friendly company it is now, with Tony working in the background as the engineer. Apparently, Tony pretty much went MIA after that. No more press conferences, a few paparazzi pictures here and there, but nothing that stands out.

Until last year, when Pepper and Tony got married.

It was all over the press after Pepper flashed an engagement ring at a press conference and then she shared pictures online of their small wedding.

So, Tony and Pepper are married.

A little more digging and he finds out Steve Rogers died in the plane crash, Bucky died when he fell from the train.

Which means, no Iron Man, no Captain America, no Avengers…

There’s nothing on the internet about any of the other Avengers, meaning none of it ever happened. Loki never came to Earth, The Winter Soldier was never created which means Tony’s parents were never killed, they just retired, Ultron was never invented. Nothing.

That’s great and all, Peter’s beyond happy for Tony and how great his life went, but… if there’s no Avengers…

And then, the worst.

He tries to stick to the pencil and it falls from his grip. He tries to bend the chair leg, but it doesn’t give like it would’ve before. He tries to hear anything outside his room, but he can’t strain his ears hard enough.

He’s not Spider-Man.

He tries a few more times to call Tony’s phone number, and after a second time calling Happy, Peter’s number is blocked, but, surprisingly, Pepper picks up again.

“Kid, I told you the first time, I’m running a multibillion-dollar company, unfortunately, I don’t have the time-”

“You’re allergic to strawberries,” he blurts. “And you hate the color green, your favourite is purple, like a lavender color. You got the nickname Pepper after you pepper-sprayed someone in the face right before your job interview for Tony, and he thought it was the funniest thing in the world.”

Pepper stays quiet, so Peter forges ahead, “When you were a kid, you were in the foster system and when you turned sixteen, you started living in an apartment with a bunch of girls you hated.

“You went to University to become a school teacher. You wanted to teach second graders, but your prof told you to go into high school teaching, but when you tried to apply for jobs as a high school teacher, you couldn’t get any because you had a criminal record, so you started working as a secretary nearby Tony’s place in Malibu. He saw you at a coffee shop and he knew he needed you to work for him, so you got your job as Tony’s PA.”

“How do you know that?” Pepper asks quietly. “Who are you?”

“I’m Peter Parker,” he repeats, pacing his room anxiously. “I’m seventeen. And I know it sounds really fucking crazy, but I know you and I know Tony, but not here. Not now. I don’t know what’s going on, but everything’s wrong.”

She sighs. “Obviously, you’ve done your research, kid, and I get Tony’s famous and all that, but-”

“You don’t believe me,” he says. He grits his teeth and pushes down the urge to punch something. “Fine, whatever. You know what, it’s fine. Thanks for your time.”

He hangs up the phone and chucks it at his bed, watching it bounce harmlessly onto the pillows. He doesn’t know what to do.

He tries his best to act nonchalant throughout the day, playing along with the questions he’s asked and the conversations his parents hold.

It’s nice. He’s happy. He enjoys that they’re here and that they’re alive and he loves all of it. Whatever that magician had done to him earlier, it had granted a wonderful wish. That his parents had never died.

And he sees pictures of May and Ben and a set of twins who he finds out are his cousins. In his real life, he never had cousins. After his parents died, May and Ben wanted to support Peter financially and emotionally, and never really felt they could have other kids. And then Ben had died…

Which means, wherever he is, May and Ben are still alive, they’re happy and they have children and they live nearby in LA where Ben works for the LAPD and May works as a maternity nurse. Their kids are eight-years-old, a girl and boy.

It’s apparently Summer Break, Peter finds out when he snoops through his desk. He’s going to a high-class school and he skipped grade seven. He’s on the Debate Team and he has a bunch of photos with strangers above his desk.

It’s… It’s a dream life.

Even Tony seems happy according to the internet. He never had to go through the sudden loss of both his parents in that car accident. His father died that year, but it was of a stroke. Peacefully. And his mom was able to put him on a decent track by the age of twenty.

The whole Obadiah thing happened and Afghanistan, but Tony doesn’t have nearly as much trauma as he had in the Other Life. No wormholes or open heart surgery or near death experiences or almost losing his loved ones on numerous occasions.

It took him half as many years to marry the love of his life. If he’s right, Morgan might even already be alive, but not to the knowledge of the public. Tony’s happy, just doesn’t know Peter.

It’s a huge price to pay, but Peter’s always been paying prices for other people’s happiness.

To Tony, Peter’s sacrifice will mean nothing.

Peter could just move on. Live here with his family, adjust to life in California. Without Tony, and Tony would never know.

Unless…

Unless this is really all just a trick.

If it is, would he care? Would he give all of this up?

He curls up against his Mom’s side, legs over hers and feet tucked underneath his dad’s legs to keep them warm. They’re sharing a quilt across their legs as Star Wars plays on the TV. A bowl of leftover popcorn is on the coffee table along with their empty mugs for hot chocolate.

“Can May and Ben come over?” he asks out of the blue. He wants to meet his cousins. He wants to see Ben, alive and well. He wants to see May without the weight of the world on her shoulders. “We could have a barbecue.”

He doesn’t understand the perplexed look on his dad’s face.

“Why?” he asks slowly. “You know me and Ben don’t talk anymore.”

“You don’t-” He cuts himself off quickly. “Of course, I know. I would know that… Don’t you want to, I don’t know, reconcile? I mean, it’s summer break. Barbecues and swimming and hanging out. It would be fun.”

His mom, gently smoothing his hair out of his face, shakes her head. “Sorry, kiddo, it’s not going to happen. It can’t. We can see about babysitting your cousins for a weekend or something, but it’s not really up to us.”

He drops the subject quickly. He wants that, but he doesn’t know how much leeway he has with rocking the boat. He doesn’t know how stable this hallucination or alternate reality or whatever it may be, is.

As much as he wants to see them, he knows they’re safe and it’s just another price to pay on his part for their happiness.

He tries to sleep that night, but he tosses and turns endlessly, until eventually, he gives up.

He pulls on a t-shirt and heads out into the warm night.

San Francisco is bright and loud even in the dead of night, at least the area they live in. Lights are on, cars are driving, people are chattering, music is booming out of someone’s backyard.

It’s homey, even. He’s used to this kind of thing, only maybe a little dirtier out in Queens. He used to walk people home from parties all night back home as Spider-Man.

He wonders, in this life, if any of those people didn’t get home safe because there was never a Spider-Man. He wonders if those muggers, rapists, murderers, criminals, are all still walking the streets because he was never handed the opportunity to stop them.

Just because there were no big threats like Loki or Chitauri or Thanos, doesn’t mean the world was safe.

He tries Pepper’s cell again, despite knowing she lives in the safe timezone and would definitely be asleep long past now, and unsurprisingly, nobody picks up. He hangs up before he can hear her voicemail.

He tries Tony too, again, just in case.

And it rings and rings and rings, and Peter’s ready to give up, when,

“Hello?”

Tony’s voice is crackly and rough like he just woke up, but it’s warm and familiar and it’s all Peter’s been wishing for.

“Mister Stark?” he asks like he hasn’t memorized his voice. “I- I need-”

“Who is this?” Tony asks. He hasn’t hung up which is a good sign, but fuck, the words hit hard.

Peter sits down on a bench at a deserted bus stop, a few blocks from his house. His hands are shaking and he bunches up his sweatpants in his fist to stop the trembling.

“I- I’m Peter, sir, Peter Parker. And I know you don’t know me, but I- I know you. From another life, I guess, and I know I sound crazy, but I-”

Tony cuts him off, “I don’t understand. What? Another life? Listen, it’s one in the morning, you shouldn’t even have this number-”

“Mister Stark, please, I-” He pauses to clear his throat, rubbing his eyes in frustration at the tears that threaten to spill. “I need help. I don’t know what to do and I- I know you don’t understand, but something’s really wrong. And I- I just don’t know what to do. I-”

“Okay, kid, take a deep breath,” Tony says, just as soft as Peter can remember from his Real Life. “I need you to start from scratch, alright? Can you do that for me? If you can go through all the impossible trouble of finding my number, I can try my best to lend you a hand.”

It’s weird how little paranoia Tony has in this place. Without all of the shit that happened to him in the Real Life, Tony’s just a normal person.

“I was fighting a wizard, right? Back in Queens. You were on your way as backup. I called you for once in my life because I couldn’t do it on my own,” Peter explains. “And then I woke up here. In San Francisco, without powers, without you. With my parents who died over a decade ago.”

Tony takes a deep breath.

“Alright,” he says. “Right, okay, I’m not going to pretend I understand what you’re talking about, but how about this, kid, I’ll come visit you in the morning and we can work this out, alright? Whether that means paying for a psychiatrist visit or something bigger.”

“I’m not crazy,” Peter says quickly, sniffling. He hates how childish he sounds, but he’s scared. What if Real Tony is in the Real Life looking for Peter? What if Peter’s dead? What if this is meant to be Peter’s heaven? He doesn’t know.

“No, of course not, kid.”

They meet at Starbucks the next morning, Peter telling his parents he’s meeting a friend.

Tony’s wearing the same go to disguise he always wore in the Real Life, baseball cap and sunglasses along with an average outfit.

“Start from scratch,” Tony starts, passing a hot chocolate to Peter. “You know me but I know you, which isn’t that crazy for a famous person.”

“No, like I actually knew you,” Peter says, yawning. He barely slept last night, tossing and turning endlessly.

“Right…” Tony says. “Tell me something only you would know then.”

Peter takes a sip of his drink. “It’s more complicated than that. This, whatever this is, is different than my life. Where I lived, you were a superhero. We both were, that’s why I knew you. But here, that never happened. That’s why I’m- I’m confused.”

“Okay, but find something. There must be something that still happened through both lives. You told my wife a shit ton of stuff nobody’s supposed to be able to access.”

“Alright, um, at MIT with Mister Rhodey, you used to go to his family’s house in Pennsylvania for holidays because you didn’t want to go home. You and your parents were never that close. And Mister Rhodey’s mom may as well have adopted you. She just started expecting you to go,” Peter says.

He pauses, trying to remember the story to the exact. “One Christmas, there was a really shitty snowstorm in Massachusetts and Mister Rhodey had left a few days ahead of you because you had an overdo assignment to submit. You made it halfway there before realizing how bad the roads had gotten so you stopped at a hotel and waited for it to blow over. Mister Rhodey’s mom felt so bad when she found out you couldn’t make it because of the weather, she postponed the entire holiday by three days so you could celebrate it with them.”

Peter looks up from where his eyes had been trained to the table to find Tony watching him with a half-frightened, half-excited expression.

“What do you think, then?” Tony asks, quickly elaborating. “What do you think this place is? Some sort of utopia? Multiverse? What?”

Peter frowns. “I don’t know… It seems too good to be true, you know. You’re happy. My parents and uncle are still alive. I’m happy. That’s about as utopian as you can get.”

Taking a long sip from his drink, it’s hard for Peter to imagine how he could go back. Even if he knew how.

How could he possibly leave this life behind?

His family is here. He has Tony back. There’s no way they could bounce back to strangers after this.

If Peter had to go back… He’d have to say goodbye to his parents, Uncle Ben, blissful peace, and Tony’s happiness.

How he could do that?

Isn’t he allowed to be selfish for once in his life?

“So, I was a superhero?” Tony asks, pulling off his sunglasses. His eyes are practically sparkling with his excitement. “A real-life superhero?”

Peter flinches. He swallows hard, not knowing how to explain it.

“You were… But it wasn’t good,” he says slowly. He doesn’t want to tell this Tony everything that Peter’s Tony went through. “Anyway, what am I supposed to do?”

“And there’s the million dollar question!” Tony exclaims, clapping his hands.

(Tony’s drinking hot chocolate something that seems so small but a huge distinction to the Tony Peter knows. Not this Tony. Peter doesn’t know the man sitting across from him, without a coffee in his hand, wrists watchless, legs unbouncing, fingers still. Not the Tony Peter knows. A happy, carefree version, unriddled with anxiety or PTSD or depression. A stranger but a happy stranger.)

“And the answer?”

Tony grins. “That’s the fun of it. There is no answer.”

Peter can’t stay for very much longer, but Tony promises to keep in touch. His advice is just live your life, kid. If you’re happy, you’re happy, right?

Peter hates that advice.

He can’t just live his life in whatever place this is because he doesn’t even know if it’s real.

On his way home, he passes a store where the news is playing on the TV.

“In other news,” the man says, voice crackling over the speakers. “It’s been exactly three years since the deaths of over a dozen elementary students after a major bus crash on their way to school one morning.”

“No,” Peter breathes, shoving his way into the store to get closer to the TV. He stopped that bus crash. He saved every single one of those students. They even made it to school on time. He saved them all.

“As well as those fifteen students, Midtown is commemorating the lives of the eighteen people lost after the building collapse last year,” the news anchor continues.

Peter remembers that one too. He’d almost been too late, but he got everyone out of the building. He ended up trapped under the burning building and he’d called Tony in a panic, begging to be saved. All he could think about was Toomes and getting trapped under the warehouse. Tony had arrived and gotten him out in less than half an hour and Peter only had a mild concussion and a dislocated shoulder.

But if Spider-Man wasn’t there to save any of them…

Everyone’s gone.

Every person that Spider-Man saved, that he saved, they’re all gone.

Peter runs home.

He shoves past people and ignores his aching lungs and the tears that start rushing down his cheeks like a waterfall.

He sprints until he makes it to the safety of his home, shutting the door loudly behind him before collapsing to his knees, sobs and coughs wracking his body.

Cinnamon and Roses indicate the arrival of his mom, hands soothing and warm over his face and shoulders, and gently nudging a rescue inhaler into his mouth, counting breaths for him. The spider bite had cured his asthma.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks quietly once he’s stopped coughing and has settled into wheezy sobs. “What happened?”

He shakes his head, collapsing into her awaiting arms. He can’t tell her.

“Oh, honey,” she murmurs, kissing his head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk. I’ve got you.”

And so they sit, in the front entrance, rescue inhaler abandoned on the floor next to them, teenager’s body wracking with sobs, mother unknowing and in the dark struggling to comfort him.

There’s nothing she can do to soothe his grief.

“Why me?” he shouts, voice hoarse after spending the night crying against his mom’s shoulder. He’s standing out on the beach, glaring out at the open sea.

“Why me?” he chucks a rock at the water, angry and grieving. “Why does it have to me? Why do I have to be the one to save everyone? Don’t I deserve to just be a kid?”

“I’m sorry.”

Peter spins around, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. Doctor Strange stands there, portal glowing orange behind him.

“What- Why-”

“I don’t have much time,” he says. “And at the end, it is your decision, but this isn’t what you believe it to be. You are dying. It will feel like an eternity in your utopia, but in your life, you’ll die in a few days’ time.”

Peter wipes at his tears, wishing he felt strong and brave like a superhero, but the tears keep pouring.

“I don’t understand,” he says, voice breaking.

Strange’s face falls just a fraction. “I don’t have much time, but the wizard did this to you. You are trapped outside of your body. Your body is dying.”

“I’m dying?” he repeats. He feels muddled and dazed. “I don’t-”

“Child, this is the wizard’s doing. You can choose to stay and live forever here, or you can wake yourself up and rejoin your body in your real life,” Strange explains. The portal’s flickering behind him. “I’m running out of time. It’s up to you. I can’t help you.”

“How do I wake up?” He stumbles forward, but even Strange is flickering. “How do I-”

He reaches out to him, but then it’s only air and he falls forward into the sand.

Covering his face with his hands, sprawled in the sand in the middle of the night, feeling more alone than he ever has, he screams.

His scream, agonized and angry and grieving the losses he could’ve prevented, is muffled by his hands and covered up by the loud music playing from a house a little ways down the streets.

He screams and when his breath runs out, he cries, wishing he had more options.

Stay here and live out eternity, leaving behind everyone in his Real Life, or to go home.

There’s no in between, no third choices, no time to make a decision. A few days’ time and he can’t risk spending too long and have the decision made for him. And he doesn’t even know how to get back.

He turns onto his back, waves crashing a few feet away from him and moon smiling down at him mockingly.

“Why me?” he demands, tears running into his hair. “Why does it have to be me? Why can’t I make the selfish decision to stay here? Why am I not allowed to be happy?”

The moon doesn’t reply. Not like he thought it would.

“What? Mom and Dad aren’t allowed to live their life? Uncle Ben isn’t? May and Ben aren’t allowed to have kids and be happy? Tony isn’t allowed to be happy? Why do I have to sacrifice everything? Why do I have to be some kind of hero?!”

“I have to go,” Peter says. He’s standing at the front door, hand on the knob. Tony’s waiting out front for him.

“Where are you going, honey?” his mom asks, gently cupping his cheek. “Is everything okay? You know we love you.”

His dad stands beside her, features soft. “We really do love you, kiddo. You can talk to us about anything, okay? Just stay safe out there.”

He pulls them into a hug, holding them as close as he can.

There’s so much he wants to say.

He’s never going to see them again. Ever.

“I love you too.”

His mom kisses his hair and his dad squeezes his shoulder, and they both hold him close, and Peter wishes more than anything that he could stay here for just one more night.

But if he doesn’t leave now, he never will.

So he pulls away, scrubbing at the tears on his face and smiles at them.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” he says, trying his best to throw on a brave face.

He doesn’t wait for a response, yanking the door open and refusing to turn back as he walks down the driveway to Tony’s awaiting car.

If he looked back, he’s scared he would’ve ran right back to them and let himself have this. He can’t.

He slides into passenger seat, barely looking at Tony. “LA, please.”

Tony doesn’t force much conversation on the drive to LA. It’s meant to take about five hours, but Tony makes it in about three and a half.

If there’s one thing that’s carried through, it’s the ACDC and Led Zeppelin he plays on the drive, turning it up nice and loud in his fancy car. He occasionally asks questions that Peter gives half-assed answers to or tells stories about his life now.

But otherwise, the only noise, is the air conditioner and the engine.

Tony stays in the car while Peter knocks on the door.

He needs to say one more goodbye.

The door opens and he’s met with the squinty-eyed stare of a man he hasn’t seen in so long.

“Ben,” he breathes.

“Peter?” his uncle ben says, confusion creasing his face. “It’s six in the morning, what are you doing all the way out here?”

His twin cousins are just inside the house sitting on the couch playing a videogame. They’re both giggling and shoving and teasing. They’re cute and they look more like May than Peter ever did.

“I, uh, I just wanted to see you. I can’t stay long, just wanted to check in while I was around, you know?” he says, trying his best not to cry.

The last time he saw Ben…

(Blood and tears. The gunshot like an explosion. His shaking hands desperately pushing against the room, begging for help but nobody would. The police officers pulling him away, taking him home to May, covered in blood and with the worst news.)

He can hear May in the background, humming along to an old song in the kitchen.

It’s the picture perfect life they always dreamed off.

“In the area?” Ben repeats in confusion. “What-”

“I should really get going. I just- I love you, okay? And I know my dad’s a stubborn man, but he loves you too, and so does my mom. You’re family, you know?” he says quickly, chin wobbling.

Ben’s face falls. “Yeah, of course, Peter. I love you too. You know we all do. And you’re always welcome.”

Peter can’t help himself from pulling Ben into a hug, pushing all of his energy into keeping the tears at bay.

“Goodbye,” he whispers against Ben’s shirt. He pulls away quickly, offering a smile, before turning and heading back to the car.

He tells Tony to pull off the road at a beach.

“Stay here,” he says, “Please.”

Tony looks uncertain but he nods and he doesn’t follow Peter when he gets out of the car and heads towards the ocean.

It’s an old wives tale. But Peter’s banking on it working.

He took a knife from his house in San Francisco, he’s going back to his Real Life. Back to his body as Strange put it.

Stopping right at the edge of the water, he slips the knife out of his backpack and faces away from the car.

He needs to do this. As much as he wishes he could live out the rest of his life in this utopia, he can’t. He has to go back home to Tony and May, and the shitty life he leads back there. He needs to be a hero. A selfless hero. He doesn’t have a choice.

He can hear Tony getting out of the car. He can hear the voices of the people he’s leaving filling his head.

(“You could live here forever, my child,” his mother says. “Me, you, and your dad. The life you always wanted. The family you need. All of us together.”

“You’re all alone out there, Peter,” his dad continues. “You don’t have anyone waiting for you. Everyone leaves you, have you noticed? But we won’t. We’ll be here forever. We won’t leave you.”

“Stay with us here, Peter,” Ben says, a chorus of yeses from the twins. “I’ve got everything I dreamed of having. You killed me in the real world, you made a different choice here. You don’t have to live with that guilt.”

“I’m no longer burdened with you. I’ve got Ben and the twins. I’m happy here, Peter. Isn’t that what you always wanted?” May continues. “Out there, I could finally be happy.”

“Come on, Peter. Stay with us here,” Tony says. He’s right there. Right in front of him. Smiling and offering a hand. “Stay here with us. You don’t need to go home. A lifetime in your utopia. Isn’t that all you could dream of?” )

Peter smiles at his family, the family he always dreamed of, the life he wished to have, and stabs himself in the stomach.

He jolts awake, gasping for air, scrambling at his stomach for the stab wound, but his hands are dry. No blood. No wound.

Immediately, there are hands on his face, on his shoulders, May in front of him and Tony at his side, and Peter breaks.

He falls into May’s embrace, grabbing at Tony’s arm like it’s a lifeline, hands tremblingly grasping the fabric of his hoodie, and tears staining May’s shirt.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I-” he tries to say, but he’s crying and his chest feels like it’s splitting open and all he can think is that he almost made the wrong choice.

They’re both trying to reassure him, gently and softly just like they always do, but he misses his mom and his dad and uncle ben.

They soothe him through his tears until he’s too tired to cry anymore, sitting in a hospital bed with the last of his family.

“It was… It was everything,” he tells them. “My parents never died. You weren’t Iron Man. I wasn’t Spider-Man. Ben never died, you had twins. It was- Everyone was so happy. Everything was what it should’ve been, but it- it wasn’t-”

“It wasn’t real,” Tony murmurs, smoothing Peter’s hair back.

“But I wanted to stay,” he whispers. “I wanted to be selfish and stay. It’s just- It’s too much.”

May sighs softly. “You’ve been through a lot, honey, but it’s worth it, isn’t it? You wouldn’t be the person you are today if you hadn’t. And all those people? You’ve saved millions. It’s worth it. And one day, you’ll get your own happy ending.”

“I wanted to stay,” he repeats. “It’s not fair.”

“I don’t know what’s worth, Bambi, but I’m glad you chose this. I’m happy you’re alive. Most people wouldn’t have.”

Peter shrugs, rubbing his eyes. “Well, couldn’t have you two living a peaceful life, could I? What would you do without me giving you heart attacks every week?”

They both smile, smiles that show there will be a long recovery to this. That this can’t just be washed away with bad jokes and repression. That this isn’t something Peter can ignore or move on from immediately.

But that’s okay.

“I love you,” he says. Right now, that’s all that matters. He doesn’t have his mom or his dad or his Uncle Ben, but millions of other people got to go home to their families because of him. He has May and Tony, and right now, he has to hang onto that.

“We love you too.”

They all squish into the hospital bed together and Peter falls asleep feeling heavy with grief, but safe and less alone than he did the whole time he was in that other world.

The other Tony may have had a much more peaceful life and been happy, but this Tony is happy too. Peter can tell he’s happy, carding his fingers through the teenager’s messy curls and pressing a kiss to his temple.

And May’s smiling, tucking the blankets up around them, making sure Peter’s comfy. She might not have gotten the life she expected, but she’s happy.

The job, the superhero gig requires sacrifices.

And Peter made the biggest one he’s ever made. He gave up utopia for this shitty life.

But it’s worth it.

Tucked between Tony and May, he decides it’s worth it.

Ben, Mary, and Richard would be proud of him.

It’s worth it. He made the right choice.

#whumptober2019 #no.18 #no.20 #muffled scream #trembling #lyss writes #irondad #don't tag as starker

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umbraja · 4 years ago

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2020: Vindication for Losing My Mind in 2016

Have you ever made a prediction that was really a warning but everyone you told just blew you off? They called you paranoid, alarmist, or even crazy. They said it could never happen to us. You’re just over-reacting. It’s not going to change a damn thing. So they went about their normal lives completely oblivious to the absolute disaster you saw coming.

That was me in 2016.

Not in November like a lot of liberals. I went crazy in June. The first ones to dismiss me were the ones that lost it in November. They didn’t think America would elect such a cartoonish bigot. They still had faith left in humanity and didn’t realize just how bad things had already gotten. It only took a few months to prove them wrong. Sadly, a lot of them still missed the point. They found scapegoats and excuses to explain how this anomaly could have happened without taking credit for their part in the deal. Of course they’ve spent the time since doing nothing to fix it.

The people that believed me about the election took longer to prove out. They knew the silent majority was real or at least Clinton was unelectable but they didn’t think Trump would really be that bad. They figured he would be yet another lame duck and maybe send a message to DC that they need to give us better candidates next time. Some of them even voted for him. Some of those still don’t regret it. They’re so wrapped up in their party loyalty and fear mongering conservative narrative that they no longer live in the same world as liberals do.

I am not surprised.

2016 was unprecedented but it wasn’t unpredictable. It was actually inevitable. The logical progression of centuries of elitist politicians all fighting for the rich man’s favor while leaving the people behind. Then the Cold War came along and turned the people against each other creating a polarized climate of us vs them that crippled America’s ability to support social programs while also draining our resources on hapless foreign wars. The 80’s brought us Law and Order politics which allowed racists to criminalize parts of minority culture, exacerbating the already vicious cycle of generational poverty. The 90s saw globalization and automation reduce American jobs which widened the wealth gap and gave racists an excuse to blame immigrants for it. 9/11 scared America into giving up personal freedoms and militarizing the police for a War on Terror which galvanized conservatives under God and Guns while liberals struggled to agree on a direction, let alone a catchy slogan. 2008 gave us a black president and liberals called anyone who criticised him a racist which incensed conservatives into creating a movement of aggressive anti-intellectual propaganda using social media echo chambers to oppose the “liberal bias” of mainstream media. Around the same time the Great Recession of 08 exposed government and corporate corruption that had been eroding the middle class for decades and turned the people against the establishment. So the silent majority elected enough Republicans for Congress in 2012 and 2014 to give them their largest lead since the Great Depression. By 2016 the Republican party had already been taken over by alt-right extremists but Democrats were too out of touch to see them as a credible threat.

It’s no wonder that a narcissistic conman like Trump would take advantage of all this to make himself the most powerful man in the world. Nor is it surprising that foreign powers would use the existing chaos to further divide this nation. Or that bigots would scare reasonable people into supporting their oppressive agendas. History is full of things like this. In America and all over the world, from beginning to end, history repeats itself. History also tells us that you can only sit on a powder keg for so long before someone lights the fuse.

Now it’s 2020 and the world is on fire.

Pretty much everything I was afraid would happen as a result of 2016 has. I tried to warn people about it but no one listened. I lost friends and haven’t seriously spoken to much of my family for years because they refuse to pull their heads out of their echo chambers and listen to reason. Yet I am considered the crazy one. I am the one that had a mental breakdown in 2016. I am the one with depression and anxiety and PTSD. I am the one who saw it coming and had to watch as they waved torches around the bomb.

They said it couldn’t happen but the last four years have seen nearly all my predictions come true:

Racist policies became norm, embolden racists to open bigotry

Mass shootings and domestic terrorism are on the rise

Trump abused the office for personal gain in so many ways

Environmental regulations rolled back, climate change denied

Financial regulations returned to what caused Great Recession

Democrats forgot to listen to the American people - again

Republicans pardoned Trump for everything regardless of facts

Fact and Truth have lost all meaning to “fake news”

Trump's conspiracy theories and lies further divided America

Trump protected his cronies and “fired” anyone that disagrees

Trump appointed two Supreme Court Justices, turn conservative

States proposed abortion bans that make it a capital crime

Tax cuts for the rich did not help the average American

The federal deficit has soared to new heights

American tax dollars were wasted on a big, dumb wall

Immigration policies separate families in camps, children die

Trump’s love of dictators let foreign powers manipulate him

Trump played hardball with Iran and nearly started WWIII

America first policy alienate allies, abdicate global power

China stepped in to the fill the power vacuum left by America

China has reduced human rights enforcement around the world

Trump levied tariffs on foreign goods that hurt the economy

Trump started an unwinnable trade war with China

China used this trade war to gain political allies

Trump yells about China for wrong reasons, hides real threat

Democrats didn’t learn, are running an establishment candidate

Racial and political tensions increased enough to cause riots

Federal officers were sent in to silence peaceful protestors

Political dissidents are being targeted by law enforcement

Trump followed the Fascist Playbook, emulated 1939 Germany

Trump put his own vanity above the safety of American people

Trump unable to handle crisis, thousands of Americans died

The only two things I predicted that haven’t happened yet are: Trump causes a war and Trump doesn’t give up power at the end. The year’s not over yet. We’re sitting on a radioactive powderkeg and the politicians are playing with matches. I’ve been predicting the fall of ‘Murcia for over a decade now but 2016 made me realize it might happen sooner than I thought.

It might happen in 2020

I really hope I’m wrong this time.

#politics #2020 #i told you so

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ryder616 · 5 years ago

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Rewatching Purpose in the Machine

FitzSimmons have the worst luck and are constantly torn apart by crazy. But that’s the half-empty glass narrative. Because they also keep finding each other again, despite the crazy, and sometimes have the dumbest luck.

I mean, take this episode:

Fitz jumps into the literal unknown and

is not vaporized by radiation or killed by any other unhealthy thing that might happen to a human body travelling through a wormhole.

There’s an actual planet on the other side.

Atmosphere, pressure, gravity and temperature are all compatible with human life (from the sand all he could really deduce is that the Monolith had opened in some place where at some point there had been oxigen to combine with silicon).

There aren’t other immediately lethal environmental hazards.

Nor trigger happy locals who could take exception to the sudden appearance of a hairless primate.

The English scientist he is looking for, who has been lost for six months, has not only managed to survive against some pretty hefty odds but happens to be outside and in running distance when they open the portal and send the flare through.

He has a friend with just the right kind of superpowers who doesn’t let ruptured blood vessels and other such trivialities deter her when lives are on the line.

So they may not be lucky. But they aren’t exactly unlucky either. 😉

Daring Engineering:

The last time Fitz was faced with the possibility of living in a world without Simmons, he gave her the only oxygen. This time, he’d rather be lost forever where she might be than go on without her. I’m sensing a pattern.

In his desperation he also endangers Daisy’s life (well, more than it would have been anyway), as she goes from prepping to test her limits with a probe “nobody cares about” to going beyond them for her friends’ sake with no advanced warning. She’d agreed to it in a heartbeat but he is so focused on Jemma’s rescue that nothing else seems to factor in, including practicalities like making sure life is indeed possible on the other side of the portal.

She’s Got the Powers:

Daisy resonates with the Castle’s room to generate a subsonic frequency to create a quantized field within the Monolith that activates it and eventually shatters it when she loses control of the pitch. Or something like that. 🤪😂 Luckily for a certain pair of incorporeal body-snatchers, everyone’s going to forget all about it. 😈(sorry, not sorry. We all have our hills, and this is mine. 😁)

Major props to the Hydra cultists who figured out how to work the Monolith without modern physics theories, only rudimentary technology at their disposal and no vibrokinetic hackers around.

Stuff that crossed my mind:

Our best minds are working to understand this. But as far as we know, in all of history, no one has ever returned. It’s alright, that translates into 100 % chance of success in FitzSimmons. 😁

I think Joey’s a real candidate. -- Sure. He’s Inhuman. But doesn’t meet my criteria. -- He’s a decent guy and you know it. We never got to hear what Mack’s criteria were but I suppose “able to control his power” was the major one, because otherwise, what’s wrong with Joey?

It’s Fitz! Fitz broke into containment! Guys, relax, it’s called empirical research. With just a dash of suicidal flair to keep it interesting. 😁

Don’t die out there. -- And Hunter, make sure he does. This is attempt # 5 to kill Ward, after each of the Bus Kids had a go at it and May couldn’t follow through with hers because Bobbi’s extraction took obvious priority.

The nightly news, cities flying into the atmosphere, government task forces, and now the public is freaking out about alien outbreaks. Well, it’s less depressing than our nightly news....

I really wanted to hear what excuse Coulson might have spinned for the prison guards.🙁

How’s May? Where is she? Is she ever coming back? All excellent questions. Apparently the answers are “fine but troubled”, “Sun City, Arizona” and “Eventually yes, because she’s still in the main credits”.

PSA: Melinda May has the best parents, redux.

Why come to me? I’m no interstellar travel expert. I’ve never even studied gravitational lensing or zero-point energy fields or quantum-harmonic oscillation theory. -- Yet you know all those words you just said. Hey, maybe he reads a lot of hard sci-fi?

So we know nothing of its origin. -- Kree, maybe. [...] the Monolith changed hands a lot. Germanic tribes, spent the Hundred Years’ war in France. But before the Napoleon era, it was moved again. I lost track of it somewhere in -- England. And after that it ended up buried by an unknown party in the Yucatan where at some point S.H.I.E.L.D. dug it out and then loaded it on the Iliad (not necessarily in quick succession).

Good thing I dropped by -- Why’s that? -- I’m an exterminator. And a walking action movie one liners generator, apparently.

So, I was here admiring the stone work. Randolph used to be a mason on Asgaard, before joining the Berserker Army.

This is why I got rid of all the S.H.I.E.L.D. logos on our vehicles. It’s like screaming for attention. So nothing to do with the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. was labeled a terrorist organization and is still quite illegal?

There’s a ginormous eagle symbol on top of our jet. -- Yeah, sometimes I can’t help myself with the cool. Dork. 🤗

You want to fight fire with fire. I get it. But you can’t be reckless about it. All these people who transform have the potential to turn into monsters. But the team you do have has that danger, as well. [...] Coulson’s desperate to win on any front. But desperation leads to mistakes. Giving Hunter carte blanche to get payback, letting Fitz try to open a portal to save one life, these are questionable decisions. Nice foreshadow-y overview for the season, there, Dr. Garner.

When I changed, I felt like a monster. I needed help. This is a chance to show people they have a place to belong. [...] I want Inhumans taking action with S.H.I.E.L.D., to see that being different can mean making a difference. I’ll be over here, swooning for a bit. And also crying, because, dammit S3. She was so full of passion and you had to wreck her. 😥

You put on skates at 7 years old, and you didn't take them off until five years later. A natural. -- I was obsessed with Dorothy Hamill. Buffy Summers was also a talented ice-skater in her childhood and equally obsessed with Dorothy Hamill. Ice-skaters kick ass. Obviously.

You expecting company? -- No, but I'm not afraid of the prospect. 🤣

Mack, I need you to load something onto Zephyr 1 and bring it to us. -- What exactly am I bringing, sir? -- Yeah, you're not gonna like it. And now I wanted to see Mack’s face at the news.🙁

[Ward] sees your face, you’re made. -- If he’s close enough to see my face, then I’m close enough to put a bullet in his. It seems like Hunter agrees with Simmons that it’s better to aim for the face. 😁

If we were realistic, we never would have gotten this far. You should have this engraved on every wall of every S.H.I.E.L.D. base ever, Phil.

[Andrew] says I’m reckless. [...] He said you’re desperate. Coincidentally, both adjectives apply to Fitz quite well at the moment.

That pulsing sound was killing me. -- What pulsing sound? -- Are you serious? It was deafening. More evidence that Daisy has an extra “sense” now that regular humans don’t. Or enhanced hearing I guess, but I’m going with option one.

We’ll fix the machine, Turbo, but you got to chill. [...] How are we supposed to fix a machine we don’t know how it works? Mack needs sheet music (2x02). 😉

Come on. Brought tacos. Hey, here’s one way Ward’s better than Garrett. When he says he has brought tacos, he apparently means it and doesn’t have a loaded gun hidden in the bag instead (1x21). 😁

I just want to have a normal life, dad, away from S.H.I.E.L.D. I want to see if I can. -- Normal? With a handgun in your golf bag? Apparently (thank you, Google) Arizona was named the “best state to own a gun” in 2016 by the magazine “Gun and Ammo” and you can carry most handguns without a permit there. So a handgun in a golf bag doesn’t sound all that abnormal for the place. And now excuse me while my European self freaks out over American gun laws (or lack thereof). 😱 😉

My daughter always got back up. Yeah, she does. Hopefully, she’ll also be able to not have to keep doing it over and over anymore. Seriously, S7, you’ve got to do right by May.

Hydra’s fractured, in pieces. We’re gonna rebuild it. The right way. Ward’s taking a page from Coulson who at the end of in S1 set out to rebuild S.H.I.E.L.D. the “right” way but it’s like a page he picked up from the ground after it had been torn, stepped on, and dirtied by muddy water. It’s really tragic how much energy and skill Ward put in endeavours that only ever brought more death and misery into the world.

Wait. That’s the point. Quantum harmonic oscillation theory, like the professor said. [...] It’s a strange shape for this time period because it’s made to resonate to create a quantized field within the stone. And look whose ears are perking up at the word “resonate”. Totally exactly like it never happened in S6.😈

Fitz, you’re talking, but we’re not totally following. Speak for yourself. Daisy’s following.

The room is a speaker. The machine is an amplifier. A subsonic frequency to resonate with the Monolith. -- You saying you figured out a way to fix the machine? -- No. I’m saying I figured out -- We don’t have to. I can do it. I can open the portal myself. See? Following and arriving at the same place.

All right, you listen to me. You take care of yourself. We lose that probe, nobody cares. Good, checking what’s on the other side first while Daisy tests her limits. Sound plan.

Hold it open as long as you can [Fitz jumps in]. I guess we’re going with the “hoping my theory about the portal is correct and it doesn’t open into something that’ll kill me, Simmons is in shouting distance and my superpowered friend doesn’t die now that it’s not a probe but her two best friends’ lives depending on her” plan instead, huh?🤣

You did good, Tremors. You did good. Aw, Mack...all that Real S.H.I.E.L.D. business? Totally forgiven. 🤗 🤗

We brought a woman back from the dead today. That makes three actual or metaphorical resurrections so far, by my count. Four if we count Fitz waking up from a coma (and why not). I get it now, all the fridging in the season was needed to balance the scale! 😁

Agent Coulson. What exactly is Daisy? -- They call themselves Inhumans. -- I have not heard that word in a very long time. Oh, this sounded intriguingly foreboding. Too bad he won’t ever be around again to elaborate.

#agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#aosrewatch #aosrewatchs3 #aos 3x02 #phil coulson #melinda may #daisy johnson #jemma simmons #leopold fitz #alphonso mackenzie #bobbi morse #lance hunter #andrew garner #grant ward #text post #rewatchingaos #rewatchingaos3

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