#having it a tiny bit better does not a systemic privilege make is my point
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What people often confuse, I think, is the idea that you can have specific benefits in different situations, but that is not the same as having systemic privileges for whatever identity/presentation/assumed identity or presentation that was given benefits.
If you want an example of what I mean, I have experienced some better treatment as people have recognized me as male, but society doesn't offer me systemic benefit because I'm a trans man - my transness, even in a context of being seen or assumed as a man, is not granted to me. I'm not saying that I don't ever get treated better in certain instances where I am seen as a man (even if I'm seen as a cis man), what I am saying is that that is different than systemic privileges. I think that difference matters, since people see systemic benefits as indications that people don't need help, or even that those people need to be "taken down a peg." This viewpoint isn't conducive to helping people, if that's what your goal is.
I use myself as an example just so people aren't confused. This is a complex topic that is, fundamentally, intersectional. If the only voices being heard are one type, we will be coming away with a dangerously narrow view of how social benefits and societal privilege work.
#politics#conditional benefits are still *conditional*#people that treat me better because they assume i am a cis man for example will...#...take that benefit away the picosecond they smell transsexuality on me...#...and i have a hard time believing that is *systemic* benefit on my end y'know#the conversations around societal benefits and how systemic privileges exist are (and should remain) complex and intersectional#and i just don't buy into the idea that minirities should never have *any* benefits because that is 'systemic privilege'#having it a tiny bit better does not a systemic privilege make is my point#and while i do have some benefits granted while i am assumed to be a cis man... i'm still seen as not het and i'm seen as a *queer* man#have probably talked about this before but i still see people doing this so 👍
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BBC Ghosts x Eurovision
No one asked for this (and I’ve already seen a few people discussing this but haven’t seen anyone go into much detail) but here are some headcanons about the ghosts watching Eurovision 2021!! Eurovision has been one of my special interests since I was a little kid so combining it with my current special interest just seems right!!
(Also pls comment your own headcanons or even better send them to my inbox AND also send new headcanon topics for us to chat about cause I’ve missed doing that!!)
- Firstly it’s definitely Mike’s doing,, Alison jokes it’s a bit tacky and kinda cringe and Mike is *deeply* offended insisting the tack is what makes it fun.
- Alison also really enjoys it but also enjoys teasing Mike about his affinity
- Alison shows the ghosts a few YouTube clips of old years
- Kitty, Mary, and Humphrey are all well up for watching straight away,, also Pat but we’ll talk about him in a minute.
- Robin doesn’t really get the point (countries are a stupid idea according to him so having a country based competition where people actually get serious about it is just daft).
- Thomas and Fanny both hate the clips they’re shown and call it the “lowest form of entertainment” they’ve ever seen.
- The Captain is also above it... or so he says but he finds his foot tapping along to Emmilie De Forest and is *horrified* at himself
- Julian is straight away racist,, a comment here about EU bureaucracy, another snipe there about Russia. Alison shuts his complaining down very quickly and tells him he can’t say anything he wouldn’t be happy someone saying about the UK or else his phone privileges will be taken away.
- Pat is the only ghost who has seen Eurovision before (Julian has always refused on principle).
- He used to watch it with his family and put on a proper spread for everyone (cause we all know Pat was the family cook). I’m talking mini sausage rolls, tiny sandwiches, a cheese and pineapple hedgehog (totally not what my family does for Eurovision every year... hmmm) and then also a trifle cause it’s the most English pudding ever and you gotta support the home side.
- (I’m hungry,, can you tell??)
- Once Alison has explained to them how the show works, most of them agree to watch - Thomas once he learns of the beautiful women competing and Fanny the same with the men.
- The Captain however begins taking it very seriously once he starts to realise the tactical elements of it,, while he likes the performances, he spends the entire afternoon rewatching previous years scoring segments making mental notes of what gets support and who votes for who.
- The evening comes round and everyone gathers to watch in the TV room.
- The second the flag parade starts everyone is engrossed - even Fanny can marvel at the spectacle of it.
- (I’m not gonna talk about every performance cause Jeez that’s long but here are what I think everyone’s favourites would be.
- Robin really loves Finland and Italy,, anything loud and rocky he’s straight up off the floor and jumping along (same Robin, same) but he falls completely silent and watches in awe at the Spanish entry because of the giant moon (he then also asks Alison to buy a huge moon for the living room - she’s says she’ll think about it).
- Kitty is fully rooting for Malta - Lizzo girlboss vibes is what Kitty lives for. It’s also helped that Alison expressed quite an interest for that one as well.
- Thomas is expecting to like the pretty girls but absolutely falls for Switzerland straight away. Curly haired, blouse-wearing emotional guy with incredibly dramatic dancing is just 😍😍 for him (same Thomas,, can’t decide if he’s very attractive or if it’s gender envy or what??).
- Julian supports the UK... he thinks the song is shit but cannot bring himself to compliment anyone else.
- Pat is an Iceland kind of guy (ily dadi,, you were robbed #eurovision2020winners) and he fully finds himself trying to dance along, smiling all the way through their performance. He likes the weirder ones,, the ones were everyone is clearly just having a blast.
- Humphrey likes the emotional ones,, Bulgaria is a favourite. Righttttt up until France - he picked up a little French from his wife, enough to figure out what Barbara’s talking about and is just in tears by the end.
- Mary actually finds herself enjoying the more folky, traditionally European ones. This comes back to my Morris/folk dancing Mary so I feel like she’d appreciate like Ukraine and Russia - also for the like strong woman aesthetic.
- Fanny is abhorred by the outfits and music but does join Julian in his reluctant support of the UK, she instead prefers to mutter her abuses of the skimpy outfits to the Captain.
- The Captain is also drawn in by the emotional ones like Humphrey, specifically France again. However, a shaggy and shirtless Damiano David jumping about the place in eyeliner and tight trousers awakens something in him he didn’t know was there. He’s horrified by the group and the loudness and the outfits and everything but is also very much intrigued in a way that disturbs him.
- Mike also likes Italy quite a bit cause he’s an Arctic Monkeys/Killers kinda guy (he is,, don’t @ me cause me tooooo Mike) and Alison tends to agree with him but also, like I said, agrees with Kitty on the girl power ones.
- Once the scoring starts, the ghosts start getting noisier and talking amongst themselves about the acts and who they would vote for (they’re not allowed to vote cause Alison refuses to pay for her dead housemates to get a vote each).
- The Captain edges closer to the TV as the others talk over his beloved scoring system, completed overshadowing the research the Captain has done.
- It ends with the Captain sat cross legged in front of the TV with Humphrey in his lap explaining precisely what was happening to Humphrey.
- When it gets towards the end everyone hushes up and they all watch as Italy win. Most of them celebrate.
- Fanny is greatly disturbed by the winners and laments the state of music these days. The Captain vocally agrees but also can’t draw his eyes from the screen.
- Julian has some very choice words for the public for giving the UK a big fat 0.
- Kitty says she’s just glad that everyone had a good time and enjoyed their performances. She also wishes that she could go to the show (don’t we all).
But yeah that’s my collection of headcanons for Eurovision,, once again proving I am a massive nerd who spends too much time putting together little stories.
Anyway,, if you have any more Eurovision headcanons feel free to comment them or send them to my inbox so I can reply and add to them. Similarly, if you have any other shows/music/events/literally anything that you think I should make ghosts headcanons for or that you have hcs for then send them over to my inbox as well!! Love yall stay safe, drink some water if you’ve managed to read this far :)
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No More Spitting Feathers 02/?
PAIRINGS: Warren Worthington III x Reader WARNINGS: injury, blood, implied drug use RATING: T+, will be raised later. WORD COUNT: 2.2k INSTALLATIONS: Part 01 AUTHOR’S NOTE: Dedication and thanks to Andi @venombxby for discussion and honorary mentions to Monica @rosesvioletshardy and Wella for inspo. This is written in second person bc I have never been able to get on board with Y/N trends, and the reader is a mutant with a limited mix of healing, telekinesis and some empathic inclinations.
The night is never as dark as you’d like in a city, and no matter the hour, night owls are bound to be turning their gaze onto anything that moves above the shadows.
He casts quite a shadow.
Dove.
You don’t speak much after he agrees to go with you. There is a stalemate between the two of you for many minutes before he offers an arm and helps you up, getting you to a more comfortable place in the warehouse to rest until you could stand on your own.
You didn’t think he’d be able to fold his wings enough to hide them, you thought it would hurt too much, but he manages to do it anyway and tucks them away into a long coat that he found in the disused warehouse staffroom, along with a large umbrella that helps conceal him better.
Once you could stand you found a dusty bathroom with running water and managed to clean your arms and face of blood and wrangle your hair into something less dishevelled. You also took off all your absurd jewelry, cleaning it all with hot water and chucking it into the same locker you find a pair of shoes that are too big but are better than trying to walk barefoot.
You get the privilege of draping his leather jacket over your shoulders, which doesn’t exactly keep you warm given the modifications he made to the back to accommodate his wings, but you suppose you’d be colder without it.
You walk in silence side by side for most of the journey, and calling it such is no exaggeration. It only takes half an hour for the pain to creep into his wing again, especially with how he has them folded against his back— you feel it, and have to breathe through the discomfort, the one aspect of your powers that you can’t turn off, but that thankfully doesn’t wipe you out the same way healing or telekinesis does.
It takes three hours, and neither of you seeks a break, somehow knowing that stopping would benefit neither of you. He gets more tired though, but you can tell he relaxes a bit when the city falls away and the trees thicken, and the people and cars become few and far between.
The safe house looks abandoned from the outside, and to your benefit, it has thick overgrowth around its perimeter that provides plenty of privacy. All of the windows are either frosted or boarded up save for the stained glass windows on the old domed church that will be your shelter.
You find the key where you expect it, and as soon as you enter you’re working on autopilot. You throw off the shoes that have given you blisters, walk across the confused space to a large set of shelves and pick out a change of clothes that don’t quite fit but are better than the tiny cocktail dress you’ve had to trek your way here in.
Dove throws off the coat and drops onto the nearest cot, groaning as he stretches out his wings. You shudder from the incomparable empathic impression it leaves in your back. You change without caring if he looks (he doesn’t), putting on the pants and a too-large shirt, collecting a blanket from a crate in the corner and yourself dropping onto a cot not too far from where he’d lain down. You pass out after you heal your blistered feet.
You sleep for eighteen hours.
He sleeps for twelve, and when he awakens he’s hungry and hungover, aching in unpleasant but not unfamiliar ways. You can feel the malaise even though it doesn’t wake you, creeping into your body and your dreams and then fading once he freely navigates the space and finds the food and water kept in the makeshift pantry.
You feel better when you wake, but you’re ravenous, and dig into whatever shelf-stable item seems most appealing— you’re still chewing when you go and find him, having made himself a more private corner to relax in with cushions, two cot mattresses and a few blankets.
Swallowing doesn’t quite soothe the scratch in your throat, and you notice some subtly floating feather particles in the air, leaving you to idly wonder how much he sheds.
“Are you well enough to heal me now?” he asks, filling the silence. You’re not sure if he believes you are, he seems tired and resigned.
“No,” you reply. “Not significantly anyway.”
He levels you with an incredulous look.
You sigh. “I could give myself an aneurysm if I try to heal you too fast.”
“What can you do, then?”
“I could have you flying again in ten days,” you say, “that won’t put too much strain on me.”
His wing, the undamaged one, flutters slightly. “Fourteen.”
“What?”
“Take fourteen days. You were like a rag doll at the warehouse, Häschen, you’re no use to me like that. You think you can do ten days— I don’t have anywhere to be— we’ll do fourteen.”
You look at him for a moment, trying to spot some ulterior motive and figure he must be doing the same.
“Okay, alright. Two weeks.” That’s probably how long you’ll need to arrange extraction anyway.
You swallow again against the scratch in your throat and take a deep breath.
“You need a tour?” you ask, feeling awkward.
He shakes his head. “I looked around while you were sleeping.”
“The church is free-reign,” you say, explaining anyway, “the rest of the building is not really safe, but isn’t off-limits.” You shrug. “The shower room is over there.” You point. “Towels and soap are in the baskets… they’re all labelled.”
“You planning to leave me alone here, Häschen?” he asks, sitting forward slightly and canting his head to the side.
You both react when he strains his wing, and you try to hide your whimper with a cough. His wings shudder and the feathers tighten up, drooping slightly as he sits back against the wall with a slight grunt of pain.
“I want to get some supplies from the store… like better food,” you explain with a shrug. You also want to get him some medicine to tide him over between your attempts to heal him.
“Are you going to walk?”
You shake your head. “There’s a car stored on the property, I have what I need. I shouldn’t be more than forty minutes.”
He doesn’t say anything further, and it feels too invasive to watch him struggle through his pain.
“You want anything?” you ask, already planning to get him some clothes.
“No.”
“Okay. What clothing sizes do you wear?”
The look he gives you is almost a smirk, a raised brow and a quirk of his lip that makes you flush. You look away in embarrassment and clear your throat again.
He tells you the sizes. “You don’t like my clothes?” he asks.
“That’s— that’s not the point,” you say, and motion at him, his pants and boots, the lack of a shirt, the modified leather jacket he’d taken back while you slept. “That’s all you have.”
He shrugs with his hands. “Do what you want.”
“I will.”
“See you in an hour, then.” He seems inclined to give you more time than you think you’ll need.
—
The subtle hiss and splash of water greet your ears from across the echoey safe house when you return. You took less than the hour, but more than the forty minutes to get everything done. You put the bags down on the tables that make up the kitchen (which isn’t much of a kitchen at all. There is an old fridge, two hot plates, a toaster oven and some cookware and dishes next to a deep industrial sink).
There is steam coming from the shower room, and when you get closer with the bag of clothes you got for him, you feel a malaise creep into your body.
“Dove?” you call, but he doesn’t answer.
You put down the bag and go to the door, not sure what you’ll find, but hardly wanting to violate his privacy nor open yourself up to any teasing if you’ve misinterpreted the empathic impression.
A small gasp leaves your lips. His wings are almost totally clean now, free of the dirt and char and blood that had been caked on them— some of which sits over the drain grate to his right. Feathers are missing from his left wing, and it continues to droop, but what concerns you is how he’s kneeling on the floor with his head against the wall, taking in shuddering breaths. The wings hide his nakedness almost completely, but that hardly crosses your mind as you step into the room.
“Dove?” you say again, more urgently now, your new shoes splashing on the wet floor as you cross over to him.
It’s a rather bare room, stripped of all curtains and half-stalls, with only a dozen showerheads set a few feet apart around the space. He has two showers running to cover all of him, and you gasp when you feel how hot the water is, yanking the tap to the left to make it cold and then reaching over him to do the same to the other.
“What are you doing!” your voice is louder than you intend, and he tenses, groaning when cold water penetrates whatever daze he was in. You get down on one knee and grab his face between your hands. He’s hot hot hot, and not just from the water, flushed. He startles, wings jerking and feathers fluffing, and he gives a slight grunt of alarm.
“Hey, hey, it’s me— it’s just me.”
He doesn’t quite relax but he seems to calm, bowing his head slightly and shivering. You carefully reach up to turn off both showers and bring your hand to his neck. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus through the haze and urgency.
“What are you doing…” he says dully, lifting a hand to grasp your forearm. He groans when he feels the initial relief of your healing. “Don’t, you’re not— I’ll be fine—”
“I can handle it, you’re not well,” you reply, almost scolding. He makes a sound of acknowledgement but speaks no further, he keeps his hand on your arm.
You don’t find what you’re looking for, you assumed it would be an infection from the fracture, but his whole nervous system is rioting. You quickly readjust, your fingers pressing against his neck, by the nape. It’s not the healing you expected him to need, but you hadn’t exactly gotten the chance to examine him and come up with a plan. Your healing balances his autonomic nervous system, calming the sympathetic and re-engaging the parasympathetic. He’d need more help than that, you can tell, but easing his distress is your primary goal.
A drop of blood hits the floor, and his hand squeezes your arm. Your nose is bleeding.
“That’s enough,” he says, his voice much more controlled now.
“I’m alright,” you assure him, “I know my limits, I can do a bit more…” You aren’t lying but you know how far you can push yourself before you get as bad as you were last night. You can do more now that you’re touching him too, that always makes you more precise.
His breathing even outs and his heart rate calm, and his head bows in relief after another long moment. Your bloody nose gets worse, but you set him up better this time, stimulating his immune system and provoking a healing response throughout his body, natural pain relief. It would help his body help itself until you could resume your efforts tomorrow.
You move your hand away from his neck and move it to under your nose. The leg of your pants is wet when you stand, and you turn away but he gives your arm a little tug, making you look back down at him. His face isn’t as flushed now, and there’s a different kind of pain in his eyes, something non-physical. Something like guilt.
“I didn’t deserve that,” he says gravely. You slowly pull your hand away.
“You were in distress, I wasn’t going to leave you like that.”
His wings twitch, ruffling carefully. “Some pain deserves to be felt,” he argues weakly. “Especially for something of my own doing.”
“Withdrawal isn’t a penance, Dove.” When he meets your gaze, you think he might be searching for judgement, but he won’t find any. He looks away.
“It’s an unfair strain on you.”
You turn away, still holding your bloody nose. “I can’t just pick and choose what I heal. If you’re sick I can’t fix your wing effectively.” You huff, turning away. “And I’m fine. It’s not as draining when I can touch you… I left you some clothes by the door. If you really don’t want to waste my efforts, you’d better get some rest. Your body can do the work itself until tomorrow.”
You start out of the room deliberately, shoesfalls splashing wetly. As you pass the threshold, the echoey walls of the shower room amplify his quiet words just enough for you to hear.
“Thank you.”
You keep going without acknowledging it.
#warren worthington x reader#warren worthington x you#warren worthington iii#ben hardy x reader#ben hardy fanfic#warren fic.#warren x reader.#my fic.
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Essential Avengers: Avengers #242: “EASY COME... EASY GO!”
April, 1984
“Okay Avengers, the party’s over!”
Being a buzzkill, party-hating Cover Vision!
Hmm. Something about this cover makes it feel like from an older era. The returned Mighty Avengers logo or maybe the inking? Or perhaps the Silver Age DC superdickery energy to it? I can’t put my finger on it but this feels like a cover you’d see in the 70s instead of the 80s.
Last time on Avengers: Well, they went to San Francisco for a two-parter where they fought Morgan Le Fey to save Jessica Drew’s soul. As ya do.
Vision has also been a tube boy after he walked into a null field. Starfox hooked him up to the Titan supercomputer and that didn’t fix him, it did overclock his robot brain and let him broadcast giant holograms of his own head. That’s almost as good.
This time:
Some guy: “HOLY GEEZ!”
An interesting note, this guy has only ever seen Quinjets in pictures and never thought he’d see one in person. Tells you how often the Avengers hang around Ottumwa, Iowa.
We start with the Avengers in mid-return from California.
In one of the Quinjets, She-Hulk is telling Starfox that she wished they could have spent more time before returning to New York so she could have shown him LA.
Starfox: “Ah, well... I’m sure another opportunity will present itself, She-Hulk! Besides, the scenery around her has plenty to offer!”
Wanda looks like she’s trying to astral project away from Starfox putting his hand on her shoulder but she’s really just distracted thinking about Vision.
The Avengers on the Jessica Drew mission radioed back to the Mansion that they were bringing Hank Pym home but Wanda suggested that Hank could examine Vision and maybe fix him. But Vision rejected the idea and Wanda is at a loss for why he’s determined to overcome his robo-paralysis on his own.
I’m also a little confused why they didn’t call on Hank Pym sooner to examine tube Vision but then again that would have been super awkward for Wasp and Reed Richards, that hack, said Vision should have recovered quickly.
Speaking of super awkward, Hank and Wasp are alone together in the other Quinjet.
Hank is also baffled that Vision turned down his help. He repaired him once before! Remember? He got super tiny and had a fantastic voyage inside him? In Avengers #93?
Jan comments that she hasn’t heard Hank sound so confident in years and he confirms that devoting his time fully to SCIENCE and taking superheroing off the table as an option has done wonders for his emotional outlook.
He also reiterates that he never felt cut out for the superhero life. Aw, enjoy it while it lasts, bud.
And he thanks her for calling him Hank instead of “Dr. Pym” like she did at the hospital.
Wasp: “Oh... That. Well, when you flew out at my request to help save Jessica Drew’s life... after all we’d been through... the divorce and all... I’m afraid I slipped into my stuffy Avengers chairwoman voice. I thought it might make things easier, but it didn’t... For either of us. I’m sorry, Hank.”
Hank Pym: “That’s okay, Jan. I understand. Your ‘stuffy chairwoman voice,’ huh? Heh-heh. How often do you have to use that?”
Wasp: “Wellll... Most of the time the others will go along with ol’ ‘dingaling Jan’ -- but sometimes, I have to get tough. That never fails to grab their attention!”
Hank Pym: “No doubt! Once, I was the only Avenger who knew how tough you really were! I’m glad the others are learning.”
Wasp: “I guess that none of us are ever too old to learn, Hank.”
Feels like Hank is rewriting some things in his memories since Jan often had to diminish herself to make him feel better but then again it didn’t always work so maybe the idea is that he knew all along how strong she was?
Either way, nice to see these two interacting so amiably.
Also, I like that she’s able to be an effective leader while still being ‘dingaling Jan’ since it doesn’t change how smart and capable she is. And the contrast if she has to get serious only helps.
I think overall I like that her leadership style is so uniquely her and that when her character was retrofitted to operate outside of being ‘Hank Pym’s partner’ she still remained recognizably her.
We have a whopping several women on the Avengers at this time (glorious) and Wasp, She-Hulk, Scarlet Witch, and Captain Marvel all feel like different characters.
Since Vision declined Hank Pym’s help, Wasp drops him off back home in Central Indiana.
Once these two were husband and wife, friends and lovers. But they were very different people and, without meaning to, they hurt each other very much. Today, they have perhaps put a small bit of that hurt behind them. Today, they have again become friends.
Daaaaw. Friends.
Wasp returns to Avengers Mansion to discover there’s a full-on party going on. There’s even streamers and a Captain America who seems incredibly enthusiastic about streamers.
(In another fun bit, Monica knew about the party already because she flew ahead to the mansion before joining Wasp in the Quinjet after she dropped off Hank. And she was bursting to not tell Wasp what was going on as they landed.)
Wasp is even more surprised when she learns that the party is celebrating Hawkeye’s marriage.
Wasp: “Barton? You mean Hawkeye? Married?!?”
Hawkeye: “‘Fraid so, Jan! I’d like you to meet my bride... Mockingbird.”
Mockingbird: “How do you do?”
Wasp: “Oh... fine. You’ll have to excuse me. This is... quite a surprise.”
A reaction that Mockingbird says she’s getting used to because she’s seeing it from all of Hawkeye’s friends!
Hah!
Hawkeye asks Cap on the sly whether he made the right move, getting married, but Cap is very supportive, saying its the most responsible thing he’s ever done.
Hawkeye: “What?! Cap, you cut me to the quick! Haven’t I always acted in a mature, responsible manner?”
She-Hulk: “Look who’s talking... the man whose proudest achievement is the invention of the water-balloon arrow!”
Provided She-Hulk isn’t just making stuff up, there’s some serious off-screen shenanigans that we didn’t get to see, possibly involving Hawkeye shooting water balloons at She-Hulk all day.
But... CLINT. YOU INVENTED AN ANTI-GRAVITY ARROW!
Why am I the only one who remembers that?
Thor shows up at the party next, back from his own solo adventures, and offers his own congratulations to Hawkeye.
Mockingbird is undergoing some culture shock here, as she’s astounded that Hawkeye calls Thor “Goldilocks.” And when Thor turns his Thor charm on her, and blesses their wedding, she’s rendered briefly speechless.
Its fun that we get this side of her. I think she was similarly blown away when they met Cap on the subway.
But even though she was a SHIELD agent and then a freelance superhero, she doesn’t seem to have a lot of exposure to your Avengers types so Hawkeye pulling her into those social circles is a lot of fun.
She’s going to get used to it though. I know that she Avenges herself in the future.
Also, look at Thor’s flagon of mead. Holy shit. Its as big as his whole torso.
Jarvis is really dedicated!
Over in a quiet corner of the party, Wanda tries to convince Vision to let Hank Pym take a look at him but Vision dismisses the idea.
Vison: “Please, Wanda, let’s not spoil this happy occasion! Surprise parties are all too rare, and few of them are party to as many surprises as this one!”
And instead of explaining what he means, he turns his hologram off.
Well, okay.
AH HA HE WAS REPAIRED AND JUST DIDN’T MENTION
For reasons of surprise.
What a whimsical turn for the Vision.
Aw, that panel of them kissing and everyone cheering is sweet. That’s how I like to remember them. Not, err, later developments.
(I also like Mockingbird being confused whether or not he’s still a hologram because of his intangibility)
Everyone congratulates Vision for being bipedal again.
Vision: “It’s good to be moving, Jan. But my recovery shouldn’t come as that big of a surprise. As I told you a few days ago, it was just a matter of time before I isolated the cause of my body’s motor dysfunctions -- and initiated the proper repair systems.”
But he tosses some sweet cred to Starfox, for hooking up to an alien supercomputer. It’s like matchmaking but with networks.
The surprise of his surprise recovery pales compared to his next surprise, as he announces (without consulting Wanda at all, geez) that its imperative that she and him stay with the Avengers full-time.
All I’m saying is communication is important, Vizh.
And maybe you should have brought this up with Wasp too? She is the chairwoman and as Cap points out, the team is already pretty packed, especially with Hawkeye and Thor back.
Vision: “Yes, the ‘chairman’s privilege’ limit! But you’re not the leader now, Cap... the Wasp is! And she’ll just have to change that limit -- or the membership roster -- to include Wanda and myself! We will be needed in the upcoming emergency!”
Kinda dropping a lot of surprises on this surprise party, Vision! I don’t know if you really get the concept wholly? You’re not supposed to save up all the surprises for this one day.
Also, Vision’s speech bubbles have changed. They’re still rounded rectangles but they’re not yellow anymore and the font is a bit italicized. Hm. Wonder if that means anything.
Anyway, Vision announces that while he was a tube boy, he detected two major fluctuations of Earth’s electromagnetic fields by some “unknown energy of near-infinite power.”
He’s secretly been working with Reed Richards on this and neither of them have been able to track down what this nonsense is. But until this malevolent mystery is uncovered, he and Wanda as two of the more powerful reservists must obviously be active Avengers.
But how does he know its malevolent if he hasn’t been able to uncover what it is? Deductive reasoning and intuitive presentiment!
Pffffft.
I think this might be my favorite recent punchline from this book.
But Vision has more than just bad vibes to be given a frighten by this upcoming ominousness!
Vision: “The energy I detected goes beyond the limits of any known to man! The power flux showed on our screens for a mere fraction of a second, and then disappeared without a single trace. That concerns me... And it should concern all of us! If we cannot discover the source of this energy, there could be catastrophic consequences!”
And to show how seriously he’s taking this, he makes this horrifying face.
He looks like he’s trying to eat Wasp.
I do not care for this. Either the specific panel or the overall idea of someone eating Wasp.
Anyway, Vision and Scarlet Witch goes off to check the super advanced equipment he installed in the monitor room without asking anyone. He’s doing that a lot lately.
Wasp is both annoyed that he went over her head and impressed with his initiative in doing so.
But she has other matters to attend and asks Thor and Cap(tain America) head down for a private meeting with her.
And now the party is kind of over!
Yeah, you ruined it, Vision! You put too many surprises on the surprise party! You could have saved some for later!
Vision and Scarlet Witch went off to the monitor room. Wasp, Cap(tain America), and Thor went off to have an executive meeting. And Hawkeye and Mockingbird slipped away from their own party not long after that!
Leaving Captain Marvel, She-Hulk, Starfox, and Jarvis to stand around awkwardly wondering where the party went. They didn’t even cut the cake yet!
Dammit Vision!
Hawkeye snuck out to the garden behind Avengers Mansion that’s been there all along. And Mockingbird followed to see what’s bugging him.
Hawkeye: “I’ve always loved this spot. Great tree, isn’t it? Ya know, it’s not easy to get an apple tree to grow this big in the city!”
But Mockingbird sees through that and asks what’s really his beef.
Hawkeye: “Aw, it’s just that I can see another membership shuffle in the works!”
Mockingbird: “So?”
Hawkeye: “So, I’m the one most likely to get bounced!”
I like the range of Hawkeye emotions here.
Hawkeye says that since he has a life (marriage) outside the Avengers now, he doesn’t mind so much being cut from the team. But if they’re going to be facing the latest and greatest menace of all times, he wants to face it with them!
Mockingbird: “That was pretty profound... for a guy who’s supposed to be a butt-head!”
Hawkeye: “Well, thank you, Mrs. Butt-head!”
Aww.
This is a fun bit too.
Mockingbird asks if Hawkeye wants to go inside and get some cake but he shoots an apple from the tree and offers Mockingbird one.
Pretty slick, Clint.
Over at the monitor room, Vision is really into monitoring whatever is upcoming. Super into it. So Wanda has to ask a question.
Scarlet Witch: “Darling... Are you sure you’re all right?”
Vision: “What sort of question is that?”
Scarlet Witch: “You’ve been acting so peculiar lately!”
Vision: “Wanda, how do you expect me to act? I’ve just recovered from spending what seemed like an eternity in a life support tube, able to move about only as a holographic image! Before that, my body was possessed by the dying sorcerer, Necrodamus. And that was almost immediately after I’d gone through the agony of losing an arm. Thankfully, the Inhuman scientists of Attilan were able to restore my limb. But you must admit we’ve both been through a score of trails these past few months! And now, I’ve detected something which could be the biggest menace we’ve ever faced! All things considered, is it really so surprising that I’m acting this way?”
Huuuuuh. I mean, he has a point. That’s a lot of shit in a very short time frame to endure.
This could very reasonably be a reaction to it all.
That’s a very unnerving smile though.
Over at the not-secret but private just Wasp, Thor, and Cap(tain America) meeting, Wasp, Thor, and Cap(tain America) are meeting.
Well, really, its more that Thor is recapping the tale of Beta Ray Bill for the other two. But we, the readers, just get an editor’s caption telling us to read Walter Simonson’s Thor (and I don’t need to be told twice) and Thor summing up to the salient point that Donald Blake is gone forever and is definitely never going to come back multiple times.
What Cap takes from this is ‘hey i hope that means you’re back on the team then!’ which Thor affirms.
Thor: “Aye, Captain America! Some of my finest hours have been as an Avenger. It would be the greatest honor to continue my service in your company... if you will have me!
But Wasp isn’t going to dump Thor from the roster!
Problem being, what the heck is she going to do with the roster? She doesn’t want to dump anyone off it, she doesn’t want to tell Vision to eff off, but she doesn’t want to lead an unwieldy team either. Six is a good number of Avengers!
I love Wasp’s note paper where she’s scrawled various roster ideas, clearly getting more and more frustrated with the exercise.
Cap suggests that maybe a temporary expansion would be the best move, if there even is a menace!
He’s somewhat doubtful of Vision’s story but wouldn’t you know it, as soon as he says that, the priority alarm goes off because Vision has detected the Ominous Energy Readings again.... IN CENTRAL PARK!
And lest anyone doubt Vision this time, an enormous and blinding flash lights up the Manhattan skies.
Cap: “I... believe you, Vision.”
Hah.
The Avengers head for Central Park with devices that Vision has created that will help them trace the energy but he could have saved the time.
There’s a big obvious structure that wasn’t there before. Odds are pretty good that that’s the anomaly.
Hmmm... Y’know, that structure looks familiar. As if I’ve seen it somewhere... But wheeeeeeeeeerre. I guess its a secret to everyone.
The sudden appearance of a large structure right after a massive flash isn’t even the weirdest thing going on. As Reluctant Science Guy Starfox waves around the detecting device, he realizes that the Ominous energy isn’t coming from the giant structure. It seems to be coming from everywhere. But it dips as you get closer to the structure.
Starfox posits that the energy is being focused on the ring from another location.
Curiouser and curioserer.
The Avengers poke around some more. Hawkeye calls attention to an arch built into the wall of the structure. It’s just real interesting. It’s super, incredibly interesting. Plus, the air is nice in the arch.
And it’s an arch. It looks like it’d be a doorway or tunnel to the middle of the structure but it doesn’t go anywhere.
Huh.
How fascinating.
She-Hulk, Cap(tain America), Captain Marvel, Wasp, and Thor join Hawkeye in the arch and agree that it’s a pretty interesting arch.
Perhaps this arch was made for them.
As soon as they join Hawkeye in it, there’s another blinding flash of light and those Avengers vanish in a curl of smoke.
Wow.
I can’t believe Hawkeye, She-Hulk, Captains America and Marvel, Wasp and Thor are dead.
Huh. And Wasp was just complaining about having too many Avengers!
Everyone is appropriately shocked by this, especially Vision because there were no energy emissions coming from the thing so it should have been inert.
Scarlet Witch and Starfox wonder whether the missing Avengers have been teleported somewhere, into some other story... or destroyed.
But before they can investigate the structure for clues, or see if it’ll strike again?, the whole thing vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
The plus side is that it makes Starfox lean toward ‘teleported’ which still doesn’t answer where the Avengers have been taken or who would do it.
If it’s the Collector again, I swear!
Here we go... Follow @essential-avengers because I thought I had more time! Oh geez, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this... Also, like and reblog because I like to think I do good work.
#Avengers#Ominous Energy#the Wasp#Captain America#Captain Marvel#monica rambeau#the Vision#Scarlet Witch#Thor#She Hulk#Hawkeye#Mockingbird#Starfox#Vision ruins a party but not how you'd think#Jarvis is the world's best butler#Everyone's shock and alarm that Hawkeye got married#frequent culture shock for Mockingbird#Essential Avengers#essential marvel liveblogging
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You know, I've seen plenty of great ideas for Amphibia x TOH swaps, but there's one thing I haven't seen anyone point out yet. If Luz takes Anne's place and goes to Amphibia, then she gets something she's always wanted at the start of TOH: Being part of a prophecy.
…That is, a VERY interesting concept, not gonna lie!
The thing about Luz’s fundamental issues prior to meeting Eda was… She really had a problem with distinguishing fantasy from reality, learning to set the boundaries between the two, and fully respect said boundaries. She wasn’t malicious of course, but regardless…
This is an interesting ask because we don’t know yet how the prophecy will unfold and be revealed within the show, or even its exact nature! But regardless, this is making me imagine Luz meeting the Plantars, and… Really, I can see Hop Pop’s more down-to-earth nature helping Luz learn to distinguish fantasy from reality, to an extent. Especially since Hop Pop himself is lowkey like Luz in that they’re very unorthodox heroes who don’t quite save the day the way they expected to; But their methods are –usually- valid. Such as Hop Pop accidentally inspiring a revolution among the Frogs, or that time he served as a martyr for those tiny frogs, with his mistreatment by the Hasslebacks being the final injustice that pushes them to fight back and defend themselves, without having to rely on any outsiders to do the work for them. Then there’s him projecting a Noir Film onto his search for Sal, to the point where he straight-up kills an innocent man…
And, that’s making me imagine Luz and Hop Pop kind of bonding over this (not the murder though), especially with Hop Pop’s failed dreams of becoming an actor. I can see Luz being pretty sympathetic and a lot more involved in Hop Pop’s stint with Renee Frodgers, a lot more than Anne did- And considering we see her try out for Romeo and Juliet at one point, maybe she also has a taste for theater herself! Not to mention, all of this discussion of confusing fantasy with reality is just reminding me of Marcy… Specifically, the speculation of Marcy low-key seeing her time in Amphibia as more like a videogame with its tropes, to a potentially harmful extent as she might not treat this situation as a very real one with actual stakes and living, breathing people.
Of course, the thing to remember is- Luz takes a lot of initiative in her own character development, too! She’s a receptive person and self-reflects. I feel like even if she never met Eda, it wouldn’t have been out of the question for Luz to still resolve her own issues… It’d have just been a much more difficult and tedious journey, especially if Luz had to go through that Reality Camp. But regardless, when you remember that Hop Pop also goes through similar character development, albeit more around the Season 2 timeframe… With Hop Pop making the conscious decision on his own to call out Renee on her thievery, without Anne nor any circumstances goading him into it, because he’s a very moral character at heart…
Maybe Luz could have issues like Marcy. It’s worth considering if Andrias is manipulating and feeding into Marcy’s dreams. But regardless, I see Luz and Hop Pop working together, mutually, to get past their own issues, well before the prophecy is revealed- And we still don’t know when that’s going to happen! Maybe Luz and Hop Pop could be a duo reminiscent to Luz and King during Sense and Insensitivity. I can’t say for sure if Luz’s character development will be as potent by the prophecy’s reveal, as she is as of the Season Finale in HER show… I think Eda is ultimately a wiser character than Hop Pop, and characters like Willow and Amity serve as neat narrative contrasts/foils to Luz’s own antics. Though, I can imagine Luz getting caught up in shipping Sprig and Ivy, and possibly the fallout of this leading to a lesson or two…
But in the end, as I said- Luz has a good heart, and she goes around to do the right thing, in the end. She’s like Hop Pop in that regard, and of course there’s also the existence of Sprig and Polly, not to mention what a fellow weirdo like One-Eyed Wally might have to say, here or there. I guess a lot of it depends on the exact context of how this prophecy is revealed, and how it even works… But I see Luz as being grounded by the more down-to-earth Wartwood, well before she gets to Newtopia. This does raise the interesting idea of her possibly backtracking on her character development, especially with Marcy’s influence and Andrias’ potential manipulations…
And yet, I can see Luz still turning around to do the right in the end, just as Hop Pop did; Even when his dreams DID come true, and he became a renowned actor! I think Luz would come to the conclusion that even being ‘chosen’ by some divine force doesn’t really make her any better than anyone else… Not to mention that the people and world she’s saving is still very much its own thing, not beholden to her. So I see Luz accepting the mantle of being a hero, if only because she’s a good person and of course she’s not going to let something bad happen… And I can imagine the Plantars helping to gently nudge and remind Luz of her past lessons, to not get confused with fantasy and reality again. The prophecy would definitely be a twist antithetical and contradictory to Luz’s character development, given how she’s being transplanted into a different show with different themes, originally intended for a different protagonist…
But, if Marcy is going to learn her lesson and get past her own issues –assuming those specific issues ARE a thing of course- then I can see Luz being a guiding light and force for her… Maybe the two mutually navigate past potential delusions together, who knows? I’ve speculated in the past how Luz would handle the revelation of having powerful magical heritage... How Luz would truly show off her character development by rejecting even this seemingly objective, tangible cosmic reason for her being special, and still asserting her equal standing with everyone else. Even when placed on top of the hierarchy, Luz rejects it, showing how much her lessons mean to her. I can see Andrias trying to set Luz up to agree with his hierarchy under that concept of divinely-ordained ‘specialness’, and how it’d all just tie into Luz working to abolish the caste system with Hop Pop.
I can see it being a contrast to Sasha and Grime, who want to topple the current Newt Hierarchy… More than likely, so they can switch it around with Toads on the top. Not exactly the most helpful change, in the end… Luz decides that instead of reversing the roles, it’s best to just get rid of the roles entirely. It could play into a discussion of privilege, and it’d be interesting to see how Luz, Marcy, and Sasha would all bounce off of one another- Sasha low-key has her issues with dismissing the people of Amphibia, and once talked about ‘having fun’ there. Obviously her respect for Grime has changed this a lot… But there’s still that willingness to conquer what she fully recognizes now as an actual civilization of people. She would certainly take the revelation of a prophecy as full justification that she was never wrong about anything, and that Sasha is of course entitled to taking over Amphibia- Especially if Grime feeds into this both out of genuine support and his own desires.
Then there’s that idea of Sasha and Grime enabling one another to be worse, even if they also still go through a little bit of positive character development… And as for Marcy and Andrias, I can’t quite say because the latter is still quite the enigma. Either way, Luz has to serve as a grounding force for the other girls with Hop Pop’s help… And really, it sounds like the set-up for total chaos, a battle royal, a complete free-for-all with every Amphibian and Human for themselves as they navigate one another amidst the backdrop of this prophecy. If we want to apply Luz’s motif and themes of being a guiding light for other characters in her own show, I can see her forcing Sasha and Marcy to confront the reality of what they’re doing… And I think interactions between her and Grime would be fascinating, as she’d be VERY much in favor of toppling the monarchy- But specifically to undo the hierarchy entirely, instead of switching it around to the Toads’ favor. If Sasha and Grime enable one another, perhaps Luz will have to act as a voice of reason and buffer between the two- And again, it depends on how Sasha and Grime’s character development goes.
Overall, this sounds like QUITE the debacle, and I’m kind of fascinated, imagining how these different characters with different motifs, meant to be compatible with narrative parallels and contrasts, amidst the themes of their particular show; And how they’d adapt and fit into another show’s cast and themes! Anne taking Luz’s place in the Boiling Isles would be interesting, given how Anne has clearly internalized Sasha’s idea of ‘knowing what’s best for someone you care about’, and how this seems to be a recurring trend amongst people like Emira and Edric toward Amity, Lilith with Eda, etc. And, I guess I could go into a whole ‘nother discussion of how Eda has to help Anne recover from this low-key abuse and toxicity, and Anne having a similar moment of standing up to Sasha with those characters, possibly citing her own experiences… But, that’s probably a discussion for another time, I think. I guess it depends if I have the time and energy for it, and my cyclical focus aligns just right…
#the owl house#owl house#amphibia#the owl house luz#luz noceda#amphibia hop pop#hopediah plantar#speculation#meta#ask
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🔥 takarazuka *hides*
Anon, do you want me to be MURDERED?
Okay, I want this to be emphasized: I LIKE Takarazuka! I do! And I have friends who are Zuka fans and I love hearing them talk about Zuka/watching Zuka musicals with them! 1789 Zuka was basically what got me back into loving 1789, and getting into Zuka was a good stepping stone for getting into Toho. The costumes and production value are excellent, and I give them full credit for their reputation as a Japanese cultural icon and the current leading musical theatre troupe in Japan.
HOWEVER, I also think that they routinely bank on that reputation in order to have a “style over substance” approach - Exemplified by the Top Star system, which often focuses on capitalizing on the popularity of one or two stars while underdeveloping other characters and, on top of that, due to the privileged position of otokoyakus compared to musumeyakus, it often comes with quite a bit of sexist baggage as well. (See: Solène’s song being given to Camille in 1789, Dmitri getting “Journey to the Past” + his own solo song in Anastasia, Guinevere having a mental breakdown in La Legende Du Roi Arthur + having her father threaten to honor kill her, Emma’s characterization in IAFA being flattened so that she can still be palatable, not having had a boyfriend before, not being as assertive, not being as casual when she’s around Josi even though the entire point of her relationship with Josi IS that she’s able to loosen up around him.)
And to some extent....no, I don’t expect, in the case of an adaptation, for EVERYTHING to remain the same, and in a lot of musicals, I think it was, genuinely, for the better - 1789 is much better than its French counterpart, partially DUE to the star system because it forced them to give multiple minor characters songs to create a solid ensemble musical, as is Don Juan. I do believe that there’s a problem where, when people see Zuka musical adaptations, they’ll miss the forest for the trees, complaining about plot details being changed without considering the broader cultural context. (See: Robespierre.) That being said, I do, fully, believe that we can and should be allowed to talk about sexism in particular. And, if we want to talk about Japan’s relationship to sexism in particular....Toho, while it’s made its share of slip-ups (Solène), has been doing perfectly fine with stronger female characters as well. Zuka relies on fan loyalty to do the bare minimum so that it can get pats on the shoulder for making progress (though I WILL say, in its defense, that it does have to keep up fan loyalty as well, so I know that it can’t go TOO far but...) Just have the top star wink at the camera in an important scene and people will keep coming, no need to talk about the sexism here, keep it rolling, keep giving the right amount of fanservice, toss some glitter on the problem. We don’t need character development, we don’t need plot, make it kawaii and sparkly and it’s fine! (And I want it noted, before anyone suggests that I’m forcing western feminism onto Japanese media, that a lot of my understanding of this has been formed by talking to Japanese friends.) There have been some Strong Zuka Heroine, but some of them seem....generically “empowered” without really having all that much to show for it, still being palatable, dainty, poised, and lovable, even if they might initially reject the Zuka hero’s advances. You couldn’t have, say, Margrid Arnaud in a Zuka musical, as grimy and gremlin-like as she is - You still can’t really have female characters who are PEOPLE.
It’s also very hard to be a Zuka fan as someone who’s very much a fan of MUSICALS because in general, within about a month or two, the bulk of fan attention tends to go to the next big project, especially since Zuka is constantly producing new musicals (exhausting its stars to the point where most top stars only last around 3 years which, tbh, can’t be mentally or physically healthy), and, for me, six months is barely enough time for me to fully decide my basic opinions on a musical - It usually takes that long, in the case of double-casts, for me to decide which I like more. To the Zuka fandom’s credit, I DO regularly get, say, likes and reblogs on gifsets from older productions, but, for the most part, there’s very much this constant moving from one show to the next while I tend to stay put and stan a few shows at a time.
And, of course, as a Toho fan, it’s difficult because I generally get this feeling of Toho being....inferior. People will boast about spending upwards of $500 on Zuka merchandise, going to Japan to see shows, but when it comes to paying for Toho shows, suddenly ~$125 is too much and I should give my DVDs to them. I will gladly watch Zuka musicals with friends because I like watching new musicals + hanging out with friends, but SUDDENLY, when I want to watch Toho musicals, I have to qualify them by what former Zuka stars are around. Toho musicals don’t get much appreciation - all we get is people wanting Zuka/complaining about Toho because it includes men (which makes me feel SUPER awkward as a bi woman, ngl) and then, when we want a tiny bit of recognition, getting a shoulder shrug and “well, girls do it better.” (Note: The Toho girls are doing quite well in their own right - Just ask Aya Hirano, Sonim, Erika Ikuta, Natsumi Kon...) And, of course, that’s not including musicals from other theatre companies, it’s just that, frankly, any recognition Toho’s gotten in the last few years has been purely because me and a few friends/mutuals have been working our tails off to give it that recognition, while Zuka gets more while doing less.
And the fandom, in general, isn’t willing to hear a SINGLE critical word against it, maintaining a policy of intimidation, fear tactics, and guilting in order to keep people silent while getting pissed off at minor faux pas that, unless you’ve been around the block, you wouldn’t *know*. And, for my part, I don’t have a general policy of outwardly TRASHING musicals, but I also fully believe that, when you’re asking people to spend upwards of a hundred dollars on a proshot (or to spend the time to watch a +2 hour musical), they should know, bluntly, what they’re getting. I swore, a long time ago, that I would never sugarcoat how I really felt about a Toho musical if asked because, as far as I’m concerned, people deserve to know the truth from my perspective. I won’t hide, for example, that I feel like Hanafusa Mari's acting hasn’t been solid for close to a decade and that Kaname Ouki’s Marie Antoinette’s been known to cause dogs to spontaneously break out in howling fits, because I want to be as trustworthy as possible. I’m happy for the friends I’ve made in the fandom, I wouldn’t trade them for the world, and I do enjoy the musicals that I’ve gotten into, but I wouldn’t dare go further into the fandom than that.
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Title: A Trembling Of WC: 1800
“How’s that for love?” — Tildy Maguire, For Better or Worse (6 x 23)
He loves her and he fears her. These are the anchoring points of their relationship—the anchoring points of his whole world, these days, and three words from a city employee should not be able to pry them up and set the two of them adrift. Proof of divorce? Nothing in this or any other universe should be able to pry them up and set the two of them adrift, and yet here they are. He loves her no less—he could never love her any less—but right now, he fears for her, and that is a rip in the very fabric of reality. But how can he do otherwise?
Here she is, silent in the back of the cab. She has not said—will not say—one word as they lurch their way through the horrors of late afternoon traffic in Manhattan, and he’d like to think it’s the inadequate privacy offered by the plexiglass barrier that has sealed her lips. He’d like to believe that she’s so enchanted by the memory of the days when Paul Sorvino or Joe Torre or Eartha Kitt reminded New York taxi passengers to buckle up, take their belongings, get a receipt before exiting the back seat, she has nothing to say about the present. He’d like to believe that three words from a city employee have not fundamentally altered her lovable, fear-inspiring self, and yet . . .
Here she is, finally home, and yet there is nothing like relief here. There is nothing like relief anywhere in sight. Here she is with her head in her hands, and they’re telling his mother, they’re telling his daughter, because they kind of have to tell them. They very probably are kind of going to have to tell everyone, but this tiny test balloon at him is so awful.
His mother—she of the child-producing one-night stand with a probable sociopath is volubly incredulous: Who is Rogan O’Leary? His daughter—she of the lease with the bee-counting, continent-hopping, passport-losing peace disturbing Pi is volubly appalled: And you married him? He of an untold number of colossal mistakes in the personal and professional realms, in the public eye and in private, is damnably smug: And here I thought you were a one and done kind of girl.
He regrets it the instant it’s out of his mouth. He bounces around the tattered remnants of reality. He goes back in time and regrets it, except there is a moment, there is an instant, there is the merest spark of absolute fury behind her eyes, and he feels the world come right. He feels reality knitting itself back up again. He feels himself quaking in his bespoke boots, secure in the knowledge that she will make him pay, and he is fine with that. He is absolutely fine.
He loves her and he fears her, these are the anchors of his entire world, gloriously restored, and that is just as it should be.
*****************************
He loves her and he fears her and he loves her just that little bit more when everything fearsome about her is directed at someone else. Oh, how he loves being able to watch the fireworks from minimum safe distance, so he’s excited when she sets off for Willow Creek. He’s racked with guilt and uncertainty, too, because she’s going alone and he worries that it’s self-flagellation—that it’s an occasion to be afraid for her—but ultimately, he’s excited.
She is determined when she leaves. She has her keys clutched in her fist and she won’t take an overnight bag.
“Not even a toothbrush?” He turns up the innocence. It’s a calculated risk. It’s more fuel for the fire that burning in her, fierce and bright now, and it works.
“Not. Even. A toothbrush.” She enunciates each and every letter. She grabs the front of his shirt with her free hand and reels him in until they’re sharing air molecules. “Won’t need it.”
And then she’s gone, but not gone.
She is on the other end of the phone as soon as she has hunted down her soon-but-not-soon-enough-to-be ex. She is fierce, roaring as she rails against the stupidity of the quest he’s sent her on.
“Like he’s the damned Wizard of Oz,” she snarls.
“More like the Wizard of Id,” he quips. He’s thinking about being eighteen and all primitive instinct. He’s thinking about drunken nights on the strip and impulse weddings. He’s not really thinking, and it’s fuel for the fire. He swears she’s scorched his ear, she’s scorched the whole side of his brain closest to the phone, so maybe that’s a little too much fuel.
Except he thinks that might be what sustains her through the abduction of Rogan, through the indifference and grudging pity of the local constabulary. He tells himself on his own frantic drive up to Willow Creek that he’s managed to make her spitting mad enough that she’s not sitting there, alone, with her head in her hands.
It’s true. It’s mostly true that she’s down to embers when he gets there, but there’s more than enough Logan-related fury to go around. There’s coma wife and the sheer madness of digging through his pornographic electronic mash notes. There are bikers and strippers and a murderous mob boss. There is an entire Logan-based mad, mad, mad, mad world and she is definitely mad about it.
She is quick thinking and—other than a few slightly moist moments about the dress—she is laser focused on getting this done. She is mean to Logan, and after the whole Man Parts contretemps, that is a delight and a turn on and the world turning beautifully on its axis precisely as it should turn.
She is a warrior goddess, hell bent on marrying him—him—and he is blown away by that honor and privilege.
He loves her. He fears her. He’s going to marry her.
*********************
He loves her. He just loves her. It’s hard for them to part ways in stupid Willow Creek, but there’s really nothing for it. She has her car, and he has his. He has to get to the city. He has to start the paperwork on its warp speed journey through the system, and she has to get to the Hamptons to figure out what she’s going to wear.
“I’m all for nothing at—“
She cuts that off with a twist of his ear that takes him right back to the beginning—right back to when she was Our Lady of Smug, patron saint of the One and Done Girl—and that makes it really hard to part ways, because he would love to get in some last-minute fear and trembling in one back seat or the other before she makes an honest man of him. He really would but there’s just no time. He has to settle for backing her up hard against the driver’s side door of her car and kissing the life out of her. He has to settle for the same as she backs him up hard against the passenger side door of his car where it’s pulled up alongside hers. They have to settle for peeling their bodies apart, breathless, eager, and reluctant, all at once.
“Be safe,” she breathes, her forehead pressed against his. “Hurry, but be safe.”
“You, too.” He steals one last kiss, then hurries around the hood to slide behind the wheel, to get on with it.
He’s not three miles down the road when his phone rings through the car’s bluetooth. He feels an eager grin spread across his face as he thumbs the button. “Miss me already?”
“No,” she retorts immediately, adamantly. “Yes,” she admits slowly, reluctantly. “Shut up,” she orders, shooting an arrow of fear right through his heart, though it softens—it downright melts—when she adds, “Keep me company.”
He does. He keeps her company, though there’s not a lot of heavy lifting involved. She wants to talk—a positivity rarity for her—and other than her, there’s little he loves more in this stitched-up, much-mended reality than to listen when the mood strikes her. So he listens as she wanders far and wide, as she roams through the month or so of Rogan, and when the time is right, he is going to have so many follow-up questions about where Eddie Vedder’s jean jacket wound up and exactly how far she can chuck a hoagie while running down the strip full tilt.
It’s not all fun and games, though. How could it be? But it’s okay. He loves her. He loves her, and when it comes to the place where this was always leading, he’s there. He’s on the other end of the phone. He’s listening.
“I was married then. When my mom died.” Her voice is even. It’s controlled, though he can hear her heaving a shaky sigh. “I told her the whole saga.” Another shaky sigh.”Almost the whole saga with Rogan. We laughed about it.” There’s a silence long enough that he’s worried the call has dropped, but her voice fills up the speakers again. “I feel like I have to . . . confess to her or something. Give her a chance to say I told you so. I feel like I owe her that.”
It’s a heartsore place for things to land. He doesn’t have a joke or anything gallant locked and loaded, but that doesn’t feel right anyway. He’d tear another hole in the fabric of reality if he could. He’d give her closure. He will give her closure if he can—a trip to her mom’s grave with her hand in his, a letter written and burned, its ashes scattered on the wind, whatever she wants, he’ll do.
“I’m okay, Castle,” she says quietly, she says knowing he was wondering. “Really.”
“I know you are,” he says, and it’s true. “I’m glad you are.”
That’s true, too, in the most comprehensive sense. He is glad she’s okay. He is glad of whoever, whatever, however she is in any given moment.
He hears the road beneath his own tires, the road beneath hers. She stays on the line, though she is quiet now and a little sad. She wants things he can’t give her—he hasn’t yet devised a way to give her—and that’s a little maddening. But she is more than okay, and he is more than okay with that. She is fierce and fear-inducing and lonely for her mom and a little bit raw right now.
He loves her and he fears her. He has the twin anchors for his whole world on the other end of the line. That’s as it should be.
A/N: A group of finches is called a trembling. That is a thing. This is not a thing. It is an uneven atrocity, not a thing.
images via homeofthenutty
#Castle#Caskett#Castle: Season 6#Castle: For Better or Worse#Kate Beckett#Richard Castle#Martha Rodgers#Alexis Castle#Johanna Beckett#Fic#Fanfic#Fanfiction#Fan Fic#Fan Fiction#Writing#Interrogatives?
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I recently read The Camp Half-Blood Confidential for the first time and while most of it made me cringe, there was one story in particular that really made me cringe: Space Could Be An Issue.
For those of you who haven’t read it, the premise of Space Could Be An Issue is this: Annabeth is in charge of designing and building the cabins for the children of minor gods/goddesses but it appears that there’s no space for all of them!
What is an architect to do?
Annabeth suggests treehouses or houseboats and both are shot down by Chiron, who says the nature spirits would never allow it. Good thing that there’s no spirit of grass or open field, otherwise they’d never be able to build anywhere, right? Annabeth suggests caves; because why not just dump all those extras in a cave. Chiron shoots her down again; there’s only one cave and it belongs to the Oracle. Damn. Well what about stacking the cabins on top of each other? Parents associated with the sky can be on top and parents associated with the ground can be at the bottom. What? That seems a little bit...classist? No. Of course not. The real reason that won’t work is because demigods can’t cohabitate. You heard it from Chiron! All of your ships are invalid because demigods of different “families” can’t live together in peace.
Never fear! For Annabeth is here to save the day! Her latest idea is for small and low profile tiny houses. Her words, not mine. (I was going to make a sarcastic comment here about how, after fighting a war for equality, it’s a good idea to put the “lesser” demigods in places that are small and low profile...until I realized that Annabeth wasn’t fighting a war for equality, she was fighting for the continued reign of the Gods and therefore inequality because she ultimately privileges from the system no matter how often she cries mommy issues).
Anyway...The tiny houses are two stories; with a living area that sleeps two, a bedroom loft that sleeps two, and a bathroom. So four demigods per tiny house. Somehow there’s storage beneath the beds in the living area, which are the kind that pull out of the couch. Not sure how that works since normally the bed goes in the “storage area” when it’s in couch mode. And there’s a single closet beneath the stairs for more storage. The bathroom is the coolest part of the whole thing but it’s never mentioned if there’s a shower in those bathrooms or just a toilet and sink.
If you put four of these tiny houses together, they’re the size of one major demigod cabin. Isn’t that so funny. How you need four tiny houses for demigods but can’t build a regular sized cabin. Ha! Hilarious!
Which brings up a question. How big are the original twelve cabins anyway? The Hermes Cabin is so over crowded that kids need to sleep on the floor. Poseidon’s Cabin has nothing but six bunk beds (and later a small saltwater fountain) in it. Meanwhile, the Athena Cabin has multiple smart boards, work desks, a library, and a small armory on top of the beds. They’re clearly not all made equal (and that’s not even getting into the fact that the Hermes Cabin is literally falling apart).
Why does the size of the Athena Cabin matter, though? It matters because none of the other cabins are used for anything other than sleeping and chilling when there aren’t activities. The Athena cabin is so disproportionately huge and ironically high tech compared to the other cabins (WHY DOES RICK HATE THE HERMES CABIN?!). Okay, but they’re using it as a school. Why would you use a cabin as a school room?! Because those kids are supposed to be “geniuses?” So they don’t have anywhere in camp to just relax? It’s always work, work, work for the Athena kids, huh?
Where would you put the school? Oh I don’t know. Maybe the Big House, which only ever has two people living in it despite being three stories tall and super wide and easily the biggest building on the property. Ah, the Big House, where the occupants are always outside on the porch and the only interior mentioned is a living space with a ping pong table, Chiron’s office, and the attic used to stash the Oracle and other useless shit no one wants to look at. Why in Hades would you put a school room there? Think of the ping pong table! Relax! It was just an idea.
Hang on, we’ll come back to this. Now I want to bring up the decorating of cabins. The tiny houses also have the ability to be decorated however the occupants want, with only a single touch, which means that maybe the demigods of Nemesis want neon green walls despite Nemesis having nothing to do with neon green. Or the children of Iris are going through a Goth phase and decide all the walls should be black. Why does that matter? Because all of the other cabins are decorated according to godly parent. The demigods who live in the major cabins are extremely limited in what they can do with decorating because of “tradition and respect.” In fact, Percy and Tyson only add two decorations to their cabin: the aforementioned saltwater fountain and hippocampus figures on the ceiling. Which are both related to Poseidon. Despite some of the major cabins having been rebuilt, they were rebuilt to be exactly the same as before.
Which leads us to two points:
1.) The cabins aren’t shrines to the gods. These cabins aren’t sacred temples to the gods. The gods don’t care what happens in them or to them. They don’t care if they’re broken or overcrowded. They don’t care if the kids are fucking in them or if they’re digging tunnels underneath them or putting curses on them. The gods already have statues of themselves everywhere and most of them have a separate place in Camp that could be considered to be “their” place (Hephaestus and the forges, anyone?).
2.) Hera and Artemis’ cabins should both be nixed completely. Hera, as a goddess who will never have demigod children, doesn’t need a cabin on principle. She only has a cabin out of politeness, not necessity. And I can hear your protests already but no, Artemis shouldn’t have a cabin either. Her hunters have magical tents that they live in every other day of the year except for the one day out of the summer that they stop by Camp Half-Blood. That’s two cabins that regularly stand empty - one 100% of the time and one 99% of the time - and take up valuable space for people who actually need it.
Speaking of cabins that are usually empty: Poseidon and Zeus dont have more than one or two kids at a time (despite Zeus being a slut) so their cabins don’t actually need to be as big as the other cabins. Percy mentions that upon arriving at Camp Half-Blood, there are a couple hundred kids. More than half of them “disappear” during the first winter. Some die over the course of the series. Then the camp gets a huge influx of demigods; both the ones that came from Kronos’ army because they were pardoned and the previously unclaimed demigods.
Annabeth suggested stacking cabins on top of each other, which is a stupid idea for so many reasons (only one of which is pointed out to her and I listed another one), but she was actually on to something.
Except instead of making each floor for a different group of Godlings, what if, hear me out now, you bulldoze every single Cabin. (You get a tent! You get a tent! No, just kidding about the tents unless you’re a hunter of Artemis.)
Bulldoze the existing Cabins so that you’re starting from scratch (Annabeth, take some damn notes). Rebuild without Hera and Artemis’ Cabins. You never know when Zeus and Poseidon are going to get horny now that they’re technically allowed to reproduce again, so make their Cabins the same size as all the others (if you must). Rebuild the Cabins so that they’re a smidge narrower and a lot taller. That’s right! Slap two or three floors on top of those suckers! Make! Everyone! Fit! Give! Them! Space! No! More! Sleeping! On! The! Floor!
But what about the disabled - THERE ARE NO DISABLED DEMIGODS. Not even a single one! Everyone can climb stairs! Everyone! All the time!
Well that’s...true (and ableist) but what about Chiron? Shouldn’t he be able to get into the cabins? Chiron already can’t get into the cabins. He couldn’t get into the original twelve, he can’t get into any of the new ones.
Which brings me to the final, and possibly most important point. GIVE THESE KIDS PRIVATE BATHROOMS FOR FUCKS SAKE! If everyone thinks it’s a good idea for the tiny houses to have “personal” bathrooms, then give them to all of the cabins. No more communal showers! No more hazing other campers in the public toilets! No more getting eaten by harpies because you had to pee after curfew!
This way everyone is equal. No one has a better space or more space than anyone else. Everyone gets to decorate how they want. No one is going to die on the way to the bathroom. Because even though the war was ultimately about maintaining the status quo, Percy and Luke both said “no, this isn’t right and too many are suffering because of it and things need to change.” One traded his life for it, the other traded immortality for it.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk.
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2019 & 2020
Hello everyone! So yeah, this yearly blog post is about three... four months late... it covers two years now.
I did have a lot of things written last year, last time, but the more things have changed, the more I’ve realized that a lot of things I talked about on here... were because I lacked enough of a social life to want to open up on here.
In a less awkwardly-phrased way, what I’m saying is, I was coping.
Not an easy thing to admit to in public by any means, but I reckon it’s the truth. Over the past two years, I’ve made more of an effort to build better & healthier friendships, dial back my social media usage a bit (number 1 coping strategy), not tie all my friendships to games I play, especially Dota (number 2 coping strategy), so that I could be more emotionally healthy overall.
Pictured: me looking a whole lot like @dril on the outside, although not so much on the inside. (Photo by my lovely partner.)
To some degree, I believe it’s important to be able to talk about yourself a bit more openly in a way that is generally not encouraged nor made easy on other social networks (looking at you, Twitter). I know that 2010-me would be scared to approach 2020-me; and it’s my hope that what I am writing here would not help him with that, but also help him become less of an insecure dweeb faster. 😉
Not that recent accomplishments have stopped me from being any less professionally anxious. Sometimes the impostor syndrome just morphs into... something else.
Anyway, what I’m getting at is, the first reason it took me until this year to finish last year’s post is because, with my shift in perspective, and these realizations about myself, I do want to keep a lot more things private... or rather, it’s that I don’t feel the need to share them anymore? And that made figuring out what to write a fair bit harder.
The other reason I didn’t write sooner is because, in 2018, I wrote my "year in review” post right before I became able to talk about my then-latest cool thing (my work on Valve’s 2018 True Sight documentary). So I then knew I’d have to bring it up in the 2019 post. But then, I was asked to work on the 2019 True Sight documentary, and I know it was going to air in late January 2020, so I was like, “okay, well, whatever, it, I’ll just write this yearly recap after that, so I don’t miss the coach this time”. So I just ended up delaying it again until I was like... “okay, whatever, I’ll just do both 2019 and 2020 in a single post.”
I think I can say I’ve had the privilege of a pretty good 2019, all things considered. And also of a decent 2020, given the circumstances. Overall, 2019 was a year of professional fulfillment; here’s a photo taken of me while I was managing the augmented reality system at The International 2019! (The $35 million dollar Dota 2 tournament that was held, this that year, in Shanghai.)
If I’d shown this to myself 10 years ago it would’ve blown my mind, so I guess things aren’t all that bad...!
I’ve brought up two health topics in these posts before: weight & sleep.
As for the first, the situation is still stable. If it is improving, it is doing so at a snail’s pace. But quite frankly, I haven’t put in enough effort into it overall. Even though I know my diet is way better than it was five or six years ago, I’ve only just really caught up with the “how it should have been the entire time” stage. It is a milestone... but not necessarily an impressive one. Learning to cook better things for myself has been very rewarding and fulfilling, though. It’s definitely what I’d recommend if you need to find a place to start.
As for sleep, throughout 2019, I continued living 25-hour days for the most part. There were a few weeks during which I slowed down the process, but it continued on going. Then, in late December of 2019, motivated by the knowledge that sleep is such a foundational pillar of your health, I figured I really needed to take things seriously, and I managed to go on a three month streak of mostly-stable sleep! (See the data above.)
Part of what helped was willingly stopping to use my desktop computer once it got too late in the day, avoiding Dota at the end of the day as much as possible, and anything exciting for that matter... and, as much as that sounds like the worst possible stereotype, trying to “listen to my body” and recognizing when I was letting stress and anxiety build up inside me, and taking a break or trying to relax.
Also, a pill of melatonin before going to bed; but even though it’s allegedly not a problem to take melatonin, I figured I should try to rely on it as little as possible.
Unfortunately, that “good sleep” streak was abruptly stopped by a flu-like illness... it might have been Covid-19. The symptoms somewhat matched up, but I was lucky: they were very mild. I fully recovered in just over a week. I coughed a bit, but not that much. If it really was that disease, then I got very lucky.
(Pictured: another photo by my lovely SO, somewhere in Auvergne.)
My sleep continued to drift back to its 25-hour rhythm, and I only started resuming these efforts towards the fall... mostly because living during the night felt like a better option with the summer heat (no AC here). I thought about doing that the other way (getting up at 3am instead of going to bed at 7am), and while it’d make more sense temperature-wise, that would have kept me awake when there were practically no people online, and I was trying to have a better social life then, even if had to be purely online due to the coronavirus, so... yeah.
I’ve been working from home since 2012! I also lived alone for a number of years since then. For the most part, it hasn’t been a great thing for my mental health. Having had a taste of what being in an office was like thanks to a couple weeks in the Valve offices, I had the goal of beginning to apply at a few places here and there in March/April. Then the pandemic hit, so those plans are dead in the water. I wanted 2020 to be the year in which I’d finally stop being fully remote, but those plans are now dead in the water.
Now, at the end of the year, I don’t really know if I want to apply at any places. There’s a small handful of studios whose work really resonates with me, creatively speaking, and whose working conditions seem to be alright, at least from what I hear... but, and I swear I’m saying this in the least braggy way possible... there’s very little that beats having been able to work on what I want, when I want, and how much I want.
This kind of freelance status can be pretty terrifying sometimes, but I’ve managed (with some luck, of course) to reach a safe balance, a point at which I’ve effectively got this luxury of being able to only really work on what I want, and never truly overwork myself (at least by the standards of most of the gaming industry). It’s a big privilege and I feel like it’d take a lot to give it up.
Besides the things I mentioned before, one thing I did that drastically improved my mental health was being introduced to a new lovely group of friends by my partner! I started playing Dungeons & Dragons with them, every weekend or so! And in the spirit of a rising tide lifting all boats, I managed to also give back to our lovely DM, by being a sort of “AM” (audio manager)... It’s been great having something to look forward to every week.
Something to look forward to... I’ve heard about the concept of “temporal anchors”. I had heard about how the reason our adult years suddenly pass by in a blur is because we now have more “time” that’s already in our brains, but now I’m more convinced that it’s because we’re going from a very school routine such as the one schools impose upon us, to, well... practically nothing.
I thought most of my years since 2011 have been a blur, but none have whooshed by like 2020 has, and I reckon part of that is because I’ve (obviously) gone out far far less, and most importantly there wasn’t The Big Summer Event That The International Is, the biggest yearly “temporal anchor” at my disposal. The anticipation and release of those energies made summer feel a fair bit longer... and this year, summer was very much a blur for me. In and out like the wind.
I guess besides that, I haven’t really had that much trouble with being locked down. I had years of training for that, after all. Doesn’t feel like I can complain. 😛
(Pictured: trip to Chicago in January of 2019... right when the polar vortex hit!)
Work was good in 2019, and sparser in 2020. Working with Valve again after the 2018 True Sight was a very exciting opportunity. At the time, in February of 2019, I was out with my partner on little holiday trips around my region, and, after night fell, on the way back, we decided to stop in a wide open field, on a tiny countryside path, away from the cities, to try and do some star-gazing, without light pollution getting in the way.
And it’s there and then that I received their message, while looking at the stars with my SO! The timing and location turned that into a very vivid memory...
I then got to spend a couple weeks in their offices in late April / early May. I was able to bring my partner along with me to Washington State, and we did some sightseeing on the weekends.
(Pictured: part of a weekend trip in Washington. This was a dried up lakebed.)
After that, I worked on the Void Spirit trailer in the lead to The International. In August, those couple weeks in Shanghai were intense. Having peeked behind the curtain and seen everything that goes into production really does give me a much deeper appreciation for all the work that goes unseen.
Then after that, in late 2019, there was my work on the yearly True Sight documentary, for the second time. In 2018, I’d been tasked with making just two animated sequences, and I was very nervous since that was my first time working directly with Valve; my work then was fairly “sober”, for lack of a better term.
(Pictured: view from my hotel room in Shanghai.)
For the 2019 edition, I had double the amount of sequences on my plate, and they were very trusting of me, which was very reassuring. I got to be more technically ambitious, I let my style shine through (you know... if it’s got all these gratuitous light beams, etc.), and it was real fun to work on.
At the premiere in Berlin, I was sitting in the middle of the room (in fact, you could spot me in the pre-show broadcast behind SirActionSlacks; unfortunately I had forgotten to bring textures for my shirt). Being in that spot when my shots started playing, and hearing people laughing and cheering at them... that’s an unforgettable memory. The last time I had experienced something like that was having my first Dota short film played at KeyArena in 2015, the laughter of the crowd echoing all around me... I was shaking in my seat. Just remembering it gets my heart pumping, man. It’s a really unique feeling.
So I’m pretty happy with how that work came out. I came out of it having learned quite a few new tricks too, born out of necessity from my technical ambitions. Stuff I intend to put to use again. I’m really glad that the team I worked with at Valve was so kind and great to work with. After the premiere, I received a few more compliments from them... and I did reply, “careful! You might give me enough confidence to apply!”, to which one of them replied, “you totally should, man.” But I still haven’t because I’m a massive idiot, haha. Well, I still haven’t because I don’t think I’m well-rounded enough yet. And also because, like I alluded to before, I think I’m in a pretty good situation as it is.
It’s not the first encouragements I had received from them, too; there had been a couple people from the Dota team who, at the end of my two week stay in the offices, while I was on my way out, told me I should try applying. But again, I didn’t apply because I’m a massive idiot.
(Pictured: view from the Valve offices.)
To be 200% frank, even though there’s been quite a few people who’ve followed my work throughout the years, comments on Reddit and YouTube, etc. who’ve all said things along the lines of “why aren’t you working for them ?”, well... it’s not something I ever really pursued. I know it’s a lot of people’s dream job, but I never saw it that way. I feel like, if it ever happened to me... sure, that could be cool! But I don’t know if it’s something I really want, or even that I should want?
And if you add “being unsure” to what I consider to be a lack of experience in certain things, well... I really don’t think I’d be a good candidate (yet?), and having seen how busy these people are on the inside, the last thing I want to do is waste their time with a bad application. That would be the most basic form of courtesy I can show to them.
Besides, Covid-19 makes applying to just about any job very hard, if not outright impossible right now. And for a while longer, I suspect.
(Pictured: the Tuilière & Sanadoire rocks.)
I’m still unhappy about the amount of “actual animation” I get to do overall since I like to work on just about every step of the process in my videos, but well. It’s getting better. One thing I am happy with though, is “solving problems”. And new challenges. Seeking the answers to them, and making myself be able to see those problems, alongside entire projects, from a more “holistic” way, that is to say, not missing the forest for the trees.
It’s hard to explain, and even just the use of the term “holistic” sounds like some kind of pompous cop-out... but looking back on how I handled projects 5 years ago vs. now, I see the differences in how I think about problems a lot. And to some extent I do have my time on Valve contracts to thank a LOT in helping me progress there.
Anyway, I’m currently working on a project that I’m very interested & creativefuly fulfilled by. But it has nothing to do with animation nor Dota, for a change! There are definitely at least two other Dota short films I want to make, though. We’ll see how that goes.
Happy new year & take care y’all.
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A Biden presidency would be worse for the long-term goals of progressives in the United States than a second term for Trump would be.
So now that I’ve gotten your attention with a title like that, I should explain what I mean.
There are some posts going around progressive Tumblr that I’ve seen that amount to “hey, Biden isn’t all that bad, you should vote for him,” and I want to offer a counterargument.
The short answer: conservative Democrats hate you, and if Biden wins, they will never listen to a single thing that progressives and socialists have to say ever again.
The long answer: did everyone just forget that politicians lie to score brownie points, and fail to live up to their promises? This is a thing that politicians are infamous for doing. But now that Joe Biden has very suddenly released a list of progressive platforms that he “”“intends”““ to realize while in office, everyone has forgotten that.
Let’s be frank about Joe Biden’s record. He supported segregation way past the point of it being a dominant position. He was good friends with arch-segregationist Strom Thurmond, to the point of delivering the eulogy at Strom’s funeral.
Joe Biden acted as the architect for the modern war on drugs in many ways, including the use of harsh prison sentences for tiny amounts of drugs, both of which are currently being used to terrorize black and brown communities and uphold what is essentially a system of legalized slavery.
Joe Biden acted as a bag man for the banking industry during his time as senator for Delaware, consistently killing any legislation that might prevent banks to avoid taxes by basing themselves in Delaware.
Joe Biden supported the war in Iraq. This alone should be disqualifying.
Given his record, his sudden adoption of progressive policies should be interpreted as being a little suspicious. He is representative of the conservative wing of the Democratic Party, which has done little to oppose the worst excesses of modern capitalism, and has, in fact, done a great deal to exacerbate those failures. But now, there’s a more progressive wing; a wing that the conservative wing has routinely expressed their opposition towards, from Nancy Pelosi dismissing the Squad to Hillary Clinton’s assertion that Bernie Sanders never got anything done.
Do you really think that these people are suddenly going to adopt all those progressive policies, just as it looks like their guy is winning the race?
If you answered “yes” to that previous question, I think I have a bridge to sell you.
The Democratic Party believes it does not need to go left, because in their minds, there is nowhere else for progressives to go. American politics are expressly designed to make third parties an impossibility, so if progressives have nowhere else to go, then they don’t actually need to cater to those progressives in any way other than lip service. That’s what these promises amount to: lip service. I promise you, the second a Biden presidency takes power, all of those promises will go out the window. What’s more, progressive political forces will be ignored. After all, there’s nowhere else for them to go, so in the minds of the conservative Democrats, they cannot represent a meaningful threat to the Democratic party.
Of course, they’ll posture towards progressivism. But they’ll do so without actually making it happen, which will poison the politics around it. I believe that Justin Trudeau has done more harm to left-wing politics in Canada than any conservative politician, because his posturing towards progressive positions angers and energizes the right, but his politics fail to achieve left-wing goals.
And that’s the other side of why a Biden presidency would do so much damage. The right is going to think you’re a communist no matter what you actually do; think of what they did to Barack Obama, another man who ran as a progressive but governed as a conservative. It would energize the American right, it would sap the power of the American left, all the while the centrists prevent any meaningful change and the situation in the US just gets worse and worse.
And that’s the brutal reality. Neither Trump nor Biden will make the situation better. Both will make the situation worse in their own special ways. There’s no chance in hell that the Democratic party would actually make an effort to prevent the caging of children at the border, or the Gestapo-like behaviour of ICE; they’ve had four years to do that, and they’ve done nothing aside from complain about it, even when they’ve held Congress.
The fact is, the current Democratic party knows that progressive ideas are popular. But they have no intention of actually realizing those ideas, or fighting for any position, really. They maintain power through fear, by telling voters again and again that to expect anything better is a sure road to defeat, that the only way to win is to pick the most milquetoast, conservative candidate possible. They hate us progressives far more than they hate the Republicans; they can take the moral high ground over the Republicans, but we can take the moral high ground over them. Therefore, they will never change, unless forced to.
So, what’s my conclusion?
Just don’t vote.
I can already hear people calling me a privileged brocialist for suggesting that anything is more important than beating Trump, probably some people who are going to say that I don’t actually care about people and just want my team to win. To those people I say: I do care about people. That’s why I’m making this argument. A Trump win and a Joe Biden win hurt the American people in their own ways, and while a Biden presidency might help a bit in the short term, the long-term consequences will be disastrous.
I don’t want to be right. It would be fantastic if Joe Biden starting putting out progressive policies all over the place, and started listening to the progressive wing of the party. But I don’t think that’s a realistic assessment of the situation. Everything I’ve seen leads me to a different conclusion: Joe Biden will not help us.
So that’s why I say to not vote.
Because there’s a possibility that if the Democratic party loses here, they might actually start to consider that they actually need to move left in order to remain relevant. They will curse and spit every second of doing so, but it might convince them that serving progressive interests is necessary, that they can’t just rely on progressives caving to pressure and voting no matter what. It might force them to come to the table.
For my evidence, I turn again to Canada, and to the province of Quebec. People often wonder why Quebec gets so much attention in Canadian politics. It’s a large province, sure, but the sway it has on federal politics vastly outweighs its size. Some have suggested political correctness overrepresenting French Canadians, others have suggested political tradition, given how long Quebec has been a part of Canada.
I suggest that it’s because Quebec turns on a dime, politically speaking.
Basically every federal election in Canada of the past few decades has seen Quebec switch almost entirely from one party to another, sometimes inexplicably. The fact is, no party can call Quebec safe territory, and if the Quebecois feel like their needs are not being met, they tend to go for an entirely different party. Party loyalty isn’t really a thing in Quebec. So when election season comes around, every party is clamouring for Quebec’s attention, and after the election, they put in a lot of effort to make sure that the Quebecois like them. This means actually following through with their election promises.
The same is true for swing states in America. If you want politicians to meet your needs, then you need to make it clear that you might vote for them, but only if they’re serving your needs.
It’s gonna hurt like a sonofabitch, it’s true. But if you want progressive policies to have any hope of reaching the halls of power, it is your obligation to not vote in the American election in November, to demonstrate to the conservative wing of the Democratic party that victory is only possible by giving progressives a seat at the table. That can only be done by showing them what happens when they don’t have it.
Also, don’t vote for Trump to spite the Dems. That’s actually moronic. Just don’t vote.
#never biden#politics#us politics#bernie sanders#socialism#yeah it's a long post#but goddamnit#i needed to get this off of my chest#the democratic party is not your friend#no political party is your friend#they are organizations which seek power#you should treat your relationship with them as transactional#you only support them#if they support you#otherwise they're just gonna take your vote and never actually help you#treat this as a boycott#like you'd boycott a business that you dislike#force them to do better
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I took this from my Facebook: I'm in a mood this morning so let's go and cover a few things! Now, I'm not black, so I may not be the most clear and concise about some of it, but damnit I'm gonna do my best on the points involving race. Also, if any of this offends you or some shit, don't even open your mouth, I don't have the patience to deal with you, stay quiet and ignore my page, or maybe even better yet, unfriend me!
White privilege: White privilege is real. I'll admit, there was a time a few years ago, I didn't think it was and I didn't understand what people meant when they said it. but now I do. and it's a real fucking thing. people need to grow up and shut the fuck up with their whining. we do have privilege just based off our skin and that needs to be recognized. We need to use that privilege to fight back and support the black community. if we don't use that privilege we are no better than the cops and others who abuse their power because we are staying silent while they do it. Silence only lends itself to the oppresser. Now, you may ask after reading that, what is white privilege? "White privilege refers to societal privilege that benefits white people over non-white people in some societies, particularly if they are otherwise under the same social, political, or economic circumstances." The most relevant example of this right now? Not having to fear for your life just because of your skin color when you get pulled over or stopped by cops.
Black lives matter: Now, I've seen some of y'all say "but all lives matter!" ...shut the fuck up. No one ever said they didn't, they're saying that black lives DO matter. All lives won't matter until ALL lives matter, and right now black lives espcially don't matter to a good amount people, which is why people are fighting to make them matter as they should. As the example that's been going around lately, take houses. Oh yes, all houses are important, but if one of them is on fire, it kinda makes sense for the firefighters to put out the fire at that house instead of spraying down all the houses, right? Some of you want to be oppressed so badly you scream "all lives matter!" or "straight pride!" (as another example). Be fucking thankful you don't need a movement just to be treated as a human being based on your skin. And it's not just about George anymore. He was the spark, the shot heard round the world this time. It's about all the black lives lost, it's about the years of racism, it's about the affects of slavery and segregation we still see today, it's about so much more.
Protests vs riots vs looting: Not all these people are the same. Protesting is included in our FIRST amendment, meaning that when the founding fathers were thinking of what they wanted, that's what they thought of first and as being the most important. The protesters now are marching for black lives and other things such as police reform. Many (most) of them are trying to stay peaceful! It's so widespread now because it's been ignored and shoved down before. So now they're taking to the big cities in mass, making it so they are HEARD! You wanna say they're inconvincing people or shit, well good. That's the point. Protests, even when peaceful, aren't meant to be comfortable. They are there to get a message across. Now, there's been cases of the protests turning into riots. Occasionally it has been started by the protesters. And that's because they're angry, and fed up with not being heard. I'll pull out an analogy a good chunk of y'all will understand, even if it's fictional. Remember in Hunger Games, when Katniss put flowers around Rues body, and District 11 started to riot? It's like that. These people are angry, tired, frustrated, and hurt, and they've been ignored when they've tried to be peaceful, so now they're doing what they KNOW will get attention. But despite this, most of the riots aren't started by protestors, especially POC ones. No, most of them are started by white people getting big heads and wanting to say "FUCK DA POLICE/AUTHORITY" or even the cops themselves. Most people that start destroying property are white, and usually black people try and stop them from doing it. And then you have the cops. Destroying medical supplies, firing rubber bullets and tear gasat peaceful protesters, physically pushing them, etc even when they have NO reason to. And before you cite MLKs peaceful protests, many of those ended with the cops setting dogs on the protesters or spraying with fire hoses or beating them with batons. And this leads to riots because it riles people up, they get even angrier. And then you have the looters. Most looters aren't even with the protests, and instead are trailing behind them to loot stores because they know the protesters will get the blame. Oh, and cops have been documented looting too.
Cops: now, this one is really touchy, but let's go and I'll try and articulate it best I can. There can be cops that do good for their community, have good intentions at heart, but here's the thing. Our justice system, especially the cop part, is corrupt in one way or another, and has many flaws. It needs fixed. These people may join with good intentions, but they are joininga system that is inherently bad. And before y'all want to try and start shit with me over this, I just took a semester long class over this. The system has racism ingrained into it's core, even if people don't realize it. That's why the current system needs dismantled and a new one that will actually do good needs put in place. There's so so so much that ties into it, such as better mental health treatments, community outreach programs, and more. With the current system, cops are not meant to help people, but rather control them, even if they don't realize it. Do you know why we have so many shows about cops? Have you ever heard of Dragnet? Dragnet was originally started to show the cops in a good light because people were not happy with cops, so they started making propaganda, yes, that's what it truly is, to make the cops look good, to make them out to be these pillars of righteousness and whatnot so they could start getting the public on their side. And thus the long and still strong tradition of cop shows are around, whether it be reality TV like Cops, or complete fiction like Law & Order. And even if these shows do make steps to address shortcomings of the police system, their roots are still in propaganda. Circling back, you also have the cops that stand by and do nothing. As I said earlier, silence lends itself to the oppresser, and when cops don't speak up, they are doing the same.
Children (and pets/animals) at protests: Here's the thing. people bringing their kids and pets are more than likely bringing them to PEACEFUL protests. Now you may say, "well they should know it could turn violent!" ...It's called a peaceful protest for a REASON. Ok, let's say it does turn violent? Cops are still directly targeting children. And even if they aren't, they see the kids, and instead of rethinking what they're about to do, they still do it, they still mace and tear gas those kids. And guess what? Some of them aren't even with the protests! some of the kids that have been maced and tear gassed have been with their BYSTANDER parents as they have to pass through the area to get to their homes or wherever. like the little girl whose mom was driving them somewhere and they got caught in tear gas the police had been throwing, and were gassed out of their car. as the mom was trying to take care of her daughter a cop came up to them. the mom said (screamed) "she's just three" multiple times, and that they weren't at the protest, just trying to get home, and despite that, the cop looked directly at the little girl and then threw the canister directly at her, causing it to blow up in her face. And the police animals. I agree, those animals should not be subjected to pain. It is not their choice to be there, they don't know what they're doing, they're just doing as trained. I've seen people get more upset about the police animals than I have kids, and you cry that parents choose to bring their kids. Well, cops are choosing to bring their animals. Neither kids nor animals on either side should be getting hurt, hell, no one should, the protests are meant to stay peaceful.
Protesters going missing and other things: Multiple protestors have magically "disappeared", unlawfully arrested, or detained without food, water, etc. and who knows what else. This should not be happening. These people aren't just disappearing, they shouldn't have to fear for basic rights or even for their fucking lives when exercising their first amendment right. Curfews have been a big issue. A curfew will be announced just a few minutes before, or get changed so people get caught outside with no where to go, thus getting arrested. Or like in Chicago, where the bridges were raised so they had no way to leave. Or other places where they are blocked in so they technically violate curfew. Or places where protesters are told to clear out or they'll get arrested, and instead of giving them time to leave, they start arresting them right away. Or what about when people are sitting there, just trying to talk to the police, hands up, and are still arrested?
There's so much more I could say, but I do want to leave off with this. So many ask why young people are so involved with this. we have been raised on a diet of Hunger Games, Divergent, Avatar: The Last Air Bender, Harry Potter, Steven Universe, and so much more. We have been taught to fight back injustice and oppression, to make our voices be heard and to help make others voices be heard. We have been raised by parents to speak out and defend ourselves. We have already lived through pain and suffering in our short lives, and we are tired of it. So we are damn sure going to fight back and try to make this shitty little world even a tiny bit better for whoever we can. We are told this is the land of the free, and that we can be whoever we please and get to live our lives as we see fit, and damnit, we are going to make that happen for ALL of us.
#blacklivesmatter#black lives fucking matter#black lives count#black lives have always mattered#black lives are important#black lives matter#black lives have value#black lives movement#justice for george floyd#justice for floyd#blm movement#blm protests#protest
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So now I’m intrigued: what ARE your thoughts on Tumblr’s purity culture and its mob mentality that you mentioned in that “positivewhiteculture” post? If you don’t mind being asked that?
Ok so this is gonna be rambling as fuck but like ...
Sometimes I see great potential allies being attacked and destroyed for making ignorant mistakes and sometimes for even asking the “wrong” questions in their effort to learn.
Often I see people defending their harsh reactions to someone like this as “I’m suffering, I don’t owe them an explanation for why what they said was wrong, if they don’t get it then they’re an enemy, I don’t have to explain or justify shit” and while I can understand it and I used to believe it myself, I honestly don’t think it’s the right thing to do, at least not when someone’s being ignorant instead of outright malicious.
You see, no, not everyone will automatically unlearn prejudice, not everyone will automatically unlearn racism, not everyone will automatically know what is and isn’t wrong or right. That shit takes time and effort and, yes, god forbid, knowledge gained from people who have experience with those things.
And I see people being like “well if you genuinely wanted to learn, you’d go out and look for this information” but like ... that’s exactly what someone does when they ask things? Someone has to write up that information, someone has to provide resources. Not only do ignorant people get blasted for not knowing something, they’re often blasted for daring to ask. Oh you’re asking me, why didn’t you just google it instead of making me do emotional labor, you asshole?
Not only that, but learning new information only the beginning, because most people who don’t know about their privilege obviously also don’t have the tools to figure out what, if anything, they can do with it to help someone who doesn’t have it. You need both the knowledge and the tools to be a good ally, and if you deny one and blame them for not having the other, of course people will turn away.
“But if they turn away because I’m mean then they didn’t want to be an ally in the first place” is honestly kinda wild to me as well, like I see what you’re saying, and I know it sucks to be “nice” to your oppressor so they can see you as human, but 99% of the time this isn’t even what’s happening. A tiny amount of people on this planet are cis, het, white, able-bodied, neurotypical, etc etc all at once. The rando asking a question online is unlikely to be actually personally oppressing you, it’s the system that’s your enemy. If you wrench this person away from the system, you’ve won an ally. Because if this person has already asked you to tell them how you’re hurting, it means they’re willing to listen, and they’re willing to help.
And, fuck, yes, it’s fucking terrible that you sometimes have to convince somebody that you’re hurting, that you need to explain the pain in great detail for them to even have an idea of what it’s like. But do you honestly believe that it’s better to scream at people to DO BETTER without showing them what to do and how, instead of gently but firmly educating them and convince this person who wants to help and learn that doing so will be hard but worth it?
For the record, no, I don’t believe you should explain yourself to any anon demanding you explain obvious things to them personally. Nor do I believe that everyone who’s faced with ignorance is morally obligated to correct that ignorance. In fact I don’t think that it’s something we can do as individuals, but something larger and systemic. It’s about the attitude toward people who don’t already know, who aren’t already “woke” enough that needs to change.
Because either we’re going to have to teach each other to understand and respect each other’s pain, or we’re going to end up making enemies of each other because we’re expecting each other to already know and understand everything. One is better and more realistic, in my opinion, but the other seems to be the prevailing ideology of today.
As a side note, I don’t believe we should be wasting time on people who are already so deep below the bar you have to cross to be a decent person that you’d need an excavation team to get them out. I absolutely prioritize the emotional and mental wellbeing of any potential excavation team over the petty decency they’d be able to get out of some extremist asshole. I just believe that we shouldn’t be so quick to turn away potentially good people just because they’re not perfect allies already and just need a bit of guidance.
And yes, the difference between these two can be hard to tell at times, and people can change from one to the other, but again, I think it’s a larger systemic thing about how “progressive” spaces approach things that needs to change if it is to thrive. Because now it feels more like we’re fighting imperfections among each other and are more eager to brand each other as not “woke enough” instead of fighting the true enemy aka ignorance.
*inhales sharply*
Did I make any sense? Idk. It’s all very complicated and I have more thoughts but I dunno how to shape them into words yet. Maybe I’ll come back to this at some point.
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At what point does Byakuya stop being in denial? After she defends him against Gin?
Nah, he actually reacts pretty badly to that. Something along the lines of “I don’t need you to defend me, never do that again.”
No, it takes something much more drastic to kick him out of Denial River, namely her saving his father’s life. Kuchiki Sojun, being curious about this girl he’s heard so much about from both Byakuya and Ginrei, decided to take her on a mission the moment she was eligible (so in her last year at the Academy) in order to get to know her. It helped that she was from the Rukongai and so could serve as a guide of sorts. What he didn’t expect was to run into a freaking Arrancar of all things the moment they were too far to call for help/backup.
Anyway long story short, tiny Academy student Yukimura Hisana ends up dragging Kuchiki Sojun’s barely-alive, unconscious ass back to the Seireitei gates with herself not being in much better shape. Since the 4th Division triage system is based on rank and not severity of injury, she was kind of brushed to the side as approximately a dozen high ranking healers + Unohana rushed to the Sixth Division lieutenant’s aid, and it wasn’t until Sojun woke up six hours later that they realized, hey, we never actually did anything to help the kid who brought him in.
The first thing Sojun does upon waking up is ask after the Academy student who saved him.
“The girl,” he gasps out, eyes frantically searching the room. His expression becomes more panicked when he realizes she’s nowhere to be found. “Hisana-chan. Where--?”
“Hisana?” Ginrei repeats and his face, already lined with worry, goes stark white. “What are you talking about, Sojun?”
“She-- she came back for me. Brought me back. Where is she? Is she alright? Oh god, is she--”
“I’m sure she’s fine, dear,” Kuchiki Suzume says soothingly, reaching out to brush Sojun’s hair out of his eyes. “In fact, she’s probably being tended to in another room as we speak.”
Byakuya swallows numbly, feeling as though his mind has been stuffed with cotton. Yukimura Hisana? Yukimura Hisana had saved his father? And where was she now? Try as he might, he couldn’t remember seeing her being brought in...but then, it had been rather chaotic at the time, and he’d been so focused on his father--
By the time he orients himself, he realizes his grandfather is gone.
“Coming!”
Byakuya shifts on the doorstep awkwardly, feeling more than a little out of place in the...well, not exactly Rukongai level, but definitely poorer part of the Seireitei.
“Hello, how can I-- oh, it’s you.” Hisana’s expression goes flat the moment she glimpses his face and Byakuya resists the urge to wince. She pauses, seemingly debating with herself, before opening the door a fraction of an inch wider.
“How is your father doing?” Hisana asks stiltedly, tone painfully polite.
“He’s recovering well. Thanks to you,” Byakuya replies, just as stilted. “Unohana-taicho says he should be back on his feet in a week or so.”
Hisana’s face softens a fraction.
“I’m glad to hear that,” she says, something like genuine relief in her voice. “Please give him my regards.”
When he doesn’t respond, she purses her lips.
“Is there something else, or--?”
Byakuya swallows, feeling his words dry up in his throat, and then decides actions speak louder than words anyway. With that, he drops formally to his knees, leaning forward so that his forehead almost touches the floor.
“Oh, for god’s sake,” Hisana sighs, exasperated. “Get up, Kuchiki. Let’s not make this any more awkward than it already is, shall we?”
“I,” Byakuya stutters. “On behalf of both my family and myself, I owe you an enormous debt of gratitude. Words cannot express--”
“What did I say about the kneeling?” With that, she reaches down to help him to his feet. “Look, you really don’t need to thank me. I didn’t exactly do it for your sake.”
“For whose, then?” Byakuya asks, a bit mulishly. She raises her eyebrows at him.
“If you must know, for my sister. And for every other kid like her.”
“How very admirable of you,” he says, unable to stop himself. “But surely, you must want some reward for risking your life--?”
“Look, Kuchiki,” she snaps, jabbing a finger at him. “This world is full of selfish assholes and greedy jackasses and people who can’t look beyond the end of their own noses, but I’ll be damned if I join their ranks. I risked my life saving your father because to not do so would have meant betraying myself, and also because my sister deserves better than a coward who abandons her comrades. That’s why I did what I did, not because I wanted some stupid reward or some stupider idiot groveling at my doorstep. Got it?”
“I-- you’re right. I’m sorry, that was unbecoming of me,” Byakuya says after a long pause. “Will you at least allow me to take you to the Fourth? I’d feel much better knowing you were looked after--”
“You and everyone else,” Hisana grumbles under her breath. “Can’t get six hours of sleep anymore without half the Seireitei knocking on my doorstep, how they even knew I was back is beyond me, and I don’t even want to know how they found my address--” She glances up at him. “Look, I’m fine. Really. Yes, I was in a bad shape earlier but I took all those healing kido electives for a reason. I made sure I knew how to take care of myself.”
Because I knew no one else would.
The words remained unsaid and yet they hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Byakuya looks away, suddenly unable to meet her gaze.
“At least come to dinner,” Byakuya says softly. “My father would like to speak to you.”
She narrows her eyes at him.
“Why does he want to speak to me? You know, the last thing he did before he fell unconscious was scold me for breaking orders? Well you can tell him that his order was for me to leave, he didn’t say anything about me coming back-- and if by ‘leaving’, all I did was take two steps before turning back around, that still counts, and if he meant otherwise, he should have been more specific-- “
“For heaven’s sake, Yukimura!” Byakuya exclaims, frustrated beyond belief. “He wants to thank you!”
“Oh.” She blinks. “Well in that case, just tell him what I told you. Problem solved. Now if that’s all--”
Byakuya’s hand shoots out, stopping her before she can close the door in his face.
“At least let me take you to dinner,” he says, almost pleadingly. “Even if you didn’t do it for me, I--”
“Kuchiki, if you really want to thank me, go start a charity for orphaned Rukongai kids or something--” Hisana says, exasperated.
“Done,” he replies without hesitating.
“And quit it with the groveling, it’s weird. Come on, we spent the past six years insulting each other-- you’re really willing to throw all of that away just because I saved your dad’s life?” She shakes her head. “Please don’t-- I have so many creative insults I’ve been saving up to use against you.”
He laughs, despite himself.
“How about this? We insult each other at dinner,” Byakuya says, lips twitching. “Please. I’ll never hear the end of it from Mother if I don’t treat you to a thank-you meal, at the very least.”
“And this’ll get you off my back?” Hisana asks archly.
“You have my word,” he promises. After all, he never specified how long the meal would be.
~later~
Hisana, after the 30th time Byakuya pops up out of freaking nowhere to pay for her ramen: This isn’t what I meant and you goddamn know it.
(The thing with Byakuya is, the reason he kept denying his feelings was partly out of immaturity and not knowing how to handle them, but also because he didn’t think someone like her was good enough for someone of his status. This is the first time he’s questioning if he’s actually good enough for her.
It’s also the first time he sees how messed up the Gotei 13′s emphasis on class/rank really is. Like, an exhausted, wounded, preteen girl was completely forgotten about in the commotion to treat a lieutenant, and was left to stumble home by herself, completely alone. And she’s not even just any normal girl-- she’s the person who saved a lieutenant, the only member of his team to go back for him; a hero in every sense of the word. And for the first time, thinking back to all of Hisana’s rants about power and privilege in the Gotei 13 and how screwed up the system is, he gets it.)
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Ioun Bloodline Arcana
Whenever you have an ioun stone orbiting you or implanted, you bond with that stone. You may telekinetically recall one bonded stone within 20 feet per Sorcerer level, causing it to orbit your head as a swift action. You may use ioun stones as thrown weapons that function as darts and deal bludgeoning damage, and you are considered proficient with them. The stones count as magic for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction. You lose your bond with any stone out of your possession after 24 hours.
I need to unpack this a little. My evaluation is fairly mean, but this ability is a C+/B- - because of the Bloodline Powers.
First of all, the paragraph needs to be reorganized:
Whenever you have an ioun stone orbiting you (or implanted, for that matter), you bond with that stone. You lose your bond with any stone out of your possession after 24 hours. As a swift action, you may telekinetically recall into orbit one bonded stone within 20 feet per Sorcerer level. You treat ioun stones as thrown weapons with which you are proficient; they function as darts, but deal bludgeoning damage and count as magic for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction.
There we go: actions required before effects, passive abilities before active ones, generalities before specifics, normal rules before exceptions, and relevant tangents in parentheses.
Effectively, this gives you an ability slightly better than a cantrip, but in contradictory ways.
The first contradiction:
As a swift action, you may telekinetically recall into orbit one bonded stone within 20 feet per Sorcerer level.
Bonus Feats: Acrobatic, Craft Wondrous Item, Magical Aptitude, Quick Draw, Point-Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Skill Focus (Knowledge [history]), Throw Anything.
You won’t want to use Quick Draw (iterative attacks [like you have any] for thrown weapons) because of the action restriction. Now, the recall ability exists both for the attacking and to combat kleptos from yoinking your stones, so maybe that’s for balance. However, given the capstone power, I suspect it’s because someone thought returning (a +1 enchantment that makes thrown weapons work like how they say boomerangs do) would be too powerful for first level characters to have.
(<3 Bowie-sama.)
The second way it’s contradictory is in range. Most attack cantrips work at Close range (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels, meaning 25 to 75 ft.). Darts have five range increments of 20 ft., with a cumulative -2 penalty on increments two through five. Yes, your maximum range with recall becomes available at 5th level. However, you will always take a penalty to match the maximum range of the cantrip (even though you can exceed it). Further, since most attack cantrips use ranged touch attacks¹ and you still have to roll against armor, you’re not going to hit shit.
You are still better off with a crossbow, given that to use either you need to be within closing range of, say, an enemy Fighter. (I will make a big stink about this point when I review Reserve feats.)
So, onto the second question: how exactly are these
(DMG 3.0 and 3.5, but art with similarly sized stones exists all over.)
comparable to something like this?
The dart used in D&D/Pathfinder (pictured above: late Roman plumbata) is most closest to today’s lawn dart, not the tiny things used in the game of the same name (though they do descend from the military ones). The comparison this Bloodline uses is a bit of a misnomer chosen for the sake of mechanics.
See, darts are mechanically nearly identical to sling bullets:
One dart weighs 1/2 pound (in D&D, at least). Sling bullets come in groups of 10 and such a group weighs 5 lbs. Math: it’s what’s for dinner. (Bum bum bum.)
Both the dart and the sling deal 1d3 (Small) or 1d4 (Medium) damage.
Both have a crit of x2 with a normal crit range.
Both are simple weapons.
They vary in three respects: price (pft, we’re using magic items, which are loads more expensive than either), damage type (already accounted for), and range. As I explained above, slings have a range increment of 50 ft. (nice!), whereas darts have one of 20 (sad face!). So, the comparison is more to this:
Still, this seems off; ioun stones are usually shown to be really small, like pea-sized. Does any source (3.x, Pathfinder, fifth edition, something else) provide sizes to corroborate or contradict the art? Not that I could find.
Thus, I tracked down the stones’ origins: Jack Vance’s short story “Morreion,” coincidentally also about finding the sources of ioun IOUN stones. The ones in D&D are lifted from that (with Vance’s permission; yes, they are copyright Vance, not TSR/WotC/Hasbro or Paizo). It took me a while to acquire the story (I had to use the regional interlibrary loan consortium), but right there at the beginning of chapter 2 (of 41 pages²) was what I sought:
“each approximately the size of a small plum.”
A brief Wiki Walk told me that plums are about 2 to 7 cm (3/4″ to almost 3″); Google confirmed about 1-3″ plums.
How big is a sling bullet? Well, Wiki claims about 1″ in diameter, though they’re oblong. The key is that they’re often made of lead. Ioun stones don’t get weights, but that’s easily waived (or else presumed to be irrelevant because of telekinetic force).
So yes, this ability is reasonable in principle.
In application, could/should this have been better? In all ways, yes. I will give my version of how this should have worked come the end of the week.
Is it a bad Arcana? Not really; I’d give it a C+/B-, but mainly because of its interactions with your Bloodline Powers.
¹ The main exception to this is telekinetic projectile, which launches an item out to close range as a thrown weapon attack. The trade-off is that it deals 1d6 non-magical bludgeoning (regardless of what you throw) rather than 1d3 magic of an energy type. However, it’s an abomination for one reason: it also deals damage to the object thrown.
² Bear in mind the 41-page count while I explain some things - or, rather, go on a rant.
Jack Vance’s Dying Earth series is one of the primary sources used to develop Dungeons & Dragons - hence “Vancian casting” (and Vecna, an anagram and homage). Had he not inspired the casting system, we likely would have had a spontaneous arcanist from the beginning. (Psionics have been spontaneous since Eldritch Wizardry [OD&D Supplement III, 1976]; had they not earned a reputation for being broken af, the would-be Sorcerer of 3rd edition would likely have been a Psion instead.)
I say all of this because neither H.P. Lovecraft nor Gary Gygax, both noted for their use of strange words, hold a candle to Vance. So horrendous is his diction that it took me several days to get through those 41 pages.
Mind you, I have a Master’s in English with foci in literature (specifically Shakespeare) and linguistics; I’m used to word choices people don’t like and trained not to get annoyed by them.
This did.
It’s like he sat down with a thesaurus and consulted it for the least-used words he could find for every word in dialogue and many words in narration. On top of that, the plot didn’t make a lot of sense (there were lots of weird jumps in logic, in part because of the diction, but also just bizarre behavior). In the end, I felt I had wasted an interlibrary loan (What if I had accidentally damaged the book? I’d have lost ILL privileges on this tripe!) and a lot of reading time I could have put towards The Starless Sea (which is due sooner and has a line waiting for it, but I wanted to get this post done).
I cannot speak fairly of the Dying Earth series because I haven’t read enough of it, but the diction is something that Vance is noted for. I don’t want to write off Gygax’s tastes, but so many of the things I detest about D&D go back to his personal preferences, in particular Jack Vance. I’m unsure if I will try again another time because I think I’m being highly unfair, but seriously, I hated this.
At least we have IOUN stones. (No idea why Vance insists on the capitalization, but he does.) And grues. And robes of eyes. And several other nifty things.
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Close To You [Eric/Devi]: Part 3
Rated: M
Title and inspiration from Close To You by Maxi Priest
Summary: Devi and Eric’s story continues, but this time we see things from Eric’s eyes. It was her belief in him that sparked them finally coming together, but where did it really start for Eric? The life of a childhood sweetheart, conspiracies, and the fate of the city all hung over his head. He didn’t need to be wondering how to get close to the tiny amity with fire in her eyes and a mouth to match. He didn’t need to worry and wonder about how he could find a way to just be close to her.
@kenzieam @pathybo @jaihardy @every-jai@ericdauntless@beautifulramblingbrains @bookgirlthings@jojuarez26@oddsnendsfanfics @offroadinjandals@singingpeople@iammarylastar @irasancti @captstefanbrandt@clublulu333@fuckthatfeeling @tigpooh67 @ex-bookjunky @jughead-wuz-here wuz-here @badassbaker @beanzjellly @beltz2016@meganbee15@affabletimelady @scorpio2009 @gylisaa@geekybeyondallreason @violetsonthelam @kyloswarstars@emmysrandomthoughts @kgurew@beltzboys2015-blog@slytherin-princess-25273@whatwouldbuffydo666@jaiboomer11 @holamor @wealwayskeepfighting@original46 @blakefc @xtheserpentx @artisthedgehog
Part 3
It’s visiting day.
People are all over the Pit in various stages of celebration or being happy to see each other, but not me. The only reason I didn’t have Amar refuse my visitors was that there of the chance Jules would be with my brother. As soon as I saw he was alone I wanted to turn back around and walk back into my dorm.
Then I remember that the fucking stiff is still in there and thought better of it.
“Where’s Jules?”
Those are the first words out of my mouth as I walk up to my brother. Elijah does his normal inspection of me but I know he could see the shape I’m in before I even reached him and I know I’m looking like I got my ass handed to me. I’m just not ready to let him know that’s exactly what happened.
It’s bad enough that I lost my undefeated record in fights, but that I lost it to the fucking stiff is even worse.
“She wanted to be here but with her immune system being so low and that new strain of flu going around she was advised against it. She sends you her love though, and wanted me to tell you not to worry about her.”
I scoff at that last part and just barely manage not to make a snarky remark back. I know they want me to keep focused on initiation and not worry about them, but that’s not possible with what’s going on with Jules. There was so little information about the treatments she’s being given and no one knows how her body is going to handle them. Especially since she was already so sick before she even began them.
“How are the treatments going?” I ask without looking at him. Instead, I focus on observing those around me, trying to ground myself.
I’m trying to remind myself where I am and that I know Max and the others are watching the Pit and all of the initiates right now. It’s pretty much a guarantee they are after that speech Oliver gave to all of us in the dorm.
It takes me a moment to realize he hasn’t answered me and is frowning heavily. “Elijah?”
He sighs and looks up finally then shrugs. “There’s no telling how she’s going to feel from one day to the next with experimental treatments, Eric. We knew that going in.”
“But are they working?” I narrow my eyes as I demand some kind of answer from him.
“They won’t be doing another in-depth evaluation for at least another two weeks, so as far as we know she’s the same as when you left.” His words are hushed and strained.
I see the toll everything is taking on him. I know he’s suffering too. I can see it in his eyes even with him working hard not to let too much come through so that I won’t worry about him either. But again, that’s not going to happen.
I do worry even with the resentment I feel towards him that he’s there with Jules and I’m not.
“How are you doing, Eli?” I guess my tone and demeanor change take him by surprise because he blinks before smiling gently at me.
“I’m as well as can be expected, Eric. I stepped away from my practice so I can be with Jules and that’s been good. Although she’s complained about me hovering too much and that I need to find projects to keep me occupied.”
My lips twisted in a small smile while I imagine how that would have played out. “Has she found you one?”
Eli nods, grinning. “Several. But she’s currently obsessed with one after a visit to Amity for the last market they held there before the weather got too cool.”
“What kind of project would she have found for you two in Amity?” I ask after trying to figure it out for myself.
Elijah might have thought he would go to Amity at one point in time but since making the decision to stay in Erudite he's dedicated himself to medical pursuits. Jules has always been torn between her love of gadgets and wanting to follow in Eli’s shoes in some way. She’s found a balance between the two with focusing on the research behind medical advancements.
I don’t see anything in Amity fitting their intellectual pursuits and hobbies.
“To be honest, it wasn’t the actual trip to Amity that gave her an idea for the project, but when I was last here. Or rather, the purpose of my last visit to Dauntless.” The realization hits me and I groan while he smiles slightly at the sound before turning serious. “I haven’t been able to check since I stepped away to be with Jules, I don’t want to draw too much attention, but how is she doing?”
His eyes are scanning the area the entire time and I know who he’s looking for. I also know he won’t find her. I saw her slinking out of the dorm and followed until I made sure she made it to the parlor. I don’t know what her story is with her family, but I know it can’t have been good based on her reaction when visiting day was announced. I’m fairly certain she’ll hole up in the parlor for the day like she usually does on days off.
“She’s not here so you can stop looking for her, Eli,” I mutter with a scowl while thinking. “She’s still here so I guess that’s better than anyone expected.” He turns his eyes on me and calmly pierces me with them as he waits me out on my reluctance to talk about her at all. “She’s doing good.” I shrug and try to look casual.
“Is she having difficulties with her withdrawal?”
“It’s not like I talk to her to know one way or the other, Eli. I’m staying away from her just like I promised.” My brother's eyes are full of concern and a bit of pity, causing my jaw to snap shut and my teeth grind together. “Don’t. Just…” I sigh and close my eyes, shaking my head. “Just tell me what you and Jules are up to now, okay?”
He sighs a little, chuckles, then nods and begins talking. He tells me that the visit to Amity was to visit the market for fruit and other items as well as to make contact with a few former Erudite that transferred there. The goal was to see if they had any information about Peace serum and the policy of using it within the faction. Basically, it was the start of doing recon and getting help to gather more information.
Jules has made it her personal mission to deal with Amity’s use of the serum, like it was in Devi’s case. I know that some of that is because Eli probably told her that I...feel...something for the former Amity. Of course, my brother isn’t about to admit that he and Julietta have been gossiping behind my back. He knows what my reaction to that is likely to be. I can read between the lines though.
I don’t know how I feel about any of that so I decide not to deal with it. Instead, I turn the conversation to another thing I know they are working on.
“How is the other project going? Have you made any progress on getting any contacts?”
By this time we are sitting in an area that I know there aren’t cameras from my visits to control. We couldn’t risk leaving the Pit area altogether because that would look suspicious but the area is isolated enough to give us privacy while still being in plain sight if anyone cares to pay attention to us.
“I’ve been able to get a few from Candor and Abnegation who are willing to keep eyes and ears on the goings-on. There might be someone in Amity I can get on board but it will be difficult. Another part of why we are focusing on that project for Amity is because we’re looking for leverage if we need it. I was hoping that I could recruit Candice to help but I didn’t get the chance to before I took time away from work. I think we need more people here in Dauntless though. Do you have any ideas?”
I nodded absently, deep in thought before I can answer. “I have a few but I want you to find out more about them before I make any attempt at contact. Candice is a good suggestion, you were right that she’s not likely to ever side with Jeanine or anything to do with her.”
Eli nods in agreement. “That’s why she’s here. It’s supposed to be a punishment for her, being sent to Dauntless, along with the privileges of a Nurse Practitioner being revoked and stopping the advanced training she was getting to transition to doctor. So who are the other’s you have in mind?”
“Amar, Tori, and Bud. Those three will work to start with.”
**********
“Your loss to Four is going to hurt you in the rankings. Not as much as it could have if you had any other losses but enough that it’s going to knock you out of first place. You need to be prepared for that.”
Amar’s warning comes low and fast as he moves to inject my neck for the last sim session for the second stage. After today we move on to the final stage, my last chance to bring up my ranking points in some way or I won’t get offered leadership, and then all our plans will be shot to hell.
Failure has never sat well with me. My sims have shown that it’s one of the things I fear most. I wish fears were as easy to deal with in real life as they are for me in the sims.
What makes this worse for me is my failure isn’t going to end in an internal fallout where I’m the only one who suffers. Jeanine is going to see to that.
That’s the last thought I have before the serum takes me under and straight into a new fear, one that foreshadows everything that will happen if I fail.
**********
We don’t bury our dead in the city anymore.
Not since shortly after it was founded when the death toll each year was still pretty high. After the first cemetery was filled up, it was decided that everyone would be cremated after they pass but each faction has their own way of handling things after that.
They established methods to honor and remember their loved ones that would be ‘faction appropriate’ so that even in death they could contribute to the ‘harmony of the city’.
Abnegation holds religious memorials with no pictures of the person who has died and no real mention of them as an individual. I’m told it’s all more about what it is to be Abnegation and live in service of the city and their god. I’ve also heard that the most common thing for the family members to do after this is to personally take the belongings of the deceased to give away to the factionless and then spend the day in service and reflection.
Amity holds a releasing of the ashes ceremony followed by a day-long celebration of the ‘circle of life’. Ronin said that he’s heard that it’s also an unspoken part of the celebrations that people will go off and hook up as part of some belief that a new life should be created to truly honor the one that has passed on.
Candor holds a memorial honoring the person with people who are chosen to be given truth serum and then allowed to speak truthfully about the person who died. I can only guess what kind of a shit show that turns out to be. I’m not sure what they do after that.
Dauntless isn’t much better than the others. Someone is picked to give a speech at the Chasm, with their ashes being released over it. Then their bravery is toasted and everyone descends into partying, not really honoring the person who died but the lives that are still there to be lived.
But Erudite… fuckin Erudite.
I stand staring at the glass wall inside the main lobby at the Erudite administration complex. A glass wall at least two stories high that is filled with tiny names electronically broadcast on its surface until I find what I’m looking for among them.
Julietta Ramirez.
That’s it.
Just her fucking name on the glass. No date or any kind of details. She doesn’t even have her own space but shares it with all the others who have and will die this year. Not to mention the name isn’t even permanent, because Erudite believes that would be a waste of valuable space to provide information and knowledge to the faction.
This isn’t even a memorial but rather part of a public record of those who have died along with births and other various census information that cycles through being displayed daily.
In Erudite, there are no memorials or speeches given. The body is cremated and the ashes are disposed of immediately after. They believe anything else is pointless and irrational.
It’s never bothered me what cold emotionless bastards this faction can be as much as it does at this moment.
Jules is gone and I never got to say goodbye.
She and Elijah made sure of that by keeping from me that she never even started those treatments. She knew before I left that she wasn’t going to even try to take them. She didn’t go to visiting day because she couldn’t by that point. She was bedridden and already entering the final stage. My brother didn’t think it wise to tell me when he was there that day.
No, he thought it was better to tell me this four days after I finished initiation.
The day I was being given the leadership position after Four turned it down Jules was dying and I never even fucking had a clue. By the time Elijah came to Dauntless to tell me, she was already ash, and now there’s not even anything for me to say my goodbyes to.
I don’t know why I’m standing here staring at this fucking wall. I knew what I would find if I went looking and I promised myself that I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t even have set foot back in this sector if weren’t part of my job now. There’s nothing and no one here for me anymore.
Elijah stopped existing as my brother the moment he chose to let the person I love give up and die rather than fight. I cut my ties with my life here the moment my brother looked me in the eyes and told me he lied to me.
I knew what I would find if I went looking today when I came for this damn meeting with Jeanine.
Nothing.
Still here I am. Trying to find something to help soothe the pain I’m feeling and coming up empty. So maybe it’s better that I did come looking. Seeing her name disappear and fade away right in front of my eyes has a numb and empty feeling slowly starting to replace the hurt.
That has to be better than the borderline homicidal state of mind I’ve been in for the past week since I found out she’s gone. My mind starts to clear a bit and I know I’m going to need that for the next few hours. The wall starts to scroll through new information with no remaining reminders of my life here to distract me. I latch onto the hollow feeling that brings then I turn my back on the wall and walk away with my head held high.
#fanfiction#divergent fanfiction#eric coulter fanfiction#divergent au#romance#smut#drama#eric x oc#eric coulter#oc#jai courtney#diane guerrero
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'How can I complain?'
An essay about mental health by musician James Blake, from It’s Not OK to Feel Blue (And other lies).
James Blake 09 OCTOBER 2019
It’s especially easy to poke fun at the idea that a white man could be depressed. I have done it myself, as a straight white man who was depressed. In fact, I still carry the shame of having been a straight white man who’s depressed and has experienced suicidal thoughts. And still, when discussing it with most people, I will play down or skirt around how desperately sad I have been; instead I emphasize how much happier I am now. I emphasize the work I had to do to get to a better place, and how it was hard work and fruitful work, and how I empowered myself by doing it. I usually focus on how I regained control and an enthusiasm for living (‘Nice one, mate!’), not on how I lost it. That is the last of my defensiveness.
I remember doing an interview with the New York Times where the interviewer asked me why my childhood was painful, and how I got to such a dark place in my late twenties. I told him, ‘You know, other kids, bullying, etc.’ – and instantly regretted my brevity. He said something like, ‘Right, so a pretty standard childhood then.’
Fuck. After all this public talk of depression and anxiety, and many albums of expressed pain, I felt exposed as a fraud, but I was relieved not to have shown my cards and revealed how pathetic and weak I must have been when I was younger. Maybe he was right. He’d probably been through worse and wasn’t complaining about it.
I picked up a resentment towards other people from school. My parents were very loving and supportive and, unusually for my generation, still together. I went to school completely unequipped to deal with certain kids who were taking their fractured and in some cases abusive home lives out on me. I know that now. I was ‘too sensitive’, and I never learned how to act. I was a baby who’d been kept away from germs, and now I was getting ill from anything and everything. (I should say now that I have many happy memories of childhood, especially of my parents and of certain friends who I could count on, and that my inability to focus on those positives probably didn’t help.)
During my school years I spent thousands of hours walking on my own with headphones on or playing piano in the practice rooms, often going there first to cry in private and then occasionally with a mind to play. I was addicted to video games from the age of twelve, rarely going out to socialize. I had a few ‘best’ friends over the years who, looking back, I didn’t know well. But I’m grateful for having had them.
I put girls on pedestals and worshipped them, but only ever remained their friend. I fell in love many times and it was never reciprocated. I had no automatic right to them of course, but they kept me around for years and allowed me to be bullied and humiliated by their friends, accidentally betraying me out of awkwardness. I resented their understandable, youthful inability to know what to do with a sensitive boy who made them laugh and feel good about themselves, but whose body they did not want.
Boys would see my sensitivity as weakness and, while I was sharp and quick-witted, I wasn’t sporty, which was my first mistake with them, I think. Again, I didn’t know how to act. I wondered for years whether I had some behaviour disorder. I still wonder. In any case, year upon year of capricious bullying and humiliation followed.
These feelings of betrayal, persecution and rejection I kept to myself. In the crude gender stereotypes I was aware of at that age, I thought I had the sensitivity of a female but in a male’s body. I joked my way through it and made sure nobody ever saw me cry. I remained a virgin until the age of twenty-two, because I was awkward and unable to be natural around women. I was afraid of the vulnerability of sex after so many embarrassing attempts at it. (The song ‘Assume Form’ is, in part, about finding the ability to feel safe during intimacy.) It seemed to me that it had taken my success as a DJ for women to pursue me, and then I distrusted them for their sudden, transparent interest, so I pushed them all away. Slowly the face of every woman morphed into the faces of the girls who I felt had betrayed and humiliated me. And the face of every man became a bully who would underestimate me and try to kill my spirit.
Becoming relatively famous, my persecution complex turned into a self-serving narcissism, and my obsession with proving my worth to people who’d underestimated me was now being rewarded financially. To those ends, my first emotional language – music – had been the vehicle. I wanted to show everyone what they’d missed out on for all those years.
To some extent I succeeded in that, but I became so self-obsessed and isolated that I wasn’t the success I seemed to be on paper. And so the chasm grew between my alias – the guy with the ‘Pitchfork best new music 8.0+’, with the uncompromising and flourishing career, who seemed in control of everything – and the man-child who for many years was hurting, spiralling, never leaving the house, wasting away in an ego prison, refusing to collaborate, allowing himself to be bled financially and taken advantage of by his friends and their extended family, playing video games and smoking weed fourteen hours a day and not taking any care of himself what-so-ever until he was in a black depression, experiencing daily panic attacks, hallucinations and an existential crisis. I was asking questions like ‘What is the point of me?’ and saying I didn’t want to live. I became afraid of the growing fog of war outside my house because of what I knew people expected of me if I entered it: a normal interaction and, even more impossible, a new album.
I wanted people to know how I felt, but I didn’t have the vocabulary to tell them. I have gone into a bit of detail here not to make anyone feel sorry for me, but to show how a privileged, relatively rich-and-famous-enough-for-zero-pity white man could become depressed, against all societal expectations and allowances. If I can be writing this, clearly it isn’t only oppression that causes depression; for me it was largely repression.
I’m still not sure I fully believe I am entitled to be depressed or sad at all, because I’m white and cisgender and male, and life for people like me is undoubtedly the easiest of any group. But my privilege didn’t make me want to stick around, and it makes me feel even more embarrassed for having let myself go.
When the delusional mental force field of whiteness finally popped (the ‘psychosis’ of whiteness, as Kehinde Andrews puts it, which most white people are still experiencing – I was still able to reap the now obvious benefits of being white, straight and male but without the subconscious ability to ignore my responsibility to the marginalized), I started having the uncomfortable but rational thought that my struggle was actually comparatively tiny, and that any person of colour or member of the LGBTQ+ community could feasibly have been through exactly the same thing and then much, much more on top of that. A plate stacked until it was almost unmanageable. For me it became embarrassing to mention my child’s portion of trauma and sadness.
Combining that thought with the normalized stigmatization of male musicians’ emotional expression in the media, I felt like I must be the ‘Sadboy Prince and the Pea’.
But my girlfriend verbally slapped some sense into me, saying it does not help anybody, least of all oneself, to compare pain. And that was good advice to hear from someone who’d been through what she has. I can only imagine how frustrating it was for this Pakistani woman to watch me – with all my advantages in life – self-sabotage and complain like I have. Fuck.
And then you look at the statistics: according to the Yale Global Health Review, ‘in 2015, the crude suicide rate [in the USA] for white non-Hispanic males aged 40 to 65 was 36.84 per 100,000 people – more than twice the rate in the general American population’. If it wasn’t already clear that we have more than enough representation, we’re huge in suicide too.
Given this, I think it’s worth examining why many privileged white men can end up feeling they have no legitimate claim to pain, and then never deal with what they can’t lay claim to.
Even while writing this I’m visited by the thought ‘Who even cares? There are much bigger problems in the world than white men who feel sad.’ (This is a bloody laughable thing to write your first piece on – get some perspective, arsehole, and put away your tiny violin.) But you know what? I’ll continue because I think we need to advance the conversation around mental health for everyone, and it’s the only experience I feel qualified to talk about.
From systemic toxic masculinity (‘Boys don’t cry’, basically) and an ostensibly homophobic fear of sensitivity being beer-bonged into us by our friends, family and the media from as early as we can remember (‘Chug, chug, chug!’) to the slow realization as we get older that the world is actually stacked towards our success, we end up thinking that our individual psychological decline is shameful.
I believe it is psychologically dangerous for our egos to be built up as much as they are; for the importance of success to be so great; for the world to open its doors more to us than to others (most of us willfully ignore that those advantages exist, though we feel them deep down, and subconsciously know that it is unfair and that we must capitalize on them).
It is dangerous for us to be made to feel we can do anything and be anything, to gain an understanding of women as a resource rather than a lesson in empathy and love – and then find in all our capitalistic and egoistic fervour that we have neglected to take care of that other muscle that enables our survival: the mind.
I for one felt like Donald Trump, starting with $413 million and ending up broke and lying about my tax records. Maybe then it’s no surprise that so many disaffected white men identify so deeply with him. (It should be noted that I absolutely don’t.) That and our shared love of doing anything we want and saying whatever we like without consequence to ourselves.
That shared love has rightly led to a debate about what white males are entitled to say and do. I believe we’re entitled to no more than anybody else, which at this point requires a lot of listening and rebalancing. I also believe everybody is entitled to pain, no matter how perceptibly or relatively small that pain is. I don’t want the shame around depression and anxiety in privileged people to become worse any more than I want it for the marginalized. Because without addressing that pain we end up with more cis-gendered white male egomaniacs who bleed their shit on to everybody (and some of them will write albums about it).
James Blake's essay is from It's Not Ok To Feel Blue (And Other Lies), a collection of writing about mental health, curated by Scarlett Curtis.
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