#except for the brain damage I suffered watching this trailer

[whumpster-fire]

Dragon Rider’s Movie Adaptation: The Tragic Tale of How I’m so Fucking mad right now

Aaaaand looks like yet another of my favorite books from my childhood, along with the Percy Jackson and Artemis Fowl series, will be joining the “Has an adaptation but everyone pretends it doesn’t exist because it’s so goddawful that they couldn’t even get the actual author to pretend it’s not garbage” club: since according to the comments Cornelia Funke basically came out and said it sucked and they butchered her work.

Seriously... imagine buying the film rights to a beloved classic - spending actual money to get the IP rights - and then just turning it into a bland, half-baked ripoff of a totally different franchise. Like, if all you want to do is rip off How to Train Your Dragon, why did they even bother with that instead of making an “Original” story? Definitely the highlight of the trailer was when they showed the kid - I can’t remember his name from the book but with this tier of adaptation god knows they probably changed it - in a Viking helmet and a poster for an obvious HTTYD spoof because they knew damn well what they were doing, and thought if they made a self-aware joke about how obvious the ripoff was, people would be... okay with it?

These character designs are also just so... embarrassingly bad, especially considering the high quality cover art and illustrations in the damn book that they had to work off of. Some idiot in a suit, probably an entire committee of idiots in suits, had to have actively made the creative decision to change Firedrake into this... weird, bulbous flying sack of potatoes that looks like Barney the Dinosaur or something, make Sorrel this short-haired onion-headed generic furrybait (sorry, there’s no other way to put it) monstrosity that looks like she came from an Ilumination Studios Dr. Seuss Adaptation mixed with Elora from Spyro or something, make Nettlebrand not even remotely threatening or intimidating, and so on. Uhh... I guess Twigleg’s Design wasn’t complete garbage and that’s literally the only positive thing I can say about this?

Additional special mention goes to shoving as many racial stereotypes into the like five seconds of screentime the two Indian characters had in the trailer as possible (note that one of these characters isn’t even in the book so was apparently literally added to the movie for the sole purpose of this?)

The worst part of this whole dumpster fire is knowing that somewhere out there is an alternate timeline where Dragon Rider was adapted by Laika and became one of the greatest animated films of the 2020s. I mean, any studio that was actually trying to make a good movie would be better than this, but Laika’s artstyle if they treated it like Coraline or Kubo and the Two Strings would be so fucking perfect for this. My only misgiving would be I’m not sure the way they do fur would quite capture the amount of Grouchy Maine Coon Energy that Sorrel should have... but see above point that literally any even half-assed attempt at floof would be way, way more faithful to her design than fucking Elorax over here.

[stayextrafrosty]

I am Your Future, I am Your Past

A Roswell New Mexico soulmate AU

Description: Soulmate AU based loosely off a manga I’ve read recently. The Manes and Guerin family lines have been drawn together for generations. A curse placed on the original lovers forces them to endure trials where the Guerin’s take any damage inflicted on the Manes’. Present day, Alex Manes has no idea about his family history. Then Michael Guerin, of all people, shows up saying he’ll protect him no matter what.

Warnings: Homophobic and racist language, violence, angst

Pairing: Alex Manes/Michael Guerin

Minor/side pairings: Michael Guerin/Maria DeLuca, Alex Manes/Forrest Long, Liz Ortecho/Max Evans, Isabel Evans/Maria DeLuca

Rating: Explicit

Title from the song “Take on the World” by You Me At Six

Read on AO3

-

Prologue

Back in the days of ritual sacrifice, there were two families. The Guerin family served the Manes. The two children grew up together, playing, studying, learning to fight. As they got older, their parents began forcing them apart, for the Manes Princess could never be seen with a Guerin slave.

The two children snuck out at night, talking about how it would be different someday. Someday they could be friends openly. As they moved into their teenage years, things changed again. Nights were spent in each other’s arms. Soft sighs as they memorized the feeling of their bodies. It was bliss.

They were discovered by the princess’ father one night. He beat the slave boy, breaking his hand for daring to touch his daughter. They were forbidden to see each other. The slave boy was held back and hidden from view when the Head family was around. The princess cried for her friend and lover.

The yearly sacrifice to the gods was upon them. And a white flag sat in the front courtyard of the Manes estate signaling it was to be their daughter presented. The lord stole his daughter away, forcing her into a small shed in the dark corner of the grounds. He had no intention of getting in the way of the sacrifice for she had disgraced him. But he knew the slave boy would try to stop it.

The slave boy knew the grounds like the back of his hand. He had to memorize the best routes to take when the two of them had been sneaking out. He located the small shed with ease and tried to encourage the princess to run away with him. She cried for him, wishing she could. But this was her duty. She didn’t want to anger the gods, or worse, her father.

The slave boy went to her every day and every day tried to talk her out of being the sacrifice. Her resolve weakened as she listened to the promises her made her. He would protect her. They would run as far as they needed, until they could be together. The night before the sacrifice was to take place, they ran.

The family chased them, the slave boy protecting the princess with everything he had. But it wasn’t enough. They had almost made it out of town before they were caught. Lord Manes had come prepared to perform the sacrifice himself.

She made no sound as the arrow pierced her back and heart. She stumbled and fell to the ground. The slave boy cradled her body in his arms. He was going to be next. But the lord didn’t kill him. He wanted the boy to suffer without her. They were left among the trees.

The boy pleaded to the gods to save her. Let her live. Let him take the pain instead. They heard his plea and granted his wish. With conditions. The future generations would be forced to feel this same pain. They would be drawn together as the lovers were, facing trials to prove they were truly meant to be.

The boy took on the princess’ wounds, dying in her place. She wept but continued living for his sake. She would always love him and every one of her reincarnations would too…

The story of the original lovers was passed through generations. Every few generations would go through trials. The pair rarely survived to complete them. Men and women died senselessly. Always drawn together by the curse for the sick enjoyment of the gods.

-

Chapter 1

Michael Guerin always scoffed at the old books and stories. Or at least he did. Then the marks appeared on his chest. A geometric looking flower with five diamond shaped petals. He fought the urge to go looking. No way was he going to start taking on the pain of someone else. Besides, Alex Manes was in the past.

He didn’t even know the history. And why would he? He had three brothers who probably all knew it, and nothing ever happened. All the reincarnations had been a man and a woman. So, unless Alex had a cousin, some mistake had clearly been made.

Michael’s phone buzzed in his pocket while he was elbow deep in a junk car. He tried to convince the customer that it was a lost cause, but the guy wouldn’t hear it. Michael could fix almost anything, even this old ford. But he knew when it would just be a waste of time.

He wiped his hands on his jeans before pulling out the phone, trying to avoid getting too much grease on it. His girlfriend’s name lit up the screen and he smiled. They had gotten off to a rocky start, but things were easier now.

“Am I running late for something again?” He grinned even though she couldn’t see it.

“No, but would it kill you to be on time for once,” she said sarcastically.

“Look DeLuca, I gotta make an entrance. So, what did you need from me today?” He wished he could see her roll her eyes.

“I just wanted to remind you that we’re having a welcome home party for Alex. You remember him, right?” How could he forget? Michael clenched his fist, flinching at the pain from the areas that were broken.

“Yea. You want me to come along or something? I will for you, but I don’t want it to be weird. We weren’t really friends.”

“Ok but Liz is bringing Max so that doesn’t really matter. You’ll know someone.” Michael sighed. Him and Max haven’t exactly been on talking terms. He and Isobel had been able to escape the thumb of the family. They knew the story of course but no mark had ever appeared on them. In fact, it was a miracle one had appeared on him at all. It usually made itself known in the high school years. At least, that was the pattern.

“Alright. Are you hosting at the Wild Pony?”

“Yea. Open bar and everything,” she said knowingly. Michael laughed.

“You know me so well, Maria.”

“But of course. So I’ll see you later. Love you!” The line clicked off. The sun passed behind the lone cloud in the sky, providing the briefest of relief from the desert sun.

Ten years ago, Alex left. He didn’t even say goodbye. They weren’t good for each other and they both knew it. Michael slammed the hood of the car a bit harder than he meant to.

“Hey! Don’t need you breakin��� customers cars,” his boss, Sanders called to him. The old man was half blind and pushed a lot of work onto Michael but he also let him live on the lot. He couldn’t complain.

“Sorry. Hey, I’m heading out for the day. I’ll come in early to finish this up. Or maybe you could just call him back and convince him that this is a lost cause.” Sanders shook his head.

“If I do that, then he won’t pay.” He stepped back inside the small trailer he used for paperwork. Michael headed over to his own trailer. The least he could do was change clothes. He considered hooking up the hose to his trailer to shower too but then Sanders would be all over him about operating costs. He tossed his dirty shirt on the pile that needed to go to the laundromat.

“Ah, fuck it,” he mumbled to himself. He didn’t want to embarrass Maria by smelling like sweat and old car. He laughed at himself. Alex has always liked-

No! He wasn’t going to let himself finish the thought. It doesn’t matter anymore. They weren’t friends. They were hardly acquaintances anymore. Alex Manes was just a guy who happened to share the same name as the stupid prophecy.

-

Alex sat outside the Wild Pony in his car. He hadn’t been here in ten years. Was he ready to get back to life as normal? He wasn’t the same kid that left to escape home all that time ago. He was broken. More than he was then. Missing a leg. Nightmares that haunted him.

He shook his head and stepped out of the car. He knew he was early, but he couldn’t help it. It eased the anxiety. This wasn’t war. It was ok if his brain wasn’t running a million miles a second.

The dust covered his shoes as soon as he set foot back in Roswell. Something that didn’t change when he went to Iraq. It felt new and familiar. He raised a hand to his chest where his friends had slapped a tattoo on him but refused to admit it. It wasn’t bad, just strange. A geometric flower with diamonds for petals.

The pull of Roswell was never something he understood. He just knew he had to be here. Leaving was hard but it was for the best. The first thing that had happened when he got back was his father lecturing him. No familial connection at all.

Alex clenched his fists and moved toward the doors. This was no time to be thinking of the past. The door stuck in that familiar way. His crutch stuck to the ground but not enough for it to hinder his movements.

A smile settled on his face as he took in the surroundings. Nothing had changed except for the neon sign that had all the letters lit up. Maria must have had someone fix it. No one sat around the pool table though it was set up. A group laughed and he turned toward the bar. He watched as Max Evans and Maria DeLuca attempted to hang a sign. It was clearly much bigger than they had planned. Liz and Rosa Ortecho held a glass of something and laughed as Max wobbled on the step latter.

“You guys know this wasn’t necessary right?” The four of them turned to look at him. The three girls jumped up and rushed over to him. Maria dropped the sign, leaving Max to stop it from knocking bottles over.

Liz and Rosa wrapped him in a tight squeeze and he laughed at their excitement. He had missed this. Hugs were rarely exchanged in the air force. It usually requires an almost death. Maria joined the group hug, but the extra weight was pushing him off balance.

“As much as I love all of you, I think this would be easier if it was one at a time.” They all laughed, letting him go slowly.

“I told you not to be here until six! Why don’t you listen to me,” Maria whined? She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Because when have I ever listened to you,” he joked back.

“Ok so you’re still that little boy who is a good kid but trying to be bad? Got it.” Rosa grinned as she pulled him in. “I’ve missed you, Manes.” Alex rolled his eyes at her.

“Rosa, come on. No need to pull out the friendly insults as soon as he walks in. You could always insult her back you know.” Alex laughed as she hugged him.

“Nah, I think I’ll spare her for now.” The group laughed again as Max came up beside Liz. They had never been close but they got along. And Alex knew Liz loved him. He reached out a hand, smiling kindly at him.

“Welcome back, Alex. Oh, and thank you for your service,” Max said. He reached out and shook his hand.

“You know I just did this for attention right?” Liz’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise as they all started laughing. Alex followed the group to the bar. Max and Maria resumed their task of trying to hang the banner. Alex offered to help but they refused, stating he shouldn’t set up for his own party.

Other people showed up as the evening went, some helping add decorations that he truly believed were unnecessary. Old friends from high school stopped to catch up and thank him, though he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. His time in the service wasn’t always for causes he believed in. He lost count of the number of times where he realized what they were doing could be considered wrong.

Maria checked her phone for the twentieth time, mumbling about how “he was late.” She mentioned in a letter she had fallen for a guy that ended up being surprising. Apparently, he used to be some regular at the bar. She didn’t think good of him, but something changed.

“So, do I get to meet that guy you were raving about in your last letter?” Alex took a sip of his drink, raising an eyebrow at Maria.

“I mean, that was the plan but apparently he’s ditching. Or he just wants to be fashionably late,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Of course, I guess you might know him. He did go to school with us.” Alex racked his brain, but no one stood out. Maria sighed and shrugged.

Alex felt a tugging in his mind. In his heart. It happened occasionally overseas when he was homesick. Must be the nostalgia of the Wild Pony. He jumped as Maria moved suddenly.

“There you are! Took ya long enough.” she bounced out from behind the counter. Alex chuckled as he turned in his seat to meet the mystery man. He took a sip of his drink as he did and nearly choked.

A cowboy hat sat on his head but the curls refused to be tamed. Alex watched as Maria wrapped her arms around his waist and he kissed her head. Then he turned his eyes on him.

Every memory he had successfully suppressed while he was away came flooding back. Alex glanced down at his hand. It was still messed up from when his father had- He looked away quickly. Michael Guerin… he never thought he’d see him again. Pain tugged at his heart but also something so incredibly right that that world could end and he wouldn’t care.

“Alex. Welcome home,” he said. He wanted to cry. There was a warmth in his voice that was so familiar. Memories of nights in Michaels truck or in that shed overwhelmed him. He was a still just a boy when it came to Michael.

“Uh yea, thanks. Nice to be surrounded by sand again,” he said, trying to sound confident. A small grin made its way onto Michaels face. Alex returned the smile, hoping it wasn’t as nervous as he felt.

“Alright, DeLuca. You got me here on the promise of free booze. Why not pour shots for the three of us?” Michael took a seat next to Alex, arm brushing against his briefly. Alex ignored it in favor of the tequila Maria was placing in front of them.

-

Michael didn’t know how to react. He hadn’t expected to simply look at Alex and have every old feeling resurface. His heart tugged at his chest, telling him to just reach out and touch him. To hold him close. To protect him with every fiber of his being.

“Ok but just because I could now kick Kyle Valenti’s ass doesn’t mean I want to. I’m trying to avoid violence.” Alex took another sip of his drink, his cheeks beginning to look flushed. Michael tried to hide his grin. He had never heard Alex so confident and comfortable. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking but it was a side of him he’d never seen.

“Maybe a bad idea to kick his ass these days. Guy’s a doctor,” Michael pointed out, taking a sip of beer. Alex raised an eyebrow and looked to Maria for confirmation.

“He’s not kidding. But hey, maybe he’s changed. Not like you’re the same kid from high school,” she said, raising her glass in a half toast.

“You can say that again. I might have wanted a tattoo then but when my buddies slapped one on me, damn I wanted to kill them. Course they deny everything. Assholes,” Alex said, laughing. Maria’s mouth dropped open, but a smile soon replaced it.

“Oh my god, where?” She could hardly contain her excitement. Michael had to admit he was curious. Alex shook his head and began to unbutton his shirt and he had to stop himself from choking on his drink. Was he really going to strip here? “Woah, maybe I should have cut you off earlier,” Maria joked. Alex rolled his eyes and grabbed the shirt to move it to the side.

“No. I’m not that far gone.” The flower on his chest reflected some of the lights, making the diamond petals look iridescent. Michael's eyes widened at the familiar pattern. There was no way this was happening now. Not after all this time.

“It’s not horrible considering,” Michael said, trying to act natural. Maria agreed with him as she reached out to touch him. Not that it would feel different than the other skin. As Alex readjusted his shirt, Michael felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Max, a serious look telling him to come right now.

He told the two he’d be back and followed Max outside. He must have overheard the conversation. Maybe even saw the tattoo. Michael knew what lecture was coming. The look of pity and misplaced apologies.

“Michael. You have to talk to him. He doesn’t know anything about that mark.” Michael sighed.

“Yes Max. I get it. You forget I’m part of the main branch. Just because my parents are dead doesn’t change that.”

“And yet you’ve avoided learning anything about the past incarnations.”

“What’s there to know? Things are going to happen that will likely kill us both and we have to get through ten of them or the curse will just continue to a later generation. Actually. Better idea. Why not just not have kids? Then the curse can’t continue, problem solved.” Max scoffed at Michael's plan.

“You idiot. That’s why there’s side branches. We took you in when your parents died and you’ve done nothing to try to survive,” he scolded.

“I didn’t ask you to do that! Why not just let me figure it out myself?”

“We are family, Michael. Isabel and I refuse to let you do this alone.” It was Michael’s turn to scoff. His humorless laugh must have made something in Max snap.

Max grabbed his shoulders. Shaking him and eventually shoving him back. Michael lunged at him. He hadn’t been in a fight in a while and he needed it. Michael swung his fist at Max’s face, only hitting his arm. He thought tackling would have been a better strategy but he tripped. Max grabbed him again, wrapping him in a chokehold.

“You care about Alex, don’t you? Of course you do. You can’t fight it Michael! If you do it for anyone, do it for him.” He clenched his jaw and tapped Max’s arm.

“He’s better off without this. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” Max shot an accusatory glare at him.

“You know that’s not how this works.” Michael shrugged and started back inside.

“We don’t know that,” he called back.

Michael looked around for Maria and Alex but they weren’t where he left them at the bar. He wished his heart didn’t immediately kick in to panic mode when he didn’t see him… them. He didn’t have to look hard. They had taken up residence with Liz and Rosa at one of the pool tables.

He watched from the door as Liz tried to convince Alex to play. He insisted he wasn’t good at pool and refused to play. Michael smiled, watching Alex run a hand through his hair. So what if he cared about him? Anything they had was over now. And he loved Maria.

Until Alex looked at him. Caught him staring. But he couldn’t look away. The tugging at his heart refused to let him. His fingers twitched in his pocket, aching to touch him.

Alex broke eye contact first. Though not by choice. Alex stumbled when some guy rammed a shoulder into him. Michael shook his head, brought back to reality.

“Watch where you’re going faggot,” the guy snickered. Michael thought he recognized him. The wrinkles on his face suggested he was older but he seemed to know Alex. Alex’s eye twitched slightly but he didn’t respond. Michael came up to the table just as Liz stepped into the assholes personal space.

“First of all, get the fuck out. You have no right to talk to a hero like that. You did nothing with your life after high school. You never stopped being a bully Chris and I’m glad it made you look like a fucking prune. Of course, the cigarettes also caught up to you. You are a worthless piece of shit and weren’t invited anyway.” Michael smirked. He saw why Max liked her.

He vaguely remembered the guy but he needed to reach way back. He thought this guy was an old friend of Kyle though he wasn’t sure about it anymore.

“Shut up you stupid alien. Don’t they teach you about respect where you’re from?” She looked surprised. But Michael wasn’t. This had gone far enough.

“Alright you fuck, time to go,” he said, grabbing his collar. Chris struggled in his grip but couldn’t pull free. Michael was pissed and anyone who was a regular here knew they couldn’t beat him when he was pissed.

Michael almost didn’t see the hand flying at his head. He released Chris and he stumbled, obviously drunk. But this asshole wasn’t giving up without a fight. His lunges were sloppy and slow, easy for Michael to avoid. He caught a glimpse of Max, watching from a table not far away.

“A little help deputy,” he asked, annoyed. Max sighed and grabbed Chris’ arm before he could throw another lame punch. Michael took the other and they hauled him out, throwing him to the gravel.

“Do everyone a favor and don’t come back you piece of trash,” Michael spit at him. Chris scowled before reaching behind him and pulling a fancy revolver from his waistband. Max and him shared a look before raising their hands slowly. He wasn’t sure if Max had a gun on him but because he was off duty, Michael wasn’t counting on it.

“Guerin!” Michael's eyes widened. He jerked his head to look behind him, at Alex. Michael heard the gunshot. He knows he did. He felt no pain, at least not right away.

Alex crumbled, clutching his arm though he hardly made a sound. Chris was stumbling away but Michael could hardly focus on that right now.

“Go after him, I’ve got this,” he said to Max. He nodded and ran after him. Michael rushed over to Alex trying to hold him up. His face was scrunched in pain, blood seeping into his flannel. “Damnit, Alex, why’d you follow us out here.”

“Cause I was worried,” he mumbled out. Michael sighed.

“You’re going to be fine. And don’t worry about me.” Alex raised an eyebrow at him.

“I was just shot. I would actually appreciate it if you called—” Alex blinked. Michael's arm started to ache, growing quickly to an agonizing throb. He ground his teeth together and stood, stumbling away from Alex. He could feel the blood start to flow down his arm. Alex was right. He would need a hospital.

“Wait, Guerin. What’s going on? What happened?” He grabbed at his arm where the wound used to be. Michael cursed. Of fucking course this happened. Now he had to explain it to Alex. He tried to make it to his car. Alex stood to follow him, though he was slow with the crutch.

“Damnit,” Michael muttered to himself. He jerked on the handle of his old truck. His arm was going cold. Losing too much blood.

“Michael.” He looked over his shoulder at Alex. There really was no use running.

“Look, Alex. I will explain. But right now, you need to drive me to the hospital.” Confusion danced on every one of his features, but his face set with determination quickly. He tried to help Michael as best he could to the other side of the car, but neither of them was steady with the extra weight.

“Here. Let me wrap it temporarily.” Michael’s eyebrows drew together but widened as Alex pulled his shirt off, tying it above the wound in his arm. “That should slow the blood flow. Hold your arm up as much as you can, ok?” Michael nodded, trying not to stare at him. He had a white tank top on, but he knew Alex was not the boy he used to be.

Alex sped to the hospital, probably breaking more than a few driving laws. It was a miracle he wasn’t pulled over. He screeched up to the front doors, nearly breaking the key as he tried to pull it out. He hurried as much as he could to help Michael keep his balance. They stumbled through the front doors.

“Hey, he’s losing blood fast! He might need stitches!” The edges of Michael’s vision started to go black and fuzzy. He felt the distant touch of hands. None he recognized.

-

Alex paced as much as he could outside the waiting area. What had happened. He knows he was shot. He grabbed at his arm again, but there wasn’t even an ache. It’s like the wound had transferred to Michael.

“Damnit,” he scolded himself. This was somehow his fault. He could feel it. He reached a hand over his heart, almost subconsciously. He frowned. Something did feel different.

He made his way to the bathroom and locked the door. Standing in front of the mirror, he watched in amazement as the tattoo glowed and dimmed a few times before one of the petals disappeared.

“What the hell…” He shook his head in disbelief. This wasn’t the tattoo he had thought his friends put on him. Maybe he should have listened when they said it wasn’t them. He made his way back to the waiting area as calmly as possible. He was greeted by Max and Isabel.

“How is he,” Isabel rushed out. Max rested a hand on her shoulder, nodding to Alex, like it was supposed to mean something. They shared a look.

“Michael’s getting stitched up. Should be done soon. But what’s with the pity looks and silent communication?” Isabel opened her mouth but shut it again with a look from Max. Alex gave a humorless laugh.

“It’s just better if Michael explains it to you. I’m sorry you’ve been kept in the dark so long,” Max said. He looked between the siblings. Before he could say anything else, the doors behind them slammed open, Maria rushing in with Liz in tow.

“Where is he? What happened? And I can’t believe you fucking drove! Are you stupid?” Maria pulled him into a hug. She was probably right. He felt sober as soon as he saw Michael hurt but that didn’t mean he was.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. And he should be fine,” he said, not sounding as confident as he hoped.

“Max what happened,” Liz asked gently, grabbing his hand.

“The asshole had a gun. He shot Michael while he was distracted.” Alex flinched at the words. It was his fault Michael was in pain. It was always his fault. Just like back then.

A throat cleared behind Alex. The group turned to the doctor. Kyle Valenti stood there, looking almost no different except for the beard.

“We stitched up the wound but couldn’t locate the bullet. It must have passed through his arm. So that’s lucky. He’s being moved to a room right now so you’ll be able to visit him,” he said, every bit the professional.

“Thanks Kyle. What room,” Liz asked?

“Follow me,” he said, turning. Maria held Alex’s hand the whole way there. She was scared. But Michael Guerin was not going to be stopped by something like that. Alex could feel him. Like his heart also beat within him.

The walk was short but tense. No one said anything. As if saying something would change Michael’s condition before they were able to see him. Kyle stopped in front of a door, knocking before pushing it open. Alex heard him before he saw him.

“You again?” Alex fought the smile back. Michael lounged with an arm behind his head, the other arm wrapped in gauze and in a sling.

“Hey, I brought people you like with this time. No need to glare at me.” Michael rolled his eyes before they settled on Alex. Though they only lingered a moment. Maria rushed to his side, grabbing him and kissing his head.

Alex hung back slightly, letting the others worry about him first. They would get their chance to talk. This was too important for Michael to not talk to him about.

“Let me make something very clear Michael Guerin. You are not allowed to get hurt like this again.” He chuckled as he sat up, hugging Maria.

“I’m fine. This won’t keep me down.”

“Maybe not but that doesn’t mean you can be careless,” Isabel noted. Alex thought she looked at him too but couldn’t be sure.

They didn’t get to stick around long. Visiting hours had technically ended before Alex had brought Michael in. Maria needed to be pulled away by Liz, promising her they would come back first thing tomorrow. Alex sat in the chair as he watched them leave. He just needed a couple things answered right now. It couldn’t wait.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to bring you home alright? Don’t give the nice doctors too much trouble,” Isabel said. Michael gave her a sarcastic salute as she was walking out. Alex stood from the chair slowly, moving next to his bed.

“Visiting hours are over, private.” Alex rolled his eyes.

“You know I haven’t been a ‘private’ in a long time, right?” Michael shrugged. He was avoiding the elephant in the room. “I’m not here for the banter, Guerin.” He let his head rest against the pillows, looking at Alex with that melting stare.

“I know,” he said. Alex waited for more but Michael just looked away from him. Was he shy?

“Any information at all would really be appreciated.” Michael half laughed and reached up to move the hospital gown to the side. The same mark that was on Alex’s chest was on his. His eyes widened, instinctively reaching to touch it.

Alex traced his fingers over the mark, petals reflecting the lights of the room. Michael's skin was hot, just like he remembered. He glanced up to meet his eyes. Michael slipped his hand over his, holding it in place over his heart. Alex felt his heartbeat speed up

Beeping from the heart monitor pulled them both back to reality. Alex jerked his hand away. He was just thankful the heart monitor couldn’t display his racing pulse. Michael cleared his throat and looked away.

“That mark is a connection. Looks like this counted as the first trial.” Alex’s eyebrows drew together. “Long story short. Our families have been cursed to be drawn together for generations to endure these trials. We have to get through all ten.”

“And if we don’t,” he asked?

“Then we’re dead.”

[mysamcedesmadness]

Steerio Hearts Stuff & Stuff

White Devils and the Demons They Serve (Chs 15-17)

I was gonna do two seperate posts, but you two are the ones who do most of the reading and y’all actually read EVERYTHING, so I figured, even if it’s as long as a chapter, y’all would’ve read it anyways.

@sweetiedee85

Stevie can’t even sniff his fingers with Bukowski breathing down his neck. What is Bukowski up to with Cheerio? 

I. Am. Still. Crine. Over this comment. That is all. (Because, you just found out in Ch 17 what Bukowski was up to.

But I guess it’s the devil you know versus the devil you don’t.

Even though this is regarding Tesla, this is actually a fantastic summary of most of the characters in this story, hell - in the series. People often accept what their life seems to be instead of fighting for what it can be. That DEFINITELY happens in the context of having a mental illness, because everyday life can be overwhelming enough, so taking extra risks and chances are sometimes astronomical.

What’s sad is they would rather do that than come see their child. Time is more value, and we see they don’t care enough to spend any with her.

The Robinsons are the worst. I just have no other feedback of them for right now. Radja more than Champ - but they are a team and that team should’ve included their daughter and never does. In fact, I have a little arc that involves Radja coming up shortly and yes, she’s just the worst in it. 

But then those dang nightmares and training haunting the poor guy. I know it’s something he struggles with even after their married. He has triggers, and they usually lead to him growing and learning something different about himself and the way he views things. It seems that this is only the beginning of that journey.

Stevie sometimes suffers from psychosis, so he’s forgotten a lot of things that he’s been exposed to, because his brain was just unable or unwilling to process the trauma - much like his breakdown after Mary died. This is why later he still has repressed memories punching him in the gut and why it’s important to him to be a realist. He seems like an asshole a lot, for “Just being realistic,” but he knows himself (particularly after he’s out) and he just wants to make sure he’s trying to assess things normally and naturally, so that he doesn’t unintentionally wind up in a state of psychosis... Now, WE know that sometimes, it’s going to happen, anyway. But, these glimpses into his episodes are here for me to try to explain why Stevie is such an “asshole,” OUTSIDE of his racism. That’s a completely different issue which I’d never justify. Lol.

I do wonder if Tesla wants this footage. I doubt Bukowski has any good in him so is it his self need to have every part of Tesla in his grasp, under his control? Will she be somehow grateful he’s gotten this back? Idk but just the thought makes me sicker.

Tesla does NOT want this footage, wants no part of this footage, was alarmed by Bukowski and Stevie even MENTIONING this footage, and has absolutely no need for this footage. This is primarily about Bukowski’s control, and also his fetish. He enjoys watching. He enjoys knowing things. It makes him feel powerful to know things and to be able to see things. She MAY be grateful that he’s gotten it, but honestly, she’s still suffering from the damage of the event. She knows that it has already been done, and whether or not there is footage, she’s already suffered and has to live with it. Be sick, be very sick. It’s meant to be deeply sickening.

Anyway, Stevie is out of control lol threatening Derek was un called for. We know at this point she’s the one exception to that word, and that’s recent so I wasn’t surprised when he said it. I thought Cheerio would at least consider turning down Stevie’s offer but nope lol She just as toxic in love as him, and she sees beyond his training. I doubt I could have it in me.

Stevie is often impulsive in his decisions, but sometimes, they’re premeditated. Sometimes, he thinks things out, knows that his decision isn’t great and does it anyway. He gets so much better about this as he ages, but Teenage Stevie is deeply territorial and no matter what he says, he feels like he owns Cheerio.

And, no ma’am. I can’t relate to her, in that regard. A chick called me “Kunta Kinte” in 2007. I tried to beat her with a beer bottle in her own trailer, had to get dragged out of there and brought home and I still will call her a bitch, if I see her today.

  Angelwings

Ok... Who is Bukowski even using to make Tesla (Ally) jealous? I mean agh.

This had me cracking up SO HARD. You would be surprised the kinda pink dick pandering out there on the innanets. Whenever I had a successful porn blog, right here on Tumblr, I seen some shit. And there are folk less attractive and less charming that can somehow manage to get little sex games going with people, especially if they’re in a fetish niche (which gingers are).

ok so Tesla told her to have sex in the shower? If she's in the bathroom they accept verbal... side eyeing and looking all squinted eyed trying to imagine how they WON'T get caught.

This is because the orderlies won’t generally just burst into the bathroom while a resident is in the shower if the resident seems fine and is willing to peek out and show their face. They’ll only barge in if the resident seems off (trying to pretend that they’re fine) or is not responsive. They want to value their privacy to a certain extent, but not to leave them vulnerable, if they somehow got hold of a weapon or something.

It just goes back to what Stevie says to Sam. He has to constantly battle with his thoughts. At least he does that.

I touched on this a little bit with Dee. Stevie HAS to do this, to make sure that he keeps himself grounded. His triggers are so dynamic that they literally take control of his mind, for a time. He wants to not have to experience that, and he never wants to hurt the people he loves because of some type of break.

Hmm so Dani is trying to work at a library. That's kind of perfect. Hope she gets it and keeps up her therapy and stuff. It always makes me upset to see any hospital release patients before they are ready. I really hope Dani can transition back into society.

Oh, no - she’s not trying to work at the library. The library is one of the few places that poor people can have access to the Internet and by this time, even though the story is set for several years ago - a lot of the jobs and such are available to apply online. Dani would most likely apply online, because she knows that she might appear to not be normal when going in to get applications and people might “fire before you hire” her upon seeing that she’s not very normal. Sorry, I didn’t explain that. I know that the Texas Workforce Commission has access, but I didn’t feel like researching how unemployment works in Ohio, so I just went the library application route. Dani’s story isn’t over yet, so you’ll definitely find out how life went for her.

They function as a community, one for all and all for their cause. People can do anything when they work together even create monsters and killers.

People who lead abusive lifestyles often see their behavior as normal. Hence arguments TO THIS DAY of “My mom beat me and I turned out fine” or “People are this way because they don’t get beat enough.” Contrary to the cases upon cases of research and information that hitting children only causes trauma. Now, generally - children of abuse do NOT turn out to be killers and horrible criminals. Some go on to be kind humans and productive members of society... But even those generally have to address the trauma that was caused by their toxic environments.

Inevitably we know the fate of the hospital but in the other stories we never hear of the other characters. I hope they get the help they need wherever they go.

I have stories plotted out for most of the ones that we know. It’s gonna be a moment to get to some of them, but I’ll try not to drop the ball, completely.

Stevie was angry with Bukowski for hurting his Bust it Baby- learning so much. I had to look that up. That is Cheri by every definition if not now then later. She is well on her way. That exchange was cute the way Cheri acted. 

Bust It Baby Pt 2 was ONE OF MY FAVES in the club. (Telling my age, now. LOL) But, THEY would have been teens/kids around that time, so I didn’t feel bad referencing that mug. Bwahahaha. Cheri DEFINITELY becomes all of that for Stevie. But, yeah - she was a little bashful about it being said in a group setting.

Even Tanisha had to tell him about himself with Stevie. It's like Stevie was punished for all the children, well Mary got to Stacey but Sam was golden. Some couples should not procreate. 

I think it took a while for Dwight to comprehend that just because Stacie and Sam ‘turned out okay,’ that didn’t MEAN that he had been blameless in helping to shape Stevie the way that he did. He never saw himself as having anything against Stevie, because he loved him as much as he did the others (or so he thought - he just wasn’t CLOSE to him). And Mama T was able to see that Dwight’s not being close to Stevie affected how he handled him, whether or not he did love him - which she believed and trusted that he did, but she needed him to get that STEVIE needed to believe and trust it.

This Entire Review: I Have a Lot of Responses, Love

Bukowski is blinded by crazy. Any half decent individual would see red flags. DANGER! DANGER WILL ROBINSON! What an idiot. Poetic justice would be if Tesla killed his awhen he drugged and kidnapped her or whatever his chosen crazy decides to do. I just don't see him living after he knocked on that door.

Unfortunately, Bukowski’s time is not yet up. But, he has definitely poked a bear by reaching out to Max. Stevie making deals in an institution with a demon eww. Stevie has his number already, is he blinded by the vajayjay?

Stevie is blinded by both the caviar and his inability to access, the way that he would like to. He’s a teenage boy trying to squeeze quickies in all day in between heavily monitored times. That argument between Stevie and Cheri was like imagining popcorn pop. You know the explosion is coming. When it does your like damned that's some Good popcorn! I kept saying Oh, and scrunching up my face like Stevie's next words are gonna get him smacked and then he did it. He said the ultimate, ONE word that is complete Taboo in anger no less. *SMACK* ! Round two lol!

Stevie often feels attacked when nobody is attacking him. I blame Dwight for this, because Stevie spent most of his life feeling like he had to explain and defend himself, to the point where his mentality is paranoid and he thinks that he has to fight whenever a conflict or challenge arises. Cheri is not a violent person, but whenever she gets angry (Teenage Cheerio) will lash out, because she’s in a position where she can’t just go to the spa or have a smoothie. She’s relaxed more later because she has the freedom to simply escape for a moment. Here, she’s a caged bird. Cheri is hella patient with him and I get it. I have had to explain blackness to other races, as if EVERY race and EVERY culture and EVERY class does not have their own innuendoes and humor. Even his Arian idiot family. Like the lady at work told my coworker with at straight face 'Don't all y'all like fried chicken? I said what did you do? My coworker said I took a deep breath and saidNo! And what you just said is considered racist. Of course she asked how? My coworker said she just walked away. I probably would have a. been patient and broke it down, or b. said ungh hungh just like all y'all like caviar and filet minion. Just would depend on my mood but Cheri is time enough for Stevie. Most of how she handles Stevie I agree with.

I don’t. It’s not my job to bear the burden of educating people who (if they gave a fuck) could access resources to educate themselves. I made those mistakes when I was younger, and that shit was nothing but additional emotional labor added to the constant processes I had to go through, throughout the day in my black ass skin. I watch racists getting beat up for being trash on YouTube all the time. That’s handling that I agree with.Lol. Now there is no way in hell any man would not take Derek's behavior as a challenge or threat. I felt like he was trying to purposely show Stevie he could reach Cheri in a way Stevie could not and do things with Cheri that Stevie could not just to put it in Stevie's face then try and hide behind a smile and laughter like he didn't have an agenda. Even if he doesn't like her like that he KNEW Cheri was with Stevie. He should have acted accordingly. I think Derek was trying to be sneaky. Yes Stevie is a jelly monster and he is territorial and possessive but that is Stevie. Like Mason calling Cheri Ri Ri then correcting himself in front of Stevie. Mason is not deliberately trying to poke the bear. He calms all that down in front of Stevie and Stevie eventually learns that Cheri has to have other friends. I don't think that was Derek's mind set, befriend Cheri and Stevie. He just liked having the attention sounds like from everyone, in a mental hospital. Stevie is not stupid. Cheri is a little Naïve I think, especially when she meets Max. To me she made a couple mistakes with that. Trust no one. Describe new people in addition to looking up tags. 

This is highly problematic, in my opinion, for many reasons, all of which - I’ll respectfully address. Firstly, any man or person in general that takes the friendship of someone else with their partner as a threat is toxic, and possibly abusive. Control and possessiveness are not key points of love. They are key points of obsession and obsession is almost always dangerous when it involves people as the object.

I don’t think that I wrote anything to indicate that Derek was in any way trying to challenge or compete with Stevie, so that feeling seems to be some internalized antiblackness or at the very least, sympathy for the devil - in this case, that’d be Stevie. Because HE was wrong and he reacted. There is nothing wrong with a black kid getting attention from people or trying to impress or please people, so I’m not sure why that would be considered poking the bear or purposefully trying to upset Stevie. 

They are ALL in the mental hospital, and while Stevie definitely isn’t STUPID, he certainly is psychotic. He’s not always right. Even his instincts are frequently off, at this juncture of his life and it isn’t the responsibility of a black boy, who is here for his own mental health to coddle Stevie and think about all the ways that he may or may not be offending him by being generally friendly to everyone around him, which is literally all Derek does in this chapter. I only wrote him making jokes and being jovial, up until the point that Stevie threatened him, out of paranoia, after being told multiple times that he shouldn’t bother with it.

And Cheerio is definitely naive, but that also doesn’t mean that she should have had all the answers as to why not to suspect everybody that she met. She did her part to try to keep herself safe, and of course, Max would have had avenues set up as to not tip her off. He’s been trained to deceive. Saying that she made some mistakes sounds a little bit victim blaming to me, especially considering that she followed the rules that were given to her, and whenever she was abducted, she was run off of the road and taken. She hadn’t met up with him in the woods, or something. 

She was extremely paranoid (affecting her mental state and her peace of mind), because of everything that they had told her and she had no way of knowing that someone who’s information came back clean was someone else. I feel like this must be stated - Max doesn’t just LOOK like Max Giardi when he greets her. He’s not going up to her looking like somebody that she could Google and she’s just put her thumb in her butt and calls it a coincidence. He’s tactical. He purposefully entered her world. He wouldn’t do it in a way that any normal person would notice that anything off, much less someone that he would presume has been told to look out for him.

Bonus Face Claim:

Ashlee Brian as Derek (Originally a dance crew member in “The End of Twerking” episode.

[julesdelorme]

Chapter 3 of faller. You can find the whole thing so far at the link at the bottom of this post.... Chapter 3 - the boy

I see him walking across the field, through the patches of dried out tall grass, the rotted out rusted corpses of cars and tractor parts that have been there for as long as I remembered, for what seems like as long as anybody remembered. 

I’m not sure he’s real. 

I’m not sure he’s human. 

He looks like some kind of monster, like some kind of beast from an old TV movie the old people’s stories with the strange shuffling limp and scarred shaved bald head, bare in the hot summer sun, shining in some places and dull in others. Nobody on the Rez walks around with a bare head in the middle of summer. 

Sometimes old Pieface Tim comes wandering over from next door, forgetting where he lives, but he has all his hair except for in one spot on the side of his head where somebody hit him with a rock from a campfire and he always wears a Canadian Tire cap. 

This one’s definitely not old Pieface. Even old Pieface looks like a human being at first look. 

I don’t have any particular feeling about this not stranger or about what he might do. It’s hot and I’m bored and I’m tired. 

I’m always tired. 

The doctors said I would get tired.

I don’t think that he’s going to ease my boredom or make me not tired in any way that matters, even if he’s some kind of real monster.

When I tell the story later on if I live I’ll probably say that I felt his presence as I stood there and knew that he was going to have a profound effect upon on my world. But it won’t be true. It’ll be a Rez truth. Sort of the truth but with a better story. It’ll make the story a little more interesting and more fun to tell, but it won’t be true. I take less notice of him than I might a crow or a mockingbird setting down on one of those rusted skeletons. It’s the nature of my world that people, even if they bring trouble, and they almost bring some kind of trouble on the Rez, are just one more drip in the monotony of exhaustion and pain that makes up my childhood.

The sad truth of it is that even him looking like some kind of monster, that strange limp, the way that he shuffles instead of walks, the wildness and woundedness of his appearance, isn’t remarkable in this place. Bad nutrition and drink leave so many people looking that way. Some were born that way because their mothers or their fathers or both had drunk too much and eaten too little and everything that they did eat was made of sugar or corn or bleached white something. It’s not all that unusual to see people without arms or legs because of diabetes or because they passed out drunk on the train tracks.

Even with the money from casinos most of us don’t take care of ourselves the way white people do. Maybe because we’re still raised by people who got beat down by the kihnarà:ken, by the white people, till they believed their lives didn’t matter.

I pretty much assume that the man’s going to hurt me.

I mean I don’t think he’s a Wendigo or anything like that. Just something about him like he just gave up on being human.

He’s in jail again. My rake'níha. My father. 

I’m all alone except for Goat, and she’s too old to do all that much damage to a stranger. I’m too small and skinny and weak to put up much of a fight. I fight back most of the time anyway. I never seem to have the sense to sit still and just take it the way that other kids on the Rez have figured out to do, to just take it until it comes to a stop. I keep getting up until I can’t get up anymore. I almost always make it worse. 

I know that sooner or later someone’s going to kill me. 

Maybe I hope that sooner or later somebody will kill me.

I don’t know.

I don’t want much to be alive. I don’t want much to be here. 

I just don’t have the energy to kill myself. I’ve thought about all the different ways to do it but it’s too much work.

It’d be so much easier if somebody kills me.

Maybe this strange monster looking limping man will be the one.

Even if he isn’t a Wendigo. He’s probably some kind of monster.

I don’t honestly know any more if I actually want to die or if it’s just not in me to lie down and stay down, that I’m just too stubborn to die. 

The doctors say I’m going to die. 

But that’s going to take a while.

And it’s going to hurt.

A lot.

People keep saying I’m brave. I’m not brave.

My brain doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. Even on the Rez people think I’m strange. Some of the older kids compare me to the character in that old movie Cool Hand Luke because they beat on me and I keep getting back up. I love that movie. I thought maybe it was meant as a kind of compliment. But later, when I watched that movie again, when I saw the sick look on the convicts’ faces when Luke wouldn’t stop getting up, couldn’t stop getting up, even when he knew that he’d been licked by George Kennedy. I knew then it’s not a compliment. I figure I might end up like Luke did at the end of that movie. Lying dead on a dirty floor with a big stupid grin on my face. 

The beatings from him, from my rake'níha, from my father, and my mother when I see her, and strangers when I see them, are just one more tributary of the monotonous suffering that is the stinking river of my childhood. 

This monster looking man will probably hurt me and root through the house, the burned out ruin that passes for our home, my home, in search of something that he can take. He might even kill me. I’m so dulled to pain, so tired, and the possibility of death that I can’t even find a way to care about that.

I’ll miss my Grandmother. 

And my friend, Roger. My only friend. He’s older than me but he takes the time to teach me to fight and hunt. I don’t know why. Probably pity.

I’ll definitely miss Goat. She’s as close to a good friend as I’ve got besides Roger. 

And I guess I’ll miss my cousin Dianne too. She checks in on me and brings me food. Probably because she feels like she has to. She’s nice. She’s pretty too. 

I might miss them if there’s some place you keep being after you die. But I won’t miss my life. I won’t miss waking up every single day weak and sick wondering out what bad thing will happen to me today. If this bad thing will finally be the last bad thing that will ever happen, that wouldn’t be so terrible.

He won’t find anything in the house. 

He sold or traded anything that mattered. My rake'níha. My father. He almost burned down the house and even when they gave him money to rebuild the house he spent it on booze and drugs and just left the house the way it was. They even gave him a trailer and he sold that. What he didn’t sell or trade somebody else came and took. 

I buried some raccoon and squirrels that I caught. Deep down in a plastic bag with salt. Some nuts too. But he won’t find any of it. I learned how to hide things so well that even a coyote or a badger couldn’t find them. And Goat’s a better guard dog than most dogs when it comes to that. If anyone gets too close to the house she’ll raise a racket, even if she can’t stop them.

She’s raising one hell of a racket right now.

The monster man’s head is down and his shoulders are hunched forward in a way that reminds me of the boxers that I saw when Roger took me to his gym. 

He doesn’t look up. Not even once. No sign that he sees me, or even notices Goat, except that he’s walking straight towards us. Every few steps he stops like he’s lost and mutters to himself. Then he kind of sways, like he’s struggling to get going again, and he keeps coming. 

I just stand here leaning against the old fence post watching him. 

I’m too tired to try getting away.

I could probably outrun him, slow as he is. But trying to get away just isn’t worth the effort. Besides, running would only put off this particular bad thing. If he doesn’t do something bad to me someone else will probably give me a beating today. Or tomorrow. 

Maybe I just want it all to come to an end. 

I don’t know. 

Maybe I’m hoping this stranger, this strange scarred up hollow of a man, might be the one that finally finishes it. 

He’s close now. I can make out all the scars. There’s a lot of them. All over his head and all over his face too. He mostly keeps his head down. I can see his hands and knuckles are all scarred up too, and I’m thinking maybe I was right about him being an old fighter. Or maybe just someone who’s as stupid and as stubborn as I am. If I lived long enough I’d probably end up looking an awful lot like him.

I won’t live that long.

Either way this stranger is probably dangerous. Maybe he will be the one to finally end it.

He stops when he’s about twenty feet away and looks at me, blinks, and then looks past me as if he doesn’t actually see me. 

I’m used to that look. Lots of people look past me like that. 

Mostly just before they hurt me.

He looks around at the yard, at all the garbage and dirt and dried up patches of grass and then up at the sky and then down at the ground. Then he looks at Goat, which gets her raising even more of a racket. If she wasn’t tied up she’d probably go after him. 

She and I have got that in common. It doesn’t make much of a difference to either of us that we can’t win the fight.

He just stands there for the longest time.

And I just stand there too. 

Waiting.

Neither one of us looking at each other. 

People don’t look right at each other on the Rez anyway. That’s asking for a fight.

We stand there, watching what we can out of the corners of our eyes. Even Goat gets quiet and just stands there.Waiting.

I’m used to waiting. 

I’m pretty good at waiting.

Waiting is one more thing you get used to on the Rez.

The stranger’s face is all scars and lumps. One eye’s so scarred over that it’s barely open and both his ears are like raw cauliflower. He doesn’t look like an Indian. 

But then again, neither do I. 

Not really. 

I’ve got dark hair and dark skin. It gets real dark in the summer and never burns. But there’s enough of my mother in my features that those kids on the Rez who do look Indian, even though a lot of them have got less of the blood than I do, beat on me for not being Indian enough. And the kids in the city beat on me because I’m not white enough. 

This guy’s skin is pale. Not the kind of pale that looks natural. The kind of pale that comes from spending too much time inside. 

Prison. 

He gets that look when he’s been in for a while. My rake'níha. My father.

The man doesn’t have all the tattoos that most men who spend time in prison have got. 

Men like him. My father. My rake'níha.

This guy looks like he can’t remember what it’s like to have freedom. He looks like he’s used to being in a cage. 

He has high cheekbones the kind of shape to his face that might make you think that he had Indian blood, but you would have to look closely to see it, or to see that he seems to know this place in a deep way, in the way that comes from growing up in a place like this.

We’re not supposed to call it Indian. 

I can’t remember what we’re supposed to call it now.

Kanien'keha:ka for our tribe.

But I can’t remember for the rest of them.

-Much chance you got any water around, I suppose. - He doesn’t say it like a question. More like a fact that he’s already figured on.

His voice sounds tired. Dry and full of gravel. The tips of two of his fingers are nicotine stained. Like he smokes rolled up cigarettes instead of store bought. 

-No. - I say.  -I emptied the jug last night.

That’s true. I would have said it to him even it wasn’t, but I used up the last of the water and didn’t get around to filling the jug back up yet.

The man stands there staring at the ground. He keeps his thumbs straight on the outside of his hands the way old boxers do. 

I’m starting to wish he’d get it over with. I also hope that he’s not one of those that like little boys. I’ve had that tried on me a few times. They always start by telling me how pretty I am for a boy. Up until now I always managed to put up enough of a fight to make them decide that I wasn’t worth all the trouble. I’m not expecting to get away with that forever. But I’m not looking forward to what happens when I don’t.

-Didn’t see no pump. - The man says -Guessing that place of yours got no running water anymore.

Again it was more like he’s stating what he’s pretty sure is a fact than like he’s asking a question.

I think for a moment about lying about where he is. Where my rake'níha is. But it doesn’t seem worth all the effort. He won’t take long to find out that I’m all alone if that’s what he wants.

-There’s a creek back in the woods. - I say -I usually get my water from there.

I don’t know why I said that. I know better than to give anything to a stranger. Even information. Giving anything away that you don’t have to never works out for anything but bad on the Rez.

-It ain’t too clean. - I say.

We stand there for a little while. 

I’m already getting bored.

Mostly people hurting each other is just one more way of not being bored in this place.I figure he’s coming due to hurt me soon though.

He just stands there though. Looks around. Looks up at the sky. Then back down at the ground.

It seems to me like he does that a lot.

-I don’t have money. - He says -Don’t... Don’t have too much of nothin.

He shuffles his feet. Something in the way he’s standing there gives me the feeling that he isn’t going to hurt me. But I know better than to trust anything in this place.Or maybe I just hope that he’s going to turn out to be a lot worse than he’s looking right now.

-Don’t suppose you could point me to the creek. - He says -I can’t give you anything for it.

Despite all the scars and the look of somebody who spent a lot of time in prison, there’s something about him that feels kind of gentle. Not kind maybe. And not towards everybody. But towards me and those like me. And he doesn’t talk like most of the people on the Rez or any of the bad ones who spend most of their time in jail. 

He isn’t going to hurt me.

Because I’m just a boy.

Maybe because I can’t hurt him.

-I could bring you there I suppose. – I’m as surprised at having said it as he seems to be at my having said it.

He looks straight at me for just a brief moment, as if he was seeing me for the first time and then looks back down at the ground.

We stand there for a while just not looking at each other.

I can tell he isn’t going to hurt me. There’s violence in him. A whole lot of rage and violence. He still seems very dangerous. Even with all the damage I can see that’s been done to him, he still seems like someone who can take care of himself in a pinch. That violence is probably not going to be turned on me. He would probably never use it on someone like me. 

I still don’t trust him. 

I don’t trust anybody. 

That part of me that won’t and can’t believe that even the people who have been good to me, won’t hurt me sooner or later. Maybe he would never hurt someone like me. I still can only see being hurt as something not very important, and not being hurt as a kind of disappointment. 

Maybe I’m a little bit sorry that it’s not going to end for me today.

He licks his lips, and the sound that his lips and his mouth make when he does that tells me that he has gone without water and been in the hot sun for way too long. 

-If you don’t want me to take you. - I say. -That’s fine too. 

I want him to know that I don’t care one way or the other. 

I don’t care one way or the other. 

But I want him to know that I don’t.

He licks his lips again. They’re dry and chapped, and the inside of his mouth sounds dry and chapped. I can hear it from where I am. 

-If it won’t be too much trouble. - He says -I guess I’m pretty thirsty and I could use some water. If that won’t be too much trouble.

I shrug my shoulders. Then I turn and start to head towards the creek. I stop when I realize that he isn’t following. 

He’s just standing there with this lost look on his face, like he’s confused or just can’t figure out if he wants the water after all.

-Mister. - I say -This is the way if you want some water.He gives me a kind of startled look and then looks back down at the ground and nods his head. The gesture’s so small and so slight that I barely see it. 

-Don’t you want to grab your jug? - He asks me. This time a real question.

I stare at him. Then I go into the house and get my jug.

Goat looks at me when I come back out.I go over and untie her.

-She won’t hurt you. - I say to the man. 

Just in case he’s scared of goats. Some people are. 

-She needs water too.

I lead them down to the creek.

The monster man follows me with that strange shuffling limp of his.

I’m not all that sure he’ll be able to make it to the creek.

And I’m not all that sure, if he doesn’t make it, if I’ll try to help him make it or not.

I’m not sure if I care one way or the other.

You can find the whole thing so far at.. https://www.facebook.com/delormewriting

#fiction #writing #writers #authors #author #novels #novelnovels #newnovels #julesdelorme #julesfdelorme #faller #delormewriting #scarboroughwritersfightclub #story #bear #native #nativestories #metis #metisstories ..

[tobeornottotc]

BTS LOVE YOURSELF SERENDIPITY TRAILER BRAIN DUMP (Analysis)

Her- About loving yourself, and meeting someone who changes you, someone who becomes like an antidote to your suffering. This song is going to be the intro for the new mini album her, continuing on and helping explain more about the story behind the Love your self-movie that will be out in 2018. First of all I think it’s interesting that the beginning of the album is starting with Serendipity, Serendipity means a happy mistake, a happy coincidence that occurs and results in positive outcome for the person. And this just reminds of the beginning of Love yourself highlight reel, where Jin manages to bump into the girl near the train station that ends up being his ‘girlfriend’ after he read the diary. That was a happy occurrence and it seemed romantic, yet we know that this two won’t last because he unfortunately loses her by a car crash.  

However this is interesting to me, the lyrics of the song are very cute, romantic and sweet sounding just like a first love story. Jimin sings it with such warmth, that it makes us feel like we’re the recipient of the song. However the call back in the videos to the other parts of the wing series might hint at the darker parts of the love yourself storyline. Especially since it seems to have a heavy link to the Wings Era.  

First of all let’s talk about the colour yellow.  The colour yellow is used in many arts for a symbol linked to happiness and love. However it is also a colour which is very versatile and can symbolise the darker parts of love and romance.

Yellow first of all symbolises, joy, brightness, comfort, loyalty, clarity, hope, remembrance, enlightment, which are words you can use to link to the idea of a first love that’s special. However the other part of yellow represents, cautiousness, sickness and jealousy.  

Notice the yellow on Hobi?

I talked already about how Jimin is linked to the False self-theory, and how he may be happy on the outside but on the inside hes broken and shattered and lying to himself. The music video shows me a call back to that kind of idea. In wings we see him and Jhope in the hospital playing around in a white clinical room. The same place when Jimin stares off at the sky is all white, with that clinical feeling except for the fact that he doesn’t look trapped.  Because of that opening above to fresh air. I also noticed a lot of call backs to spring day as well, the sea imagery (where Jimin is holding white shoes in spring day) is hinted to in the video, and Jimin is in a room watching the sky which looks like an oasis/dream /paradise (Is Jimin dead? Ha-ha I’m kidding or am I)

And also a lot of call back to blood sweat and tears, we see the balloon imagery (which is in spring day) that looks like the yellow lollipop Namjoon always has. We also see Jimin get pricked by a yellow cactus (which symbolises maternal embrace) and bleed which is exactly similar to the way Jungkook held his hands in blood sweat and tears after dipping his hand in absinthe. Cactus in Freud's dream book. Cactus in a dream symbolizes isolated and unhappy person, who became very rude and cruel because of own solitude. If you take care for a cactus in a dream, it means that you feel experience the feeling of unrequited love. If in the dream you had to move cactus somewhere, but you could not take it in your hands because of its spiniferous, it means that you have a very squeamish attitude towards some people in your environment and prefer not to touch them; that is how you want to avoid their attention.

The image of the cosmic universe also is linked to many different arts of Van Gogh, and the purple universe imagery below symbolises the idea of an eye, (which is the first thing we notice in this new trailer video).   And we see an eclipse, which again in my opinion is hinting at darkness covering light which in this case with Jimin makes sense, because he always seems happy but deep down as the story goes on darkness surrounds him all the time.

Calico cats are mentioned in the song as well and shown hugged by Jimin (in a way that symbolises innocence in the dingy room which is a call back to V holding that puppy in stigma) Innocence being tainted or being caged? Calico cats are known because you mostly get female cats (With the the name of this album her, that could also make sense), the males are always sterile and normally have issues with health such as brain damage, organ failure etc … So in a great way, Rap monster is giving that imagery that when Jimin says he’s a calico cat he’s not ok, but this girl is his peniccillium (his antidote and cure to every issue he has) Likewise yellow is also the colour associated with mental health and we know that Jimin and the rest of Bts are suffering with issues regarding mental issues.  Calico cats aren’t supposed to exist but they are expensive and worth a lot of money, kind of again like a good coincidence that came out of nowhere.

The song plays around with questioning science and random occurrences and rap monster does such an amazing Job doing this.  

 So overall we’re starting this album with fate? The ‘her’ in question has met our main characters and they’re feeling lucky to have her and she helps them like an antidote. However as we saw in your love yourself highlight reel, we really shouldn’t be expecting things to stay this way.  

Hopefully Bight will be careful with her hearts hopefully.

[sublimotion]

The Most Damaging Food Lie We Have Ever Been Told

http://drhyman.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/mark-hyman-hd-headshot.jpg?v=1.1

Other than the lie that fat makes you fat and causes heart disease (which has been thoroughly debunked by myself in Eat Fat Get Thin, in Harvard doctor David Ludwig’s book Always Hungry, and even in our new 2015 US Dietary Guidelines), the biggest lie that has caused endless suffering for tens of millions of people is that to lose weight you need to eat less and exercise more.

This lie goes something like this: All calories are the same. Weight loss is about math—calories in/calories out. If you eat more than you burn you will gain weight. If you eat less than you burn you will lose weight. This is called the Energy Balance Hypothesis. This seems logical, except it is scientifically wrong. It is the message that our government tells us, the message that almost every doctor, nutritionist, and weight loss program tell us. And, it’s even what our public health and professional organizations tell us, including the American Nutrition and Dietetic Association, the American Heart Association, and the American Diabetes Association (which, by the way, all get huge amounts of funding from the food industry).

The food industry, of course, tells us the same thing. That fact alone should make us suspicious. Weight loss is an energy balance problem. Just eat less and exercise more. It’s just about moderation. Any food is fine as long as you don’t eat too much. The 100 calories snack packs of Oreos are the same at 100 calories of blueberries or nuts. Two hundred calories of soda are the same as 200 calories of an avocado. Nonsense.

In fact, on one major morning show I did a segment about why they weren’t the same and snuck it under the radar working closely with one producer. After that, they wouldn’t let me back on the show. Why? Because the food companies are a major source of advertising revenue. Our news is driven my money, not science or facts.

What is so bad about this message is that it blames the person who is overweight. The implication is that you are a lazy glutton who eats too much and won’t exercise. This is, in my view, harmful, cruel, and even criminal because it flies in the face of science and perpetuates a harmful myth that literally kills millions from chronic disease.   

This implies that a diet of 1,800 calories of soda is the same as 1,800 calories of broccoli or almonds. Even a 5-year-old would understand that this just doesn’t make sense. Yet it is the foundation of almost every weight loss program.

This is not just my opinion, but from an increasingly growing body of literature that proves that all calories are not the same. That quality matters more than quantity. That food is not just energy but information or instructions or code that literally controls almost every function of your body—including your hormones, appetite, brain chemistry, immune system, gene expression, and even your microbiome with every single bite. And that the quality of the information matters more than the quantity. The composition of the food you eat is what matters.

The Science of Why Exercising More and Eating Less is the Worst Idea for Weight Loss

Let’s just look at a few studies (and if you want more you can read my books Eat Fat Get Thin and The 10 Day Detox Diet.

A review of 53 randomized trials (the highest quality evidence possible) of low-fat vs. high-fat diets published in Lancet Obesity found that the high-fat diets won out every time and the bigger the difference—meaning the highest fat/lowest carb vs. the highest carb /lowest fat diets—the more the weight loss.

A recent year long randomized controlled trial in the prestigious journal Nature found that an unrestricted high-fat diet (meaning low carb, high fat, eat as much as you want) compared to a calorie restricted (not so much fun), low fat diet did much better. In fact, the high-fat diet group lost more weight, had better control of blood sugar, and lower triglycerides and better HDL or good cholesterol). And the high fat group got off diabetic medications too!  

Even more research is pouring in about the extraordinary benefits of ketogenic diets (super high fat—70%—and very low-carb diets with no grains, beans, sugar, starch) for weight loss and reversing type 2 diabetes as was recently reviewed in this JAMA article.

A new online company, Virta Health, uses a ketogenic diet to treat type 2 diabetes with more success than any other approach. 87% of patients eliminated or reduced insulin, 56% of patients completely normalized their blood sugar and reversed type 2 diabetes, and the average weight loss at 6 months was 12% of their body weight. All without restricting calories. That is unheard of in traditional calorie restricted low-fat programs.

Food is Information and Quality Matters More than Quantity

And I could go on and on. But the take home message is this: Food is information. Quality matters more than quantity. Weight loss and health depend far more on the type and quality of the food you eat than the calories or amount. In my new book, Food: What the Heck Should I Eat?, I go over exactly what food in each category is the best to eat. Which meat, what dairy, which veggies, what grains, etc. Taking the guesswork out of how to eat food that is good for you, good for the planet and environment, and even good for human rights!

Non-food or food like substances (which is about 60% of American’s diet) is out. This is where I agree with Nancy Reagan. Just say no! It will unhook your brain and palate from highly addictive, health destroying food.  And we are being inundated with ads and marketing for the worst possible food under the guise that it is healthy—low fat, high fiber, whole grains, low sugar, etc.  It’s all bad.

The Corrupt and Dangerous Behavior of Big Food, Scientists, and Governments

Take for example the massive effort by Big Food to ply their junk across the globe through what I think are criminal activities. Nestlé’s developing world product, a drink called Milo, is a combination of flour and sugar and chocolate with the same glycemic index as Coca Cola. Pure junk promoted as a health food.

Milo is huge in Malaysia. Nestlé hired rock stars for a commercial to  promote the drink for performance enhancement in school and sports, plus they  made up this scientifically fabricated concept called an “energy gap”, which they claim affects 4 out of 5 kids. Which is why they need Milo. Watch this ad and cringe. It has as of this writing 18 million views! The New York Times published an investigative report about how Nestlé funds corrupt science, pays off nutritionists, and lobbies and funds government policies in Malaysia, making it the fattest country in Asia. If the International Criminal Court focused on Big Food, they would be in Big Trouble.

In my book out February 27, 2018, Food: What the Heck Should I Eat? I uncover the truth about the food we actually eat—what is healthy and not in each group of foods we eat—meat, poultry and eggs, dairy, beans, grains, veggies, fruit, nuts and seeds, beverages, and more, and guide to you to a science based, sensible way of eating for life that keeps you, our planet, and our society healthy. I also address the environmental and social impact of the food we eat.  

And I take the guesswork out of how to eat food that has the best information, the best quality to make you feel good now and prevent and even reverse illness.

If you have ever woken up wondering what the heck you should eat, this book is for you.  Check out the trailer and order it at Amazon, Barnes and Nobles, or get one at your local bookstore. And get a free video of the 4 biggest food lies out there!

Wishing you health and happiness,

Mark Hyman, MD

[Read More ...] http://drhyman.com/blog/2018/02/07/damaging-food-lie-ever-told/

[abdallahalhakim]

The Most Damaging Food Lie We Have Ever Been Told

Other than the lie that fat makes you fat and causes heart disease (which has been thoroughly debunked by myself in Eat Fat Get Thin, in Harvard doctor David Ludwig’s book Always Hungry, and even in our new 2015 US Dietary Guidelines), the biggest lie that has caused endless suffering for tens of millions of people is that to lose weight you need to eat less and exercise more.

This lie goes something like this: All calories are the same. Weight loss is about math—calories in/calories out. If you eat more than you burn you will gain weight. If you eat less than you burn you will lose weight. This is called the Energy Balance Hypothesis. This seems logical, except it is scientifically wrong. It is the message that our government tells us, the message that almost every doctor, nutritionist, and weight loss program tell us. And, it’s even what our public health and professional organizations tell us, including the American Nutrition and Dietetic Association, the American Heart Association, and the American Diabetes Association (which, by the way, all get huge amounts of funding from the food industry).

The food industry, of course, tells us the same thing. That fact alone should make us suspicious. Weight loss is an energy balance problem. Just eat less and exercise more. It’s just about moderation. Any food is fine as long as you don’t eat too much. The 100 calories snack packs of Oreos are the same at 100 calories of blueberries or nuts. Two hundred calories of soda are the same as 200 calories of an avocado. Nonsense.

In fact, on one major morning show I did a segment about why they weren’t the same and snuck it under the radar working closely with one producer. After that, they wouldn’t let me back on the show. Why? Because the food companies are a major source of advertising revenue. Our news is driven my money, not science or facts.

What is so bad about this message is that it blames the person who is overweight. The implication is that you are a lazy glutton who eats too much and won’t exercise. This is, in my view, harmful, cruel, and even criminal because it flies in the face of science and perpetuates a harmful myth that literally kills millions from chronic disease.   

This implies that a diet of 1,800 calories of soda is the same as 1,800 calories of broccoli or almonds. Even a 5-year-old would understand that this just doesn’t make sense. Yet it is the foundation of almost every weight loss program.

This is not just my opinion, but from an increasingly growing body of literature that proves that all calories are not the same. That quality matters more than quantity. That food is not just energy but information or instructions or code that literally controls almost every function of your body—including your hormones, appetite, brain chemistry, immune system, gene expression, and even your microbiome with every single bite. And that the quality of the information matters more than the quantity. The composition of the food you eat is what matters.

The Science of Why Exercising More and Eating Less is the Worst Idea for Weight Loss

Let’s just look at a few studies (and if you want more you can read my books Eat Fat Get Thin and The 10 Day Detox Diet.

A review of 53 randomized trials (the highest quality evidence possible) of low-fat vs. high-fat diets published in Lancet Obesity found that the high-fat diets won out every time and the bigger the difference—meaning the highest fat/lowest carb vs. the highest carb /lowest fat diets—the more the weight loss.

A recent year long randomized controlled trial in the prestigious journal Nature found that an unrestricted high-fat diet (meaning low carb, high fat, eat as much as you want) compared to a calorie restricted (not so much fun), low fat diet did much better. In fact, the high-fat diet group lost more weight, had better control of blood sugar, and lower triglycerides and better HDL or good cholesterol). And the high fat group got off diabetic medications too!  

Even more research is pouring in about the extraordinary benefits of ketogenic diets (super high fat—70%—and very low-carb diets with no grains, beans, sugar, starch) for weight loss and reversing type 2 diabetes as was recently reviewed in this JAMA article.

A new online company, Virta Health, uses a ketogenic diet to treat type 2 diabetes with more success than any other approach. 87% of patients eliminated or reduced insulin, 56% of patients completely normalized their blood sugar and reversed type 2 diabetes, and the average weight loss at 6 months was 12% of their body weight. All without restricting calories. That is unheard of in traditional calorie restricted low-fat programs.

Food is Information and Quality Matters More than Quantity

And I could go on and on. But the take home message is this: Food is information. Quality matters more than quantity. Weight loss and health depend far more on the type and quality of the food you eat than the calories or amount. In my new book, Food: What the Heck Should I Eat?, I go over exactly what food in each category is the best to eat. Which meat, what dairy, which veggies, what grains, etc. Taking the guesswork out of how to eat food that is good for you, good for the planet and environment, and even good for human rights!

Non-food or food like substances (which is about 60% of American’s diet) is out. This is where I agree with Nancy Reagan. Just say no! It will unhook your brain and palate from highly addictive, health destroying food.  And we are being inundated with ads and marketing for the worst possible food under the guise that it is healthy—low fat, high fiber, whole grains, low sugar, etc.  It’s all bad.

The Corrupt and Dangerous Behavior of Big Food, Scientists, and Governments

Take for example the massive effort by Big Food to ply their junk across the globe through what I think are criminal activities. Nestlé’s developing world product, a drink called Milo, is a combination of flour and sugar and chocolate with the same glycemic index as Coca Cola. Pure junk promoted as a health food.

Milo is huge in Malaysia. Nestlé hired rock stars for a commercial to  promote the drink for performance enhancement in school and sports, plus they  made up this scientifically fabricated concept called an “energy gap”, which they claim affects 4 out of 5 kids. Which is why they need Milo. Watch this ad and cringe. It has as of this writing 18 million views! The New York Times published an investigative report about how Nestlé funds corrupt science, pays off nutritionists, and lobbies and funds government policies in Malaysia, making it the fattest country in Asia. If the International Criminal Court focused on Big Food, they would be in Big Trouble.

In my book out February 27, 2018, Food: What the Heck Should I Eat? I uncover the truth about the food we actually eat—what is healthy and not in each group of foods we eat—meat, poultry and eggs, dairy, beans, grains, veggies, fruit, nuts and seeds, beverages, and more, and guide to you to a science based, sensible way of eating for life that keeps you, our planet, and our society healthy. I also address the environmental and social impact of the food we eat.  

And I take the guesswork out of how to eat food that has the best information, the best quality to make you feel good now and prevent and even reverse illness.

If you have ever woken up wondering what the heck you should eat, this book is for you.  Check out the trailer and order it at Amazon, Barnes and Nobles, or get one at your local bookstore. And get a free video of the 4 biggest food lies out there!

Wishing you health and happiness,

Mark Hyman, MD

[Read More ...] http://drhyman.com/blog/2018/02/07/damaging-food-lie-ever-told/

[script101]

Worst Case Scenario (or "One by one I've watched illusions shattered")

THERE ARE NO SPOILERS. I HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN THE TRAILER. I shouldn’t have put the next episode’s title in the header. That was idiotic. I’m sorry.

I really was going to write off “Lie of the Land” as an aberration.

I got a refund from iTunes (a surprise!) no questions asked.

Twelve has been my favorite Doctor.

I had thoroughly enjoyed every episode until “Lie”. Even though I hadn’t bought “Knock Knock” I didn’t dislike it.

I thought “Extremis” was brilliant.

I liked Pyramid and expected that the problems others had noted in it would be plot points that would have been addressed and resolved in part three. For example, “they needed to be loved” but they clearly weren’t. No problem. They just took that emotion and laundered it towards themselves. The combination lock that didn’t look like anything I’d ever seen, had no indentations for numbers and no Braille markings? No problem. It was a trap. They were intentionally trying to catch a Time Lord. The monks had set a “vanity trap” and Twelve walked right into it. The lock? “Perception filter” The implausibly of the sonic NOT simply opening the door? No problem. See above: it was a trap specifically designed for Twelve. The reason the earth was at its weakest at that particular moment? Duh! It’s protector was afraid to tell anyone he was blind and was still in completely denial of his injury. That would have been moving. Having Bill or Nardole call him out on his inability to trust others and ask why? Cut to the final scene of him and Missy in the prison vault.

Easy peasy.

BUT Toby Whithouse instead wrote intellectually and viscerally offensive garbage.

No problem, as I said, just pretend it never happened.

EXCEPT NOW I CAN’T.

TWELVE’S ABUSE AND MANIPULATION OF BILL IN “LIE” IS CLEARLY A DIRECT PARALLEL TO THE MASTER’S ABUSE AND MANIPULATION OF BILL IN “WORLD ENOUGH AND TIME”

And the events of the last episode are central to the events in the one airing this weekend.

_______

I just read Whovian Feminism’s review of “Lie of the Land”.

I disagree with most of it.

I DO blame the writer, Toby Whithouse. Why? Because if you need non-stop narration from multiple characters, your script sucks. There’s no way around it. If you are writing human characters and those humans do not act or react like humans, your script sucks.

I maintain that the director, Wayne Yip, made every wrong choice possible. Did ya’ not palpably feel the tension caused by the janitor waving the gun around “World Enough and Time” as opposed to the gun being aimed in “Lie” when we KNEW that we were in the room where the “regeneration from the preseason promos” was going to happen?

I am glad that Whovian Feminism noted the cruelty of Twelve intentionally making Bill shoot him, but I’m disappointed that they let the character (and the writer) off so easily.

I had been using the word “Evil” since the Doctor is an imaginary alien from an imaginary planet. I wasn’t keen to “diagnose” him as a psychopath since I have no idea if this fictional species has an orbital prefrontal cortex.

But, since budget means the inhabitants of Earth and the inhabitants of Gallifrey look exactly the same, and since “kin selection” is a real phenomena that (among other things) causes people to feel naturally inclined to protect those who look similar to them, and since Robert Hare has described psychopaths “interspecies predators” who are lacking the moral compass that all but DEFINES humanity, I’m not saying “Evil” anymore.

Maybe Twelve suffered brain damage in “Oxygen”, maybe not, but as of “Lie of the Land” and every episode that followed, Twelve has been a psychopath.

Twelve is no better than the master.

(You might want an “air sickness bag” handy. I’m not kidding.)

I really was going to drop this and just pretend “Lie of the Land” never happened, I WANTED to, but “World Enough and Time” has made it impossible, because the way the Doctor cruelly manipulated Bill for his own comfort and lolz after insinuating himself into her life as a parental figure is directly paralleled with how the Master cruelly manipulated Bill for his own usage and lolz after insinuating himself into her life as a parental figure.

_______

It truly is remarkable how “Lie” managed to push every button it could have pushed.

I’m against the death penalty (I’m sure that was obvious) in all but one instance: treason.

I refuse to give them credit for the reference they were trying to make, but since The Doctor had been given the (laughably absurd) status of “President” of the earth, he was guilty of High Treason (pffft I’d have to make up a term to accurately describe the extent of what he did while under absolutely no duress!).

Twelve specifically had accepted the title of President, and he had accepted the responsibility of protecting the earth. Twelve did not just fail to protect the humans he had agreed to protect for SIX FULL MONTHS (and there was no hint at any mitigating motive despite non-stop narration; awful writing), Twelve actively aided and abetted a malevolent occupation of the planet.

Gaslighting is not funny.

No person should be toyed with to force them into the horrible corner of being judge, jury, and executioner. But this is what Twelve did to Bill. This was his INTENT. “Designed and directed”. Intentionally.

(And yes, Bill was indeed Twelve’s toy in a game for the lolz. We saw the laughing and were explicitly told it was a test. Compare and contrast with the Master’s treatment of Bill in “World Enough and Time”. The only difference is that Twelve is given a free pass for his sin.

Consider the circumstances. Bill had endured six months of extreme emotional duress, we saw she was so far over the edge that she was able to turn on waking daytime hallucinations of her mother with less effort than required to turn on a light, she was the victim of active gas lighting by Twelve because of his propaganda commercials, and this ALL culminated in her being terrorized with the promise of betrayal by Twelve in the white office (he called for armed guards the moment she entered, he pretended to phone the nightmarish monks, and he announced to the room that she was trying to speak to him in code). Each act was terrorizing. Each act was a betrayal. Each act was a knife in the heart that we saw vaporized in “World Enough and Time.”

Because of this, because of the extreme emotional duress Twelve inflicted upon her for absolutely no reason at all, Bill is, in my eyes, NOT guilty of the 1st Degree Murder she believed she was committing. He had committed unthinkable treason, intended to continue his treason, and she knew he could erase people’s memories and that the monks were brainwashing people. She was forced to shoot to kill. Twelve WANTED HER TO. For the lolz.

That crap was inexcusable! Ya know what else was inexcusable? The fact that everything individually and combined was horrifically traumatic but Whithouse’s lazy script couldn’t be bothered to address this.

By giving Twelve a free pass, by having him not recognize and apologize profusely for the psychological torture he inflicted on Bill by manipulating her to serve his own ends in “Lie”, Whithouse made Twelve no better than the Master when he in turn manipulated Bill to serve his own ends in “World Enough”. They would have remained directly related, but Toby Whithouse’s shitty script and Wayne Yip’s shitty directing had the gall to simply try to PRETEND that aiming a gun at someone you love and shooting that person FOUR ::coughFOURcough:: times with the intent to kill that person wouldn’t be deeply traumatizing.

Bill should have had a meltdown. A male character would have had a meltdown too. Because that is what a normal human reaction would be after willfully murdering someone they had loved.

Instead they showed Bill get angry at Nardole (nope, sorry: the audience was explicitly told in “Smile” that “dry brains” thought differently than “wet brains”).

Whithouse lazily tried to distract viewers from the fallout of The Doctor’s disgusting abuse and manipulation Bill with a cheap joke (oh my! Swearing! On my tv machine! How fucking shocking! Oh my, I feel the vapors coming on! Where oh where is my fainting couch?)

Immediately after Bill shot him, she should have had a breakdown.

Before anyone says that I hit the nail on the head and maybe that is the reason for the title of the next episode: yes, maybe we WERE supposed to see a parallel between the despicable actions of the Doctor and the despicable actions of the Master, but I want to point out that THAT DOES NOT MEAN THERE IS POTENTIALLY A DRAMATIC EXCUSE FOR TWELVE TO HAVE NOT CORRECTLY REALIZED THAT THE SPECIFIC DETAILS OF WHAT HE HAD ORCHESTRATED IN THAT ROOM WERE HORRIFICALLY CRUEL AND WRONG….

•while ALSO failing to realize that it was part of a larger pattern of behavior. •while STILL having Twelve not grasp that everything that happened was his fault (how about: The earth was at its weakest at that moment because its alien hero who promised to protect it was too scared to tell anyone he was blind?). •Twelve could have realized IN THE WHITE OFFICE how badly he had hurt Bill while STILL arrogantly claiming personal credit for what Bill did at the end of “Lie” that drowned out the Monks brainwashing. •Twelve could have been completely genuinely sorry for terrorizing Bill in the White Room, could have painfully regretted it, and then STILL made the mistake of hounding Bill and Nardole into the idiotic “Test” of Missy that (appears to have) destroyed Bill.

Indeed, if Twelve HAD been horrified by how terribly he had hurt Bill in “Lie”, if had truly regretted what he had done and apologized and reassured he that she had done nothing wrong (even without recognizing the larger picture of his own arrogance and recklessness), “World Enough and Time” would have worked BETTER. Why? Because without an apology and sincere regret from Twelve after he goading her into firing that gun with the intent to kill him, there is currently no plausible reason why any human would ever trust, let alone be anywhere near, The Doctor again. Male or female, THERE IS NO HUMAN WHO WOULD EVER TRUST HIM AGAIN.

Why does Bill still trust or even still care about the Doctor? Why isn’t she flat out terrified of him? There is no human who wouldn’t have gone home to their foster mom, said, “you were right about that professor”, packed their bags, and attempted to get as far away from him as possible. If her foster mom did as any one would and attempted to go to the University to scream at him and demand to know what he did to frighten her foster daughter so terribly, Bill would only need to say WHAT SHE HAS KNOWN since “Thin Ice”: THE DOCTOR HAS KILLED PEOPLE.

Without Twelve sincerely apologizing for what he did in “Lie” PLEASE explain, in terms of plausible human behavior, why Bill is still spending time with The Doctor?

The ONLY REASON SHE WENT ALONG FOR MISSY’S “TEST” WAS BECAUSE SHE CARED ABOUT TWELVE.

THE ONLY REASON BILL CARED ABOUT TWELVE IS BECAUSE SHE TRUSTED HIM MORE THAN SHE TRUSTED HER OWN INTUITION THAT THIS TEST WAS A BAD IDEA.

For “World Enough and Time” to be plausible without pretending “Lie of the Land” never happened, we needed an apology that was never given.

“Lie of the Land” was shit. The script was shit. The directing was shit. The premise was shit. The episode was shit.

And having seen “World Enough and Time”, I now believe “Lie of the Land” wasn’t simply a bad episode that I can forget and ignore, it was poorly executed deliberate foreshadowing.

Deliberate foreshadowing that unfortunately has no plausible human motivation allowing it to ring true.

Twelve is a psychopath. He crossed The Moral Event Horizon and I can’t just pretend it never happened.

Twelve was my favorite by a mile. Now? I’m disgusted.

It IS possible for them to write themselves out of the 6 foot hole they dug for this character and the entire show. But if I can’t simply write off “Lie of the Land” as no more than a lousy episode with a crappy script that was directed with less artistry than a cell phone video??? All I can say is that Steven Moffat and Rachel Talalay will have needed to have written and directed something capable of fixing this in 50 minutes minus opening and closing music. They will need to have written something far better than I can imagine.

It’s possible.

I hope that they can salvage this. Honestly and with tremendous sadness. I really really do.