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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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Miles Between Us Chapter 10 ~The Art of Non-Communication

WARNING: MILD SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in The Mediation

"Three million pounds for a house!" Jenny broke through his reflection. "Doesn't it make ye wonder what else she inherited?"

Jamie looked at the paper again. That's what the house is worth? Ach, Christ! Even the Oxford gossip found its way to Broch Mordha. He knew Claire would be mortified if the news of her assets became everyone's favourite topic of conversation.

Folding the note, he handed it back to his sister. He shook his head at his sister. "Not a word about this to any of yer mates!" he warned her. "Or else ..."

Jenny's eyes widened. "What do ye take me for?"

"A babble merchant," he ribbed, unsmiling. "Now, let me be."

"Ye're no' angry at me still, are ye?"

"No," he sighed. "I'm just exhausted."

"Can I do anything for ye?"

He puffed out a breath. Jenny was looking at him earnestly, and he knew she only wanted to reach out. "Aye, in fact, ye can. Ye can arrange that appointment with the therapist for me."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

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Jamie was removed from the noise of Lallybroch's homely routine when he stepped inside the shower that barely allotted for his breadth and height. He stroked the erection he'd been sporting since he'd woken up from his dreams of Claire, his elbow occasionally hitting the wall. If he kept this pace up, there would be some damaged tiles to answer for by the time he finally climaxed.

Creamy pale skin and amber eyes seeped through his mind, and he stifled a groan, the throbbing flesh in his hand swelling to the point of anguish. It was the reason he'd escaped to the shower when his dad had woken him, the image of Claire still vivid and the need to spill urgent. But the act of pleasuring himself was tainted with guilt. It didn't feel right using the memory of them together to find completion when he'd left her on her own. Not only did it make him a sick lecherous human being, but his action defied all reason and logic.

Anyone in their right mind wouldn't be depriving themselves if they had what he and Claire had, but instead, here he was, on self-imposed retreat, his hungry thoughts reliving that time she'd been on her knees taking his entire length in her sweet, sweet mouth. Depravity kicked in, and his body responded to the memory in a fast, fluid rush. Every moral compass he'd had, went from dried cement to loose sand, and nothing could contain the rampant desire to relieve the pressure between his legs.

He propped his left hand on the wet wall and quickened the pace of his strokes, the tight fist travelling from the base of his hardness to the engorged tip.

"Christ," he gritted, hoping he could finish without the repercussion of self-loathing and feeling like an unredeemable bastard.

Ye left her! In tears!

It's for her own good. I'm taking steps to make myself better ...for her.

What if she gets sick and tired of waiting for ye to sort out yer issues?

No, no ...she understands.

Ye havenae called her.

I'll see her after the therapy, for fuck sake.

Guilt made him want to dim the image of Claire sucking him, but the heavy sack hung between his thighs wouldn't be wheedled into emptying without envisioning her.

He was so close. He replayed Claire's most recent voice message in his head, her voice husky and yearning. She must have been in bed wearing nothing but his shirt. I love you, Jamie. I wish I could hold you right now and ease your pain.

"Ah, fuck!" Jamie groaned as convulsion racked his body. "Christ, Sassenach." His seed spurted from his cock in what felt like an endless surge of the tide. Back and forth until he was compelled to release his flesh to brace himself with both hands on the tiled surface while the remnant of his release washed down onto the shower floor.

The water had turned tepid by the time reality came streaming back in. Steeling himself, Jamie waited for the chitter-chatter in his head to start reprimanding, telling him what a sick bastard he was, but nothing came. It was quiet. Notably quiet, in fact, and the prolonged silence was too unusual for comfort and almost deafening. The voices had been his life long companion, and it seemed like someone had muted the noises. The only sound he heard was the sound of his breathing and the shower spray hitting the surfaces.

He almost jumped at the loud rapping on the door. "Jamie! Ye're gonnae be late for yer therapy appointment," Willie called out, impatience lacing his voice.

He blew out a breath. "Two minutes!" he shouted. Damn it!

"Two minutes," Willie repeated, and he strode off, the sound of his heavy footsteps making creaking sounds on the wooden floor.

Therapy! He wasn't looking forward to it, but if it would mean bringing him closer to living a normal life with Claire, he'd take his chances. He had his future waiting for him in his cottage, and God knew what was going through her mind with his prolonged absence. There's a possibility she could decide right there, and then, she'd had enough, and he could be returning to an empty home. Fuck that! No' gonnae happen.

Wrenching a curse from the depths of his soul, he grabbed a towel and dried himself in record time. No more messing about. It was time to regain back the rein to his life. After his therapy, he was returning back to his Sassenach.

..........

Jamie hadn't replied to Claire's multiple voice messages, so she'd stopped sending them, thinking he needed a break. If it hadn't been for Willie checking up on her, Rollo needing to be walked and her own work keeping her busy, she would have gone out of her mind.

She found solace in knowing he was safe with his family and sorting out his issues and tried not to dwell on the theory that she might be the reason for his worsening condition; otherwise, it would mean giving up on them and walking out of his life for his own good. They'd both had a traumatic start to childhood. If anything, their shared experience should bring them together ...well, at least she was hoping that was the case.

As long as she was busy, she was absolutely fine. But it hurt being apart from Jamie. The minute she unwinded from her daytime activities, the feeling of abandonment crept in, and she felt lost and empty. An all-consuming gloom would lurk, overwhelming her, and tears would start to fall. It had been only two days since Jamie left, but she was already fearing she'd return to London without seeing him again. It's just not fair. It was as if the universe was conspiring to keep them apart, and if that was the case, they'd never really had a chance from the start. Such thoughts would lead to a part of her wishing they'd never met because it was like being shown what happiness with someone you love could be, only to be yanked back out of reach.

She glanced out the kitchen window and realised it had begun to rain, the grey skies echoing her sombre mood. Frustrated, she mentally shook herself. There were a lot of things to do, and her uncle would be arriving in a couple of days. She hadn't mentioned anything to him about what had happened with Jamie, but that was a worry she'd have to deal with later. Because of all days, Tom Christie had called earlier, arranging to meet with her this afternoon to further discuss his book's publication. She hadn't anticipated meeting up with him for another week or more. Maybe it was a good thing he'd decided to show up. It would certainly be a much-needed distraction from the growing worries she had of Jamie. But first, she needed to book a bed and breakfast room in the village centre, a request her uncle had explicitly stressed as he didn't want to stay in Jamie's cottage to watch them canoodle, as he'd gruffly pointed out. But Claire highly doubted there would be any danger of his uncle witnessing that anytime soon.

Grabbing her coat and bag, she headed out. She was just stepping across the threshold when she caught sight of Jamie's sister walking towards her. What is she doing here? The last time she'd seen Jenny was when they were first introduced, and back then, she hadn't failed to notice the lukewarm reception. She'd tried her best to dismiss it as overly protective sibling behaviour. But something had been niggling in her mind lately ever since Willie mentioned Jenny's meddling with Jamie's love life.

Bracing herself, she forced a smile. "Hi, I'm just on my way out. Does Jamie need some fresh shirts?" She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I can quickly grab some if that's what you came here for."

There was an awkward silence. "I ...ah, I'm here to see ye." Jenny held up a plastic container. "Oh, and ma made these ... it's rhubarb pie. And she's asking after ye."

"Oh, that's thoughtful. How are ..."

"Do ye have a moment?" Jenny interrupted out of the blue.

Claire paused. Though feeling like she was in this weird bubble filled with fog and not in the mood for small talk or niceties, she stepped back and waved Jamie's sister in. "Sure. I suppose I can spare a few minutes."

Jenny nodded gratefully and stepped inside the cottage. Claire watched her cross the room to place the rhubarb pie and her shoulder bag on the dining table. She started to wring her hands, possibly because she'd realised Claire wasn't going to initiate the talk.

"Jamie is taking steps to get better," Jenny began, facing her.

"I know."

"Of course, you do."

Claire tamped down the urge to roll her eyes. "From what Jamie's told me, that's what he's been doing all his life, hasn't he?"

"Yes, that's true."

She sighed, impatience beginning to creep in. "Jenny, why are you really here? Please let's not pretend that you like me. You practically ignored me when we first met, and you've made no attempt whatsoever to get to know me. I am not expecting us to be the best of mates just because I'm with Jamie, but I do expect manners. So, I am asking very kindly if there's a reason for you taking over my precious time, please spit it out."

Jenny's eyebrows hit her hairline. "I ...uh ...I came because I wanted to see you. To check if ye're alright."

"Willie's been doing that but thank you anyway." She had no time for pussyfooting around. Pulling her coat tighter around her, she made a move to leave. "Well, I need to get going. Please thank your mum for me for the pie. I'll have it later with coffee when I return. And regards to your da as well." She pulled the door open.

"Wait ..."

"Yes?"

Jenny let out a rickety inhale. "I'm sorry, okay? I came to apologise. You're right. I was downright rude." Her lips barely moved when she said the words. It was as if it's taking a lot out of her to admit to her faults. "I have no right to meddle in my brother's affairs, moreso make ye feel unwelcome when ye're the one Jamie wants to be with." Her shoulders lost most of their tension, but the lines of her body were still strained tight. "I was worried about my brother making trips to London, and ye ken the reason why. I thought by not acknowledging ye, ye would eventually go away for good. I ken it was wrong. I shouldn't have behaved the way I did."

"But making me go away wouldn't have made a difference to his condition. Jamie would have continued to have those panic attacks."

"I ken," Jenny shrugged. "It was a dumb move, and I feel stupid for it. I realise that now. I dinnae ken what I was thinking. I'm so sorry, Claire. Can we start all over again and be friends?"

Claire felt a spark of sympathy for Jenny. In that brief moment of admission, she'd kind of started to like the girl in front of her. Though she knew it would take a while before they could converse without feeling awkward, at least this was a start. Claire smiled genuinely for the first time. "Of course. I understand now why you felt the way you did." She glanced at her watch. "But in as much as I'd like to continue this bonding, I really need to go. I have a few errands to run. Shall we talk another time?"

"Oh aye, I completely forgot ye have someplace to go." She whipped around to grabbed her bag but knocked it to the floor instead, spilling its contents. "Ach, so clumsy of me," she muttered, getting onto her knees. "Ye go ahead, Claire. I have a spare key. I'll lock up once I'm done,

Claire immediately crouched down to help, grabbing feminine bits and bobs that were scattered on the rug. "Two pair of hands are always quicker getting the job done," she assured her.

"Aye, I guess so," Jenny mumbled as she skimmed the area with her eyes looking for anything she missed.

Claire scooped the loose pennies that had rolled off and slotted them into Jenny's bag. Then she picked up a slip of paper and was about to hand it to Jenny when she realised it was a newspaper clipping with her surname printed on it. Curious, Claire unfolded it and was surprised to see it was a small article from Oxford Mail about her family home, including a small line mentioning her as an heiress. Though she was aware of the article's existence, she was shocked to see it in Jenny's possession. What is Jenny doing with this?

Blood drained from her face when she recalled Willie's story about Jenny playing matchmaker between Geneva and Jamie. Didn't Willie say Geneva comes from a well-off family, Jenny's perfect solution to Lallybroch's financial problem? Claire skimmed the familiar article once more, the worth of her property jumping out of the paper: three million pounds. A sudden sharp pain slammed into her chest.

Claire held up the newspaper cutting to Jenny's face. "Why do you have this?" she whispered through numb lips.

Jenny's face was white as a sheet. "I ...it was given to me."

"Is this the reason why you're suddenly nice?"

"No!" Jenny licked her lips, thoughts racing behind her blue eyes. "I swear to God, I meant what I said earlier ...that I’m sorry. It has nothing to do with ..." She waved a hand towards the paper Claire was holding. "...that."

Claire scrambled to her feet. "You're sorry?" Her voice was high-pitched and unnatural, but she couldn't help it. There's a rumbling earthquake beginning to take place inside her. "When did you start feeling sorry, Jenny? After you read this?" She crumpled the piece of paper and threw it on the floor. "Did you really want to be my friend? Or was that all hogwash too?"

"Claire, please." Misery slashed across her face. "I realised my mistake when Jamie took off with his car the other night, and Willie spent hours looking for him. My parents, husband and I were up, and we were worried sick. My constant meddling has made him fled and taken him away from ye." She wrung her hands together. "I was a bloody idiot for thinking I was doing what's best for my brother when, in fact, I was making things worse. And Jamie's now miserable because he thinks it's all his fault when really, it's mine. Ye have to believe me when I say that piece of paper was given to me. I never sought it myself. It was handed to me."

"Good God, are you listening to yourself?" Her voice had been reduced to a whisper. All she could see was Jamie's guilt and tortured face that day when he'd told her about his fight with Jenny. His pained expression before he'd sped off to the night and her fear of the unknown. The many times he'd excused and apologised for his sister's behaviour because he thought Jenny was doing it out of love when Claire could clearly see it was all out of selfishness. "Let me get this straight ...you only recognised your mistake because you became worried sick after your brother took off. Are you even aware that you've been treating him like an imbecile all this while as if he can't decide for himself? This was never about him, Jenny, is it? You're only thinking about yourself. The other night scared the bejesus out of you because you knew well you were part of the reason he took off. Tell me this ...how does it feel like to be riddled with guilt now, huh? Try multiplying that guilt by a thousandfold and remind yourself that's what Jamie feels every day of his life. And if you think saying sorry will make things right again, you need your head thoroughly examined. Jamie loves you despite all your meddling, and you unashamedly continued to manipulate him. So excuse me if I have trouble believing a single word you're saying now. Because you know what the bloody hell this looks like? Your apologies to me sound like you're trying to manipulate me as well. And all because I happen to own an impressive three million pound property."

"No!" Jenny shook her head in despair. "Everything else is true ...but not that about yer property." There's a tremor in her voice and shame in her eyes. "I stopped by yesterday to apologise to ye, but ye werenae home, and when Mrs Fitz from across the road saw me, she handed me that newspaper clipping. I swear to God, Claire, I came to ye even before I knew ye had that property."

Claire couldn't stand there and listen anymore, not after what she'd gone through the last couple of days. She needed to let all her frustration out, or she'd implode. "I don't trust you, Jenny. If drivel could bounce, you'd be in the bloody orbit by now. Unfortunately, that won't happen, so I'm out of here. I can't stand being here any longer." The words exploded out of her and popped in the air like bright red fireworks.

Jenny fell back a step and gasped. Claire was shocked too with the words that came out of her mouth. But she took that opportunity to rush out of the cottage, not caring if it was still raining, only focusing on getting as far away from Jenny as possible.

She'd just crossed the street when a vehicle screeched to a stop and reversed. Claire kept on walking, still reeling from her conversation with Jenny.

"Miss Beauchamp?"

She stopped and glanced into the Land Rover window that stopped by her side and noticed a familiar face. "Yes?"

The man tipped his baseball cap on his head and smiled. "It's me, Tom Christie."

"Oh ... it's you ... you're early!" was all she could say, too surprised for words.

"Actually, I'm on my way home to change clothes before our meeting. Do ye need a ride? I noticed ye dinnae have a brolly with ye, and it's raining."

Claire glanced back at the cottage and saw Jenny standing at the doorway, looking at her with that still ashen face. She'd heard rumours in the village about Tom being a ladies' man and knew what it would look like to Jenny if she got into the Land Rover with him. But she didn't give a flying fig. Let her gossip! Smiling, she nodded at Tom. "Yes, please. To the village centre if it's no trouble."

He grinned. "Nae bother at all. Hop in."

..........

"Remind me again why I'm here," Willie mumbled under his breath as they followed a young woman down a long hallway lined with modern paintings. "I thought I made it clear it should be Claire attending this therapy with ye. In case ye need reminding, I got our business to run."

Jamie sighed. "I'd rather ye're here. Ye ken my condition better than anyone."

"Is it Geneva ye're worried about?" his older brother asked in a low voice.

"God, no. I'd be more worried if Jenny came with me. Christ, she'd been pushing Geneva and me together for as long as I can remember. I ken the lass took a fancy in me, but that's all it ever was. I'm just concerned it's gonnae be weird since we ken each other."

Willie glanced at him with understanding. "There's nae avoiding it, lad. We live in a small village, and everyone knows everyone. It's the bane of living in such a place. We just have to make do with what we have."

"Aye, that's true."

The young woman in front of them turned. "The last one on the right," she smiled, pointing at the white door. Jamie wanted to say he knew his way around and that it was the same office as his former therapist but decided not to and returned her smile instead.

With Willie close behind him, he stepped forward and knocked lightly against the door. A feminine voice answered from the inside, "Come in."

Pushing the door open, they were greeted by a familiar, cosy space and Geneva, dressed in a black pantsuit with her hair done in a bun. She was sat in a dark leather armchair, looking them over with her transparent-rimmed glasses. If she was surprised to see Willie with him, she hid it well.

"Mr Fraser, it's nice to see you again." Smiling warmly, she stood up and held out her hand for him. Taking it, she gave him a firm handshake before doing the same to Willie and motioning them towards the over-size beige leather sofa arranged in the middle of the room. "Please take a seat." Like a couple of schoolboys, they both did as they were told.

"Before anything else," she began, looking at Jamie. "I have you here for one on one therapy. Is there a reason why you brought your brother with you?"

Jamie cleared his throat and licked his lips. "I, ah, wanted him here for moral support."

"Fair enough. So what can I do for you?" She smiled, crossing her legs and reclining back into her armchair, a clipboard resting on her thigh.

Jamie anxiously glanced at Willie, but his brother only shrugged. "I dinnae ken where to start. Ever since yer predecessor left, I havenae been to therapy because I didnae feel comfortable seeing a therapist who knows me on a personal level. It kinda feels odd."

She steepled her fingers together, her blue eyes narrowing on him. "I understand this is out of your comfort zone and probably, for some, highly unusual. But I'd like to make it clear that I take my job seriously, and I hold myself to the highest professional standard. Whatever friendship I have with your sister will have no effect whatsoever on what would transpire within these walls. If you wish to proceed, please take a few deep breaths and just forget that you know me. In here, I am Dr Dunsany, and you are Mr Fraser."

Jamie considered her words as she waited patiently for his reply. After a minute of contemplation, he finally nodded and took a few cleansing breaths. "Fine."

She smiled. "So, first things first. What prompted you to finally see a therapist?"

He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. "I'm in a serious relationship." Jamie thought he saw an ever so slight arching of her eyebrow but immediately dismissed it as his imagination. "And my condition and the panic attacks are hurting our relationship. I figured in order for us to move forward, I needed to take steps in getting better."

Geneva picked up her clipboard and started scribbling. "What do you believe your girlfriend thinks about your condition?"

Jamie smiled briefly at the thought of Claire. "Weel, she's very understanding and very patient, and she's taken my condition in a stride. Like the rest of my family, she thinks I'm suffering from suppressed guilt and emotions."

Geneva paused and closely appraised him. "Why do you think she thinks you have suppressed guilt and emotions?"

His heart began to increase its pace, and his throat tightened. "Because we were both there when her parents died. She was able to move on, but I couldnae," the words came out rapidly.

A whoosh of breath came from Willie.

"Why do you think she was able to move on and you couldn't?" she pushed, seemingly unaffected by Jamie's revelation.

A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. "Because it's my fault that she grew up without a family."

He heard Willie's breath hitch, but Geneva ignored his brother.

"And why do you think it's your fault?"

His mouth became dry, and his tongue thick. "I didnae run fast enough to get help when their car crashed. If I had, she wouldnae be orphaned today. If I was stronger, I wouldnae have needed to run off and get my godfather, and I could have pulled the door open myself and saved her parents as well."

"You look like a strong man, Mr Fraser. Why do you think you needed to run and get help to pull the door open?"

"I wasnae big enough back then. I was only ten." He dropped his head into his hand. "And she was so wee ...crying for her ma. All I could do was hold her."

He started to hyperventilate as the image of Harry staring at him through the window, sprung to life. It was the last image he saw before the car had exploded.

Sensing his discomfort, Geneva stood from her armchair and retrieved two bottles of mineral water from the mini-fridge, handing them each to the brothers. They both gratefully accepted, taking large gulps.

When he got his breathing back under control, she proceeded. "I understand now your frustration at not being big enough to carry the task out yourself and why you had to get your godfather." She scribbled a few more notes on her clipboard. "I'm going to go back to the question you haven't answered yet. Why do you think your girlfriend was able to move on from her parents' death?"

He squashed the empty bottle of mineral water. "She was too young then to understand any of it, just a wee bairn when it happened."

"And so were you."

"She was five, and I was ten. I was old enough to be able to do something about it, but I couldn't."

"Your godfather, who was old enough and stronger than you, was unable to do anything further. Do you think it was your godfather's fault?"

"No! Of course, not. He tried his best. We got her ...Claire, who's m-my girlfriend now, out first and my godfather made me take her to safety. But the car caught fire, and it exploded."

"So it's not your godfather's fault, and yet you think it was your fault."

"Yes!"

"Why would you think, after all the efforts you and your godfather have done to try and save your girlfriend's parents, it's still your fault?"

"It was the way he looked at me."

"Who looked at you?"

"Claire's father. Just before the car exploded."

"How did he look at you?"

"He was just staring at me."

"And you can't get that out of your head?"

"No."

A mild frown of concentration descended across Geneva's face as she flipped through the notes on her clipboard. She reached out for a manila folder on a coffee table by her side and browsed through it too. "This is a great start, Mr Fraser," she continued. "From what I've here in your history with your former therapist, this is the first time you've ever talked about an experience from your childhood. This is highly interesting. Care to tell me why you've never talked about this before."

"It's a memory that I've forgotten, and it's just resurfaced recently."

She arched an eyebrow. "How recently?"

"A few days ago."

"Can you remember what triggered the memories to come back?"

"The night I met my girlfriend's uncle on video chat."

"So, prior to that night, you had no recollection of the forgotten memory, is that correct?"

"Aye."

"Why do you think your girlfriend's uncle triggered all the memory to come back?"

His fingers began to pick at the water bottle label. "He looks exactly my girlfriend' father."

A long silence ensued.

Geneva placed the clipboard by her side and uncrossed her legs. "That will be all for today, Mr Fraser. We've covered enough to have something to work on."

Jamie's head shot up. "So that's it? That was quick," he pointed out, glancing at his watch.

"Oh, we're far from done, Mr Fraser, but you've revealed more than I anticipated, so I decided to stop while we're ahead. Thank you for answering all questions as openly as possible."

"So what's yer diagnosis?"

She tilted her head to the side. "I believe you have a lot of misplaced guilt about your past that may be hindering you from moving on. So ...what I would like you to do is ...I want you to think about how you want your future to look like. Think really hard and try to dig deep. Next time we catch up, we'll discuss everything in details." She stood up, and Jamie and Willie followed suit. "I'll see you next week. My assistant will write down the date of our next meeting. You can pick up your appointment card on the way out," she smiled, opening the door and ushering them out.

The brothers walked out quietly together, both lost in their own thoughts.

"That wasnae too bad, was it?" Willie asked as they stepped out of the building.

Jamie shook his head. "No, no' at all." His head was still buzzing from the session, so he didn't really have much opinion to offer.

"Perhaps next time, ye can bring Claire with ye."

At the mention of her name, he pulled out his phone from his back pocket. He'd silenced it all morning as he'd prepared himself for the therapy but was disappointed to see there was no new message from her. "She hasnae messaged."

"I'm no' surprised. You havenae been returning her calls. And ye have no excuse, lad, because I left ye a charger at Lallybroch."

Jamie followed his brother close behind as they made their way to the car. "How do ye know I've no' been returning her calls?"

"She told me."

"How is she?"

"Find out yersel'."

A familiar bright red Fiat slowed down next to them just as Jamie was about to get into the car, and Ian, their brother-in-law, poked his head out of the window. "Hey, lads, guess who I just saw back in town?"

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.

When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath.

"Out with it!" Willie grumbled. "I've been away from work for far too long already."

Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."

Jamie waved a hand in the air in dismissal and turned to open the car door, not particularly interested in hearing the latest coming and going in Broch Mordha. "I'm pretty sure the lassies will be thrilled he's back."

"Aye, ye're probably right, but I dinnae think ye'd be too pleased to hear if one particular lass is enjoying his company."

Jamie whipped around. "What do ye mean?" He sounded like someone just launched a flying rugby pass onto his stomach.

"Saw Claire and Tom through the window of Slater's Arms. Probably sitting down for late lunch."

His heart and brain must have swapped places because suddenly, his heart seemed twice as heavy, and his brain thumped against his skull. "M-my Claire?"

Willie tipped his head like he's on the brink of calling Ian an eejit. "Hold up, this could all be just an innocent thing. Wasnae Claire supposed to be meeting with someone from here for some book publication?"

"Nae way!" Ian shook his head. "Christie doesnae look like the type to string a sentence together, never mind write a book."

"Alright," Jamie breathed, propping his hands on the edge of the car's roof. His brain was barely functioning because it was knocking against his temple, making him see red. He'd completely underestimated his ability to let her go, thinking he was doing it for her own good. Claire hadn't called today because she thought he'd given up. Ah, shite! He felt he was going to be sick. "I need to go and see her. Now."

"Fuck!" Willie muttered. "I'm coming with ye." Then he bent down to Ian's eye level and pointed his index finger at his brother-in-law. "Next time, run this kind of info by me first."

Ian smirked. "Fine. But I'm coming too. I'm up for seeing a bit of nefariousness."

Jamie was already in the car, fastening his seat belt. "Let's go!"

Dear Readers,

Whew, that was a long chapter. I'm literally drained; nevertheless, I'm feeling a sense of satisfaction that I can post it today. My eyes are wonky, though, from editing, and I was about to go through it again when I thought, ah bugger it, I will do the grammar check tomorrow.

Before I say nighty-night, thanks for your feedback from the previous chapter, and I'm looking forward to what you think of this next one. I know it's slow going, but I really wanted to cover as many plot holes as possible. Slowly but surely, I'm getting there. Anyway, take care always and keep spreading kindness and love. Until the next update, much love! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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bladekindeyewear · 5 years ago

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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-06

♪ HS2 HS2 is baaaaack ♪

♪ HS2bloggin here we gooooo ♪

♪ Structural changes on their team but I don’t caaaaare ♪

♪ Already resooolved myself that its NOOOT gonna beee as good ♪ with inattentiveness to details characters like Terezi forgetting-what-they-used-to-know and an obsession with dwelling on traaageeeDEEE without relief-or-considering how weee’d feeeeeeel~ ♪♪♪ --so just gonna enjoy-what-i-caaaaaan about iiit~ ♪♪♪

Okay time for bankruptcy

> CHAPTER 11. History's Most Notorious Haters

Let’s see how effectively my perky new lowered-expectations attitude lets me enjoy this comic *click*

wut

Oh. so is this Dave drawing comics about current events or Regular Calliope doing so for our very first lanky look at her presumably-grown-up-more cherub form

> Knight: Keep it real.

HOLY SHIT IT’S DAVEBOT AND ARADIA

so we just get to SEE them?! just like that??? no buildup or anything? :D

Okay I’m marking out a little that’s a good sign. Also what a nerdy cop-out to turn the roboteyes into glasses that’s barely passable which is perfect, the rest of his outfit looks pretty cool tho

DAVEBOT: and thats reason four hundred nineteen why despite my mans many accomplishments i will never acknowledge big skateboardings contrived message that tony hawk is the quintessential skater of our generation ARADIA: o_o DAVEBOT: not in these trying times

Good to see Ultimate Dave is being true to form with regards to the core of his personality

DAVEBOT: beep boop ARADIA: i have told you several times that i was a robot before and i know for a fact you dont have to say beep boop DAVEBOT: hm that sounds fake does not compute ARADIA: david DAVEBOT: mom

I was with this conversation until the last two lines what the fuck

(I’m reading into it aren’t I, Aradia was trying to be atypically proper -- even though she wouldn’t have the frame of reference to know without being specifically told that “Dave” was considered nickname shorthand for the human name David, and thus if she DID know there’s no reason she’d use it except to troll him -- and Dave’s just mocking her response. Without any shame about his continued weirdness of calling people Mom, and by without any shame I mean he made the choice EXPLICITLY to intentionally evoke the awkwardness. Wow I got a lot out of two lines.)

(Oh, also alt!Callie’s true Jade-body incarnation here probably prompted her to start using “David” by example. There, various mysteries solved via a pile of assumptions probably to be disproven in the next couple lines I read.)

The Knight and the Maid stare at each other briefly, having exchanged enough meaningful glances over their time together to know when to drop it.

Would Time players have an easier time gelling this way, like this particular smoothness? Dropping it just before it gets weird or excessively irritating?

(Overclasspecting)

ARADIA: i think we have exchanged enough meaningful glances over our time together to know when to drop this DAVEBOT: what i enjoy about our conversations is that you just say things like that

OKAY I SNRK’D AT THAT. That was funny.

Initially. And now I’m concerned whether Aradia is being controlled by the narrative-speak, or whether they’re both just humorously referencing the meta-text they can both see, or--

ARADIA: oh is that what you enjoy ARADIA: well we are both an infinite number of years old living countless lifetimes at once but thats no reason to waste any of our...

WHAT??!? She’s an Ultimate Self too?!?

Um, okay! Yeah! So they’re BOTH just riffing on the narrative then. But... why would Dave need a robot body to accommodate his Ultimate Psyche without getting sick but Rose not need it? I can understand Dirk not needing it because the merging of the full breadth of his multiversal individuality gels well with him being a God of the aspect governing the power of his multiversal individuality, but Aradia?

Were the robot bodies not necessary after all, and the sickness Rose suffered and Obama thought Dave would have suffered some sort of ruse? Are there shenanigans afoot? (Or are we going with the “troll biology is better” cop-out?)

She knows how this will play out, having undoubtedly tried this joke on her friend in some timeline or another. Their rapport reflects a unique combination of their matching aspects but greatly differing classes. One a passive but powerful servant to time, the other wielding the aspect like a honed blade.

WHAT????

PASSIVE SERVANT OF THE ASPECT?!? WHAT THE FUCK

Okay if that means anything like it sounds like I guess my class chart is finally blown up, sure, they only waited (*checks last edit date*) SEVEN AND A HALF YEARS TO BLOW THAT GUESS UP, SURE

Wow. Okay, I feel some obligation to jump to conclusions and say the whole class chart is wrong, but let me stay strapped in to see if “passive” is as literal as one would expect alt!Callie to mean, or it just means “an active class passive compared to other classes”. And, serving the aspect? Oh dammit, now people are gonna come at me advocating a Maid / Page dichotomy about actively serving the aspect versus allowing the aspect to be served... or Page / Maid even, jesus

I wish I had enough energy to have those chats anymore. I’d rather hold on and see the whole ridiculous chart scheme they have in mind... which is definitely (and hopefully) the one Andrew really drew up at the time and not made up by the staff, even if it throws away plenty of my old work... I’ll just stop thinking about it and keep reading.

...

--no, I don’t think I can just stop thinking about it yet. Dammit, brain.

So um. Maids serving their aspect. There was a whole “Maids serve” thing going on throughout the whole plot of Homestuck, but despite how prevalent it was, I wrote it off as the story riffing on the classical definition of Maid when the actual stuff Maids accomplished was something different and more specific, just like Knights constantly got riffed on for chivalry and the like. Furthermore, service seemed like a really shitty class definition, when class definitions are the verbs one uses to interact with reality through Aspects to change the way reality unfolds, and “serving” isn’t really an action that results in change, implying a distinct deficit of agency that I wouldn’t have viewed as fair. (Especially since you originally think “meant to serve others” and not “meant to serve the aspect”, implying even LESS agency.) Furthermore, MOST passive classes from their descriptions seem to have a propensity to act “as if by the will of the aspect”, so even with the nuance of “serving the aspect”, devoting an entire class verb to service would just step on the territory of other active/passive class pairs’ passive sides, right?

But... IF we were to take this for granted as what it SEEMS... then concentrating on that angle of “serving the aspect” implies a whole lot more agency than a service class might sound on its surface. The definition fits with the story better once you contextualize all the Maid-y references to service around Jane, for instance, with the additional idea of “serving Life” by baking prolifically and creating more of its symbols in food and--

--fuck. “Serving”, like serving to others. Serving the aspect as its attendant AND serving it out to others that need it. Maybe this still IS part of the Additive class pair! Whoa. :O

Okay okay so, what I/we thought before was:

Create/Add - Maid / Sylph

Destroy/Reduce - Prince / Bard

But “additive” really isn’t an elegant verb compared to the “Destroyer” classes, so... could it be the “Servants” and the “Destroyers”? Like Maids cleaning up and healing the broken wreckage strewn through the halls by a bratty Prince’s tantrum???

It’d certainly be weird... and it’d CERTAINLY be a wild twist where I was partially wrong in some fascinating ways but not entirely off base?

One a passive but powerful servant to time, the other wielding the aspect like a honed blade.

And yet, I can’t bet on this being the situation yet; not at all. First, it relies on the idea that alt!Callie’s explicit narrative here is slightly misleading, which would be a pretty extreme thing to commit to, even for a technical truth like “she was saying it was passive relative to other classes even though it’s technically “active””. Second... it would mean that Muses are even more wildly defined than the previous insinuation of hers, that the Sylph -- what we thought was the passive additive class -- was not enough like a Muse compared to a Witch. Muses not being that Additive? I could grudgingly understand that, but Muses not being anything like passive Servants?! That would be EXTREMELY weird!

So... there’s not a whole lot of chance that I’m not dramatically wrong somewhere about these classes! In a way that throws the entire chart into disarray!

I’m... oddly excited? Huh.

That’s a pretty nice surprise that I actually feel that way.

(Don’t hit me up all at once to discuss this Classpect development over Discord, I’ll still need a few days without talking about Homestuck to recharge as usual. Like... maybe wait and come at me as a group chat? So I’m not talking about the latest developments separately with everyone? No that wouldn’t work, how about... guh I dunno, look my outlook’s a little more positive right now but dealing with Homestuck still takes emotional energy okay?)

Okay the rest of this page...

ARADIA: ... DAVEBOT: time then make a weird face ARADIA: ........ DAVEBOT: waste time DAVEBOT: time ARADIA:............. DAVEBOT: i experience all points of time simultaneously please just say time and make a weird face

This is true.

ARADIA: .................. DAVEBOT: cmon megido youre killing me clocks ticking ARADIA: ... ARADIA: time o_o

The Maid casts a furtive glance around the empty crew quarters, as though to search for someone more sympathetic to her bit.

ARADIA: tough crowd

Dorks.

> ==>

(Lazy fruit-throwing sword-training I won’t bother to screenshot but looks fun)

(I mean, really lazy looking, these people really don’t have Andrew’s knack for action composition that would make the same amount of gif-creation effort feel like a microcosm of the event they’re depicting, unfortunately. Again, I don’t blame them; Andrew was just too good at it.)

DAVEBOT: ok heres one DAVEBOT: how old do you think you are ARADIA: emotionally? ARADIA: that is a pretty heavy topic DAVEBOT: you know damn well thats not what i meant ARADIA: you know I have been through a lot dave DAVEBOT: ok ARADIA: its just so kind of someone DAVEBOT: ok i get it ARADIA: to finally ask how i feel ARADIA: i am beside myself with emotions ARADIA: i want to open up DAVEBOT: jesus christ ARADIA: shall i open up about my past traumas to you ARADIA: would you enjoy that ARADIA: to think even a frog like me can work through their pain with a dear friend ARADIA: you have truly blessed me on this day dave strider

Is Aradia JUST trolling here or is her Ultimate Self grappling with a ton of real unresolved trauma too that she’s bullshitting around Dave-style?

DAVEBOT: times fun when youre having flies

Okay that’s a damned good frog pun.

Alright now Davebot’s rapping

DAVEBOT: lacking tact i stay stacked while i breach contract DAVEBOT: sacred vows disavowed got divorce fever DAVEBOT: i leave her DAVEBOT: dont look back dont perceive her ARADIA: do you want to talk about it :( DAVEBOT: about what ARADIA: would you say you are hung up on leaving your wife and friends behind

Goddamnit is DAVE’S ton of real unresolved trauma leaking into his raps unintentionally Dave-style?? I knew we had to address it when we cut to Davebot but how about LESS TRAGEDY IN THIS COMIC MAYBE

DAVEBOT: arent you even a little guilty about ditching your boyfriend ARADIA: what ARADIA: oh fuck

But she knew what she was doing when she did it she explicitly did it didn’t she? Epilogues quote:

DAVEBOT: what about your boy DAVEBOT: eyepatches ARADIA: oh sollux is in one of his moods ARADIA: this was all getting to be a bit much for him ARADIA: if i go ill probably just cut him loose DAVEBOT: good move

And then they stepped through the sky hole more or less. Did like, distracted Ultimate Aradia not realize exactly how long she was leaving Sollux for, ie forever? Or did she “ascend” to Ultimate status later and hadn’t thought back to the full consequences of her actions within this timeline? Or both? From the looks of the link we’ll probably find out on the next pa--

--Wait. Something else I just thought of, unrelated.

If Aradia is an Ultimate Self, that’s another coincidentally Ultimate version of someone hanging around that happens to be on the prospective list of Soul-Powered Jujus that might have their creation loops closed in the coming story. Could those two things play into each other somehow? Like instead of their souls getting stuffed into the items, their “Ultimateness” is? Or as if that’s a necessary component, or... no, I’m probably overthinking things.

> (Months in the past, but not many...)

Uh huh. Is that flashing because he’s “watching” Aradia leave? But I thought Aradia SAID she was leaving--

> (==>)

--and that black hole portal doesn’t look as cool as it sounded in the Epilogues. But why was Aradia acting surprised, she said “I’ll probably just cut him loose” mere MOMENTS before entering the portal, did she mean “cut him loose” as in “I’m going to talk to him before leaving” and then just IMMEDIATELY forget that she didn’t say anything to him because she cared so little???

Wait. Waaaait wait wait. I think. I think maybe I missed some subtext. Lemme do some fuller quotes here:

ARADIA: oh sollux is in one of his moods ARADIA: this was all getting to be a bit much for him ARADIA: if i go ill probably just cut him loose DAVEBOT: good move

His gaze remains fixed on her. She blinks and looks away, unsure what to say next. He’s standing perfectly still, presumably waiting for her to say something. She met him... what was it? Once, twice before? She can’t remember. But she knows this is a very different Dave. Aside from the metal skin, he seems implacably confident. But then, people go through changes. She’s been through more than her share. She cocks an eyebrow, recalling her own stint with a metal body.

DAVEBOT: hey earth to whats your face ARADIA: oh ARADIA: its aradia

[...]

DAVEBOT: youre coming DAVEBOT: better decide quick i doubt that dank fuckin hell funnel is staying open for much longer ARADIA: yes i suppose so ARADIA: thats where all the action is right? DAVEBOT: all the action that matters yeah ARADIA: off we go then :) DAVEBOT: word

He holds out his hand. She looks around, and assumes he means for her to take it, so she does. She didn’t know someone could fly this fast. He nearly yanks her arm out of its socket. She considers reminding him that maybe this isn’t necessary, since she can fly too. But she doesn’t want to risk saying more embarrassing stuff around this outrageously cool dude. Besides, they’re through the wormhole before she can even finish the thought. It vanishes the moment they’ve crossed.

...this was a SHIPPING thing wasn’t it. She’s impressed as hell with Striderbot, she SAID she’d cut things off with Sollux, and then she was so busy being swooped off her feet and into the portal that she forgot to actually say anything to him. Is that what happened????

Ultimate Self Davebot x Ultimate Self Aradia. Huh. Didn’t see that coming. (Though, again... they could make it SLIGHTLY clearer that this wasn’t just a blatant continuity error.)

Anyway, a rare-don’t-get-used-to-it [S] page...

> [S] (Gaze.)

...Okay that was kinda funny.

> (==>)

SOLLUX: h0w the fuck am i g0ing t0 get d0wn fr0m here.

HAH! Okay, he’s taking it pretty well. :) --and THAT’s what she realized she forgot, giving him a flight down from the tower before leaving.

GOOD. KEEP THINGS HUMOROUS EVEN WHEN LITERAL ABANDONMENT IS HAPPENING. THAT’S the Homestuck I was missing. :) :) :)

> Back to reality.

(Since the black hole is outside “canon” reality.)

Those are some cool poses-AHAH JESUS CHRIST ALT!JADE YOU LOOK ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING XD

COULD YOU MAYBE HAVE CLEANED UP THE DRIED BLOOD AT SOME POINT OR IS SOME OF THAT FRESH FROM EATING MORE RAW MEAT

(Lord English’s blood leaving permanent timeless bloodstains would be a cool new thing to squeeze into canon i admit, i wouldn’t blame them for taking the excuse even if you could find small canon counterexamples I’m not sure of but dimly think might exist)

((ALSO SHE’S GONNA BE TINY NEXT TO THEM I DUNNO IF THAT MAKES IT MORE TERRIFYING OR LESS, PROBABLY MORE))

DAVEBOT: so youre telling me you dont even feel a little bad that you ditched him to be a weird death acolyte ARADIA: no i think he found my wiles both charming and irresistible DAVEBOT: not even an ounce of guilt or self doubt huh DAVEBOT: just like that DAVEBOT: no conversations about the greater good DAVEBOT: no revelations about your feelings

Is Aradia a jerk or weird? Can’t decide.

ARADIA: do you often find your faith in yourself shaken like this or is it a new experience now that your mortal coil has been left behind DAVEBOT: what ARADIA: do you think now that all that is left of you is a literal ghost inside of a machine you are more or less likely to embrace finality DAVEBOT: oh dope more cult of one shit DAVEBOT: immortality changed you ARADIA: could it be that you are projecting your feelings onto my situation DAVEBOT: does not compute rose jr ARADIA: ... ARADIA: we dont have to talk about it DAVEBOT: thanks

Wow, I actually can’t follow this conversation at all. Let me stare at it for a sec...

...okay, the first part she’s talking about DAVE’s faith in HIMself being shaken, not her own. She’s not asking if he relates to HER experience, she’s contrasting it.

Then, asking if he’d be more likely to embrace death, or... Time? Death. Whether his self-worth has changed because he might view himself as “less real”, something Aradia doubtless struggled with when she was a robot who already had so many excuses to devalue herself at the time? And then Dave talks about “cult of one” shit what does that even mean-...

OH. Like she’s a death cult. Gooot it. Because Aradia’s of the position that death and ending should be celebrated, and Davebot understandably isn’t entirely bought in. This is as hard to parse down as one would EXPECT conversations between two Ultimate Selves to be hard to parse down, unlike Rose and Dirk where their insane missions and glaring flaws shine bright enough through it all that you can follow their conversation flow easily.

JADE: They sit in each other's presence, the silence between them as meaningful as any words they could exchange. DAVEBOT: its always really cool to hear how meaningful my silences are DAVEBOT: especially while DAVEBOT: CALCULATING DAVEBOT: CALCULATING DAVEBOT: especially while i am attempting to experience them

Alt!Callie pulling a narrative-text AFTER a talk-identifier like “JADE:” is really hilarious in my opinion.

JADE: i do not need your approval. the story will continue how it must. DAVEBOT: beep boop hater detected ARADIA: wow is that true JADE: i am not a hater. DAVEBOT: classic hater line DAVEBOT: i know this because i am pouring through genuine actual quadrabytes of information on historys most notorious haters JADE: no, you aren’t.

Pffffff. This is pretty fun.

DAVEBOT: you are the exact opposite of a hater ARADIA: a liker DAVEBOT: ok DAVEBOT: perfect example your tolerance for whatever is going on with DAVEBOT: all this ARADIA: i think she looks quite lovely covered in the viscera of the all-powerful enemy she consumed ARADIA: floating lifelessly in our periphery ARADIA: observing our every action and noting its relevance :) DAVEBOT: uh huh thats what i mean

I was gonna note “liker” as additive for pointless classpect purposes, but really more quoting it just because I really enjoy this conversation. I’m starting to get sold on the chemistry of these two a lot faster than I expected.

JADE: even though I understand that it must happen, i am growing frustrated with the direction of this conversation. DAVEBOT: do you want to talk about something else stinky JADE: what would you suggest?

How long has that dried fucking blood been on her

DAVEBOT: ok hear me out DAVEBOT: kanaya DAVEBOT: but like DAVEBOT: wearing huge jorts

That explains Homestuck’s twitter earlier

> Weeks in the future, relative to the original point of interest...

Wait wait which point of interest? This time we were just viewing? *click*

I love what must be this shitty imagination-ship they’re using to cross the substrate of reality

> ==>

Whoaaaa. So they DIDN’T stay in those outfits for long? It showed them in a bunk bed earlier, it showed CallieJade still going around blood-covered afterward-- dammit, I’m having a hard time gauging exactly how much time is supposed to have passed between their entry into the black portal, their earlier conversation, and this moment. And as likely as some are to call this poor scene composition, I can’t think it’s anything but intentional, given we’re dealing with a couple of Ultimate Time players bullshitting with each other.

Moments like these are not rare, and serve a valuable function to the story. They are able to show a passage of time with the bulk of the emotional labor of a lengthy bonding process happening off screen. How did we get here? What have they been through? These questions are often better left open to individual interpretation and can give the one interpreting a sense of ownership of the story.

See? We’re being trolled is why. (Even if the authors are pulling the trick Alt!Callie describes maybe a little too damn often, because a cut like this where we’re supposed to fill in the emotional gaps and intervening events ourselves as readers depends on readers’ faith that sensible events and decisions for these characters would OCCUPY the gaps, as if readers don’t have faith that what intervenes WOULD make sense to their understanding of the characters the way the authors are writing them... it just seems like an excuse to do whatever you want without adequately explaining yourself, when in reality if you’d spelled out the events that led to it we’d all cry foul at the mischaracterization.)

...okay, maybe I’m a BIT bitter. Sorry. Where were we?

JADE: As a point of curiosity- ARADIA: oh shit!!!!

The dead Cherub possessing the body of an equally deceased Goddess of Space pauses at the interruption.

She doesn’t talk much, then? Too busy doing whatever talking you’d do as your other possessed Jade body? Just how temporally related is you controlling THIS Jade compared to when you were controlling the other? When that Jade pegged you as enjoying contact with friends, are these two just not enough for you, or did you “experience” the trips entirely separately? I don’t THINK the alt!Callie possessing either Jade is a separate entity from the other, but...

Were she to voice her opinion, it would be that --actually-- it is not unusual for those whose primary concern is The Grander Scheme to have a passing curiosity about the insignificant. So when one really thinks about it, any annoyance with the attendant’s small mindedness is both understandable and warranted.

She pissed

...also, “the attendant”. Even if “serve” is really the verb here, that phrasing really irks me as if she’s talking down to her. Which, I mean, makes sense for alt!Callie’s character, but doesn’t make me feel better about this new definition being foisted on us.

ARADIA: :( JADE: as a point of order, you never answered dave’s question. ARADIA: which one he is very chatty JADE: you experience time in a way that is woefully unfamiliar to me and it has... piqued my curiosity enough to learn more. ARADIA: ?_? DAVEBOT: shes asking how old you are

Wait a minute, is Alt!Callie asking a question about a dropped topic from WEEKS ago?! And is Davebot so in touch with Time and the meta ordering of topics that he actually CAUGHT ON that fast to what she was actually wondering about?????

This is getting more disorienting by the minute.

ARADIA: in this form our bodies stop aging once we reach maturity i think ARADIA: the god tier keeps our physical form locked in a state of undying ARADIA: even in death the bodies do not decay ARADIA: only lay dormant

THAT LAST PART IS FUCKING IMPORTANT. It’s being brought up intentionally to tell us that JOHN’S DEAD BODY can still be in the wallet Terezi’s carrying around RIGHT NOW without having decayed over the past years. I remember remarking in SOME previous HS^2 liveblog post of mine that I was alarmed by the decay that would have happened there (can’t find my remark on short notice and don’t really care to), so this explicitly dismisses it so we won’t be surprised by the fact that she could keep it in just-dead condition.

DAVEBOT: like how long have you been alive JADE: yes, that one.

[...]

ARADIA: oh maybe a few hundred years or so DAVEBOT: what JADE: what? ARADIA: well if i had known you were going to be so judgy about it DAVEBOT: when did this happen ARADIA: oh i spent some time in other doomed realities and timelines and came back before anybody could tell i was gone

Hm!

We knew she spent a LONG time in the dream bubbles, enough to talk to “pretty much all of the Nepetas”, but she was actually able to access a universe or universes and hop between them? That’s not something any time traveller we’ve seen has been explicitly able to do intentionally before, quite like she’s describing.

DAVEBOT: oh just out for a bit of fun then DAVEBOT: just hopped on over to a different reality DAVEBOT: real casual like DAVEBOT: oh hello dont mind me just popping in to see if it really is as doomed as they say it is DAVEBOT: did not disappoint ARADIA: yes almost exactly like that :) DAVEBOT: who did you hang out with are they cooler than me ARADIA: it is complicated to explain DAVEBOT: oh ok nevermind then DAVEBOT: all clear

Yep, he’s kinda bewildered. Is this Pesterquest stuff she’s referring to? Did she stop by Pesterquest?

DAVEBOT: a whole alternate universe ripe with the coolest motherfuckers imaginable ARADIA: you were there too i threw your air conditioner into the sun DAVEBOT: wow thats fucked up DAVEBOT: thats not where that goes at all JADE: these events are not-canonical. ARADIA: rude

Ah! Yeah, almost certainly Pesterquest. (Still haven’t played that and have little inclination to now that I’m more sure we aren’t being gaslit with intentional continuity errors, just disappointed by actual continuity errors.) Oh! And that makes a bit more sense because I imagine that’s Black Hole territory, and that territory outside of Canon seems pretty rich and easy for time-travellers to hop between stories and timelines willy-nilly. As they’re apt to in fanfics, which is the most appropriate way for things to be in that realm!

DAVEBOT: is that the trope of being hundreds of years old but looking young forever patently sucks ass DAVEBOT: a plot device an asshole would write ARADIA: :( JADE: that is not what i am trying to say at all. DAVEBOT: hmm wow yeah thatd really be a sort of pot/kettle situation i guess DAVEBOT: i cant believe im the only woke one here DAVEBOT: its hard being such a visionary AND such a fine metallic specimen DAVEBOT: but im an altruist first and fucking foremost ARADIA: so selfless JADE: yes, the greater narrative is truly blessed by your beneficent presence. DAVEBOT: oh so you got jokes now huh JADE: i have always had the ‘jokes’ of which you speak, but i have heretofore exercised restraint in laying you low. JADE: i possess knowledge of many of your iterations, as the scope of my powers allows me to exist in several narrative structures at once. DAVEBOT: but can she see why kids love the sweet cinnamon taste of cinnamon toast crunch JADE: i do not know, or care, what that means. ARADIA: neither do i :)

I’m actually really enjoying this conversation

JADE: its cultural significance to you as an earthling is wasted on the two of us entirely, as we have not conflated the misguided notion of clinging to nostalgic cereal advertisement trivia with socially relevant conversation.

Pff she literally checked her meta notes just now to learn what the cereal ads were after admitting she didn’t know what it meant and pretending not to care

> ==>

Oh, closer look at Davebot. Are those actual SHAPED shades over his robotic eye bulges? Weird, I thought it was just a lazy line drawn between them with red sharpie at first, Sans style. That would’ve been funny.

> ==>

Ohh, I get it. I was gonna say that was an unwarranted reaction... but he just realized that the Time-wait puns will be coming from BOTH his shipmates from now on. That’s gotta be a downer. :)

> ==>

HOLY

FUCKING

SHIT

IS ALT-CALLIE LAUGHING!??!?!?!??

That’s REALLY, REALLY GOOD!!! SHE’S ALREADY LAUGHING OCCASIONALLY THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY

“BEST NARRATOR” COFFEE CUP

SHE’S ADORABLE

> ==>

Ah, was that Jade kicking you out? Or just the multiverse punishing you for being briefly happy :(

--oh, end of the update. Guess that’s it for now!

...

Alright I know I’m A BIT BEHIND on covering the HS2 commentary,

But

I really would rather wait on that a bit longer if that’s alright. Real busy and stressful week or two. (Found out my hair is starting to thin noticeably at age 31! Quite suddenly, too. Blood test looks fine so it’s nothing serious... gonna see a doctor to check if anything can be safely done about that, it’s really hurting my self-esteem more than I thought it would. Didn’t think it would hit my emotions that hard when it eventually happened, knew it was likely but not so SOON... really messing with my anxiety every time I accidentally touch my hair, now. I’ll deal with it.)

If I sound really aimless in this post, I think it’s cause I am? My mental and emotional energy’s REALLY drained. I’m glad that June/July break in HS^2 happened when it did, and I’m definitely glad there’s apparently plenty in HS^2 I can really enjoy, if this update is anything to go by. Maybe this comic can help lift me up instead of knocking me down. :)

See y’all later! More Patreon commentary blogging catchup after some other upd8.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #Homestuck Theories #Homestuck Theory #spoiler #spoilers #Classes and Aspects #Space and Time #Aradia

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call-me-merlyn · 4 years ago

Text

I found a list of my favorite things you ever said to me. I cried in a way that I haven’t since I was a small child- broken by my parents’ words, mistakes, and anger. I curled my knees to myself and remembered that I can do hard things. I started to wonder where we went wrong. Because my feelings for you never changed. But then I realized that was never the issue. These words I read now ring as true today as they did over the four years you wrote them. But I want them back. I want you back. I want pragmatism and growth. I want to talk about the hard things and work them through. But I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you anything because you don’t want to hear it. Because you’re hurt and you want space. So if you stumble upon this blog- the one I told you not to look at all those years ago- I will let a few snippets of your words remind you. Mind you, these are 12 out of about 30.

1. Baby. I want the future with you. It just hit me so hard. I want the visions I have. I want us and I don't see that changing. We are the most beautiful couple I have ever encountered. Not just because we're both convinced the other is drop dead gorgeous, but because I see such magnificent potential in us, together. We are that rare couple that could actually have the dream life that everyone wants and fears is impossible or that they don't deserve it. Health, happiness, adventures, perfect children, successful careers, growth and excitement, cuddles, intellectual stimulation, respect for each other, kisses that leave us breathless, freedom, good friends that we both care about, a lovely home, a dorky dog or five, all the sex we can handle, our families coming together wonderfully, and true fucking love. I want it all with you and I believe that we can have it with all my heart. Ugh I want it and I'm so excited to build towards the future we want. With you. Every damn day, one day at a time.

2. Morning love. To build a home? I'll always like yours more. I'm binging your music this morning. Speaking of songs that make me cry. Night in shining armor? I love that whole analogy. Your words are one of my favorite things about you. I love the music that spills from your lips, whether you're singing or laughing or reading or teasing me. It's all heavenly music to my ears. I'm so proud to be your person, your once and future someone. I love you so much. The dark times have passed baby, you brought the light back into my life.

3. This one's hard to explain. I've never met someone who is such a clean harmony. Your identity, your character, is a beautiful, pure chord. Every interaction I have with you I hear that resonance, and the notes weave together perfectly. That chord resonates with who I am on such a deep level, and I could hear it from the very first moment we interacted. I want to listen to that chord every day, to hear it form your melody, day in and day out. Puzzle out it's layers and listen to you add more. And to play my own song to match yours, to create our own wonderful song in this life.

4. You elicit feeling so well with words, sometimes it makes me feel inadequate

The way you express yourself so effortlessly

Because I've always prided myself on communicating verbally

But it comes pretty effortlessly to me too

Especially when I talk about you

I know I keep coming back to this, I'm sorry

But it resonates so strongly with me

To imagine you as a song, chord, or melody

The way your music weaves with mine

Haunting, ethereal, and divine

You make my eyes and heart shine

With love and affection, at my most painful times

When I can't feel it about myself

You come to my house and put happy memories upon my shelf

I want to show you how much you mean to me

So that you will always see

You are my light

And in the middle of the night

When I roll over and feel your breath

On my neck, I don't fear death

Because a life next to you is a life worth living

The love I have for you is a love worth giving

5. I was watching How I Met Your Mother, and to be honest that show really means a lot to me. I'm not sure why I bonded it with it so hard, it feels kind of silly in retrospect, but I did. In the episode, the main character runs into the girl who left him at the altar for another man, and they talk about true love and who you choose to be with. And the guy has an open moment about his yearning for that special connection that people find so rarely. That spark between people that's so unique and magical when it occurs. The song Careful by Michelle Featherstone plays in the background. I'm sure you've heard it, and it just pulled at my heartstrings. Maybe listen to it as you read this? Bc I am as I write. It makes me think of you. I've said it before, and the words fall flat, but I'm so damn grateful for you. Every piece of you. The fractals, the perfectly formed little moments of unadulterated Merlyn, that come together to form this perfectly cohesive being of fucking light. You know me. And I don't like to admit that I falter, or that I need help from anyone. It goes against what I've been trained to be by my father, my experiences, and my own cynical nature. Before you walked into my life...I wasn't entirely happy. I was missing something. I could feel it. And it made me ache. I went looking for it everywhere, even though I wasn't sure what it would look like when I found it. But I knew how it would feel. And you... you rescued me. From my own damn self. I'm prone to loneliness for a number of reasons. I'm solitary. I like to be independent. I'm proud. I can be harsh and judgmental. I get exhausted by humanity. I can be very sensitive when I'm vulnerable, and I don't like to give more than a handful of people the power to touch my heart. But since you walked into my life? I don't have to look anymore. I have never felt such constantly genuine, gentle, fierce, and unselfish support from anyone. Not from my parents, not from friends, my cousins, my lovers. No one has ever looked at me the way you do. No one has ever been so unyieldingly loving. Every time I have trusted you with more of my heart and my self, you do your absolute best to make me feel valued and loved. No matter how that best manifested, I have always felt your effort. You are always careful with my heart. I used to carry around this utter, soul crushing feeling that I missed someone. Someone vital. But there was no one to miss. And I didn't know where to direct that desire for connection. I got lonely because I wanted someones company...that I didn't know. But since I met you, I haven't felt that even once. I have only rarely felt lonely, and even in those moments, it was because I fucking missed YOU. Your laugh, your touch, our connection. And that's such a revelation to me. To know the face of the person I feel I've been missing all this time. It's been you. I love you, Merlyn. You are an unparalleled treasure to me.

6. God damn it Merlyn, I have so much love for you. I'm so lucky to have you, the thought of losing you is a nightmare. I want late night quesadillas and then to push each other to eat right. I want to scoff at each other's baby names until we get to ones we both love. I want to be your shoulder to lean on, cry on, or try to dislocate with a kimura. I want yours to be the same for me (maybe without the kimura bit?) I want to sing duets with you and write stories on lazy Sunday afternoons. I want to make you grin and I want to make you bite your lip. I want to hear your breathing every night when I go to sleep. I want to put Tristan on my shoulders, have a debate with Chris, try to get your cat to like me. I want you to cuddle into me and let me hold you at night even when I get hot because you're the most precious fucking thing in the world to me. I want you to train with my dad and shop with my mom. I want to get drinks with your mom and laugh at your dad's dirty jokes. I want to travel with you, go jet skiing on tropical islands and throw snowballs at each other in the mountains. I want to walk around crowded cities with you until I get too anxious but you tell me to chill out and stop being such a baby about it. I want to hear my daughter call you mother. I want to see you spin like you did when I first walked you home. Nothing brings me more joy than the thought of sharing the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between with you. Nothing is worth jeopardizing that future for me. I love you with all that I am. Count on it.

7. I just read all your words top to bottom and they hit me hard. I've been looking at them as bits and pieces. One day, one note at a time, not a tapestry. All together in one sitting, I can just feel where your heart was, and maybe still is. I hope it still is in some ways, because I've never been loved like how you love me. Not with such admiration or surety. I've never been wanted the way you want me. It makes me feel simultaneously unworthy and determined to live up to your love. It breaks me to feel the pain in your pen strokes. I want to wrap you up in my arms and fend away anything that would ever make you cry. I hate myself sometimes for making you cry. It breaks me every time, a corruption of my purpose. Every time, to read the simple words "today was hard..." It rips me apart. I love, live to see you smile. To laugh with you. To make music with you, whatever the form. I'm sorry for all the pain I've ever caused you, my darling. It's never my intention. You are my most precious gift, and words fall short of expressing the breadth and complexity of my feelings for you. They boil down to what you've written over and over again though: I want this life with you. I want all the complications, all the routine days, all the late night phone calls, and the adventures. I want to walk around knowing we have the same last name. I want you. Endlessly I want you. I wish I could pull a fragment of that feeling out of my chest and give it to you just so that you'd understand. God I miss you. I love you. You are my partner, and I hope that stays true for the rest of our lives. I can't say it enough. You are everything to me. I want you to express every part of you, never stop, because I love them all. Every mellifluous note in your melodies, every word of poetry in your fascinating mind, every fierce moment on the mat, every tear that falls in your fragile, vulnerable moments. I want to be there. To give you love and to be the best partner I can be. For you. God I can never say enough

8. Kay I'm heading to bed so gonna write this out. It's difficult. Love defies definition by its very nature. Which is a paradoxical statement right out the gate but whatever. I started writing my response in a philosophical approach but it didn't feel right. There's no need to ramble about Forms or essence or any of that philosophy mumbo jumbo. All that matters is how you opened my eyes. I used to think that love was about passion above and to the detriment of everything else. I used to think that love and pain were joined at the hip, inseparable. I used to fear that love was a curse, a burden, a surrender. I used to think that to fall for someone was a trap, and that you were taking a terrible gamble by giving someone the power to destroy you. I used to think that relationships were ropes and that love was a noose. I used to think that love was jealous, demanding, forceful, combative. I used to think that love was sporadic and messy. I used to think that there was no true, sustainable happiness to be found. You've turned it all around. Hell, you've upended the board and thrown away the rulebook. You've shown me that love is a balance of passion and choice, that they should play off each other build each other up. One is useless without the other. Passion will burn you out, but so too can you drown going through the motions. I've been through both. You're the only one that has struck the balance with me. You've shown me that the only necessary pains from love are the growing pains. I've been given and dealt horrible wounds, been through wars. Our relationship is the only one in which both parties can put their weapons down. You've shown me that love is a tank of oxygen when you're drowning, a shoulder to lean on, an investment. Trusting you with my heart has liberated and empowered me. I believe that trusting me with yours has done the same for you. We use that understanding of each other to lend strength, to give joy, to protect. You've shown me that relationships are lanterns and that love is the sun. You lit up my world. You've shown me that love is generous, thoughtful, gentle, supportive. You've shown me that it's steady and pure. You've shown me that happily ever after isn't just in storybooks. It's attainable. We have an obligation to chase it. We've been given a gift. And I will be grateful for it for the rest of my life. I will cherish it. I will cherish you. You've given me everything. You are my true love. Goodnight I hope you sleep well

9. Darling, gorge yourself on my love

I pray to God that it’s enough

To fill you up and keep us above

The water line of that rising slough

Darling, gorge yourself on my heart

I pray to God it’s what you need

Ignore the pain in the darker part

Come home again to me to feed

Darling, gorge yourself on my mind

I pray to God it’s what you want

Those angry echoes you may find

Don’t let them drive you from this haunt

Darling gorge yourself on me

I pray to God I’m what you crave

I know I’m flawed but I can be

The one who saves you, the one you save

Oh darling, I’ll gorge myself on you

On your mind and body, heart and soul

So darling, gorge yourself on me too

To keep us human, keep us whole

10. I want us to be tethered by the sea, to back each other to the hilt, to paint the walls red with love, to get lost in the light. Baby I promise I will take true care of you, tell you that some things last, and know you better than your piano. Because you found me. You came out of nowhere, you made me fall in love with a single touch, and this ain't a haunted house no more. I can't take my mind off of you. Only you can help me to forget the terror that comes and goes in waves. You keep me warm, and I know that all will be well and we'll be just fine. So don't give up love. Three more months, flyin your way home to me. We'll be inches apart and even closer at heart. So send me your location, cause I'm jealous of the wind that ripples through your clothes. Put your eyes on me, and I know a place that we can get away. Say you won't let go, tell me it's real, and let's go somewhere only we know. We won't need to take our clothes off to have a good time, but I'll get the lights and you lock the door, cuz we won't leave that room til we both feel more. Cause I see it all without the lights. No one will ever see you the way my eyes do. You are something to behold. Elegant and bold, you are unforgettable. You are the fire and the flood. Last night I woke the fuck up, realized I never wanted anything so much as to drown in your love. If you could read my mind love, what a tale my thoughts could tell. I feel life for the very first time: love in my arms and the sun in my eyes. Ohh I fall apart, and I can't help falling in love with you. I still can't believe that I found love where it wasn't supposed to be. Right in front of me. At (college). I made a fumbling play for your heart, and the act struck a spark. I want to be with you for the rest of my life and beyond. No grave can hold my body down. I'll crawl home to you and go straight into your arms. I'm in love with all that you are.

11. You always wonder about the future. What makes you different from the others. There are infinite answers, but some of the biggest ones are that..you make me understand and feel things that people always say but never mean. Until you, I've never truly wanted all of someone. And I mean it when I say I want ALL of you. I am in love with every inch of you, every word that comes out of your mouth, every little habit, every quirk. I have wanted every piece of you in every moment that I've known you without fail. I have never adored anyone or anything so much. You are perfection to me. In the truest sense of the word baby. You make the cliches make sense. You make them feel not cliche. It's incredible. You make sense in my bones. I am so in love with you. I can picture nothing more glorious than a life with you. That's how I know you're the one. Because it's obvious. And when it's right, it should just he obvious. Easiest choice in the world.

12 Goodnight ____. I hope you sleep well. I really enjoyed hanging out and listening to you play tonight. I know you were half joking about how I should be paying you compliments, but your music abilities really are such a gift. It always makes me happy when you use them. You get this energy about you that’s so wonderful to see. I’m listening to your soundcloud stuff again now. Been a while since I’ve done that, haven’t had access to the account for a bit. I wish you had more of your stuff on here. It’s all so lovely. It always makes me think about us. You don’t seem to care for it much, but especially To My Future Someone. I hope I live up to all you dreamt I’d be when you wrote those words. I hope to the gods I’m the one you sang about. Because you are everything I ever wanted in a true love, and more. Things that I didn’t even know I needed. You’ve made me a kinder, much more grateful man. And a happier soul. You deserve the best in this world, and I’ll always do my utmost to be him. I’m so in love with you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, my light. Sweet dreams.

When did the thought of losing me stop being a nightmare? Because the hurt was never more than this. Never more than this love. You said in another snippet that you’d do anything to be the person I built a home with; you’d do your best to be the my person and to never hurt me. But you don’t want to be with me. And you chose your nightmare over your dreams. And I still choose you. I still chose you every second of every fucking day. It was my nightmare too and I’m living it.

But, I’m changing. I’m harder now. The tears don’t fall quite as easily as they used to. And at least I know who I am now. I am a warrior. I am beautiful. I am strong. I am new. Don’t think 8 weeks can change someone?? Come see me again. I’ll show you exactly who I’m not anymore. The only thing that hasn’t changed is my love for you.

And if you want to lose these words and this love, so be it. I won’t fight you. I won’t fear you or that anymore. I don’t want to be the only one fighting. I can’t. And I won’t be afraid of my worst nightmares because they have come true and even though I pray I won’t lose you, nothing in this life is certain. If you don’t want to fight, I will be someone else’s light someday. And I will shine unashamed; unabashed; strong and sure. I will bring beautiful children, music, and love into the world. But until then, I’ll be my own light, and set my darkness aflame every morning, just as I have since the day you left. After all, there’s not much darkness left anymore.

#journalentry #long reads #personal entry

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kenkamishiro · 5 years ago

Text

Ishida Sui’s Review of 2019

I didn’t think I’d ever finish this with my onslaught of classes including pharmacology, but I somehow managed! 6k word count, the longest TL I’ve done to date besides Parvati’s interlude for FGO. Lots of insight into Jack Jeanne’s production and what Ishida’s been up to for the past year. It was tough to translate because it was so long, but I had a lot of fun.

Let me know if there are any mistakes, I’m sure there’s a whole bunch. Have fun reading!

Original can be found here.

＊＊＊

2019. I’m reflecting on this past year while flipping through my agenda. Since I’m writing this for my sake, there’s going to be a lot of sections without much explanation.

January

○ This was when Jack Jeanne had yet to be announced, so I was mostly doing preliminary work at the time. Stuff like “BU” and “character facial expressions” will be finished some time this month, is written in my schedule book.

○ New Year’s party in Tokyo from the 16th - 19th. The New Year’s party is a joint party that’s comprised of the 4th editorial department (Shueisha’s seinen magazine branch) that’s held every year in January. I attended the party with the staff every year during serialization, minus my first year.

2019 will be the first New Year’s party since the series ended, but I thought I should stop inviting the staff to attend since we’re not working together anymore (plus it’d be a hassle), so I didn’t really invite anyone. But the day before the event, Editor M brought up the topic inside the taxi and asked, “Are none of the staff coming this year?” (Even if they’re invited now, it’s going to be impossible, asking them to fly the next day and causing a ruckus…) When I replied, “Hey, I’m sure it’d be fun if you invited them and they all came~”, the editor contacted Goubaru-kun, and after said, “He said he’s going.” Guess he wasn’t busy. In the end, the staff during serialization and several people from OB and OG came, almost identical to the lineup from previous years, and it occurred to me that maybe I should have just invited them from the start.

Anyway, at this year’s New Year’s party, I don’t really remember much of what happened. I talked with my senpais from back when I was an assistant for Kingdom, and outside the venue I sobered up from the agoraphobic dizziness I was feeling inside. At the second party I remember people talking to me haphazardly and being photographed. I wish I’d refused. Also, I was sexually harassed by Rikudou Matsubara, my senpai from the same region as me. This New Year’s party will be my last.

February

Briefing session for the game held in Tokyo. Key visual created. It says here [on the agenda] that I want to go to Kagoshima. Every week there’s a checklist for 10 km of jogging and weight training 2-3 times a week. I spent about a week doing some composition work. It ended up being helpful for me, but it made me decide not to work anymore with people with different levels of interest from me.

○ TRPG is written for the 28th. Usually we use the DX (Double Cross) system, but this time one of our participating players, M’s schedule was under mysterious attack. As game master, taking consideration of everyone who’d made time in their schedules for tonight, I thought we could switch to Cthulhu and asked them to wait an hour. 2 hours later I finished coming up with a scenario and began the session. It was fairly fun.

March

Finish BU this month, is clearly noted down. BU stands for bust-up, which are drawings of characters in standing poses [sprites] that are common in ADV games. Normally, since it takes a huge amount of work, the BU work is always divided up. The original drawings are done by the illustrator, in this case I do the base illustrations (line drawing & colouring), and using them as the base, the department sharing the work cleans up the line drawings and recolours it...that’s how the process goes. But since I’m a mangaka and don’t have the technology needed to make gaming assets, I thought it’d be best to leave it to the pros in that field, so that was how that stage proceeded. At that point in time at least.

I also had plans written down to go to Kagoshima. Looks like I didn’t go.

○ TRPG on the 25th. Player M’s schedule lined up with ours, so we played DX with 6 PL plus me as GM. We went to the aquarium, were attacked by witches, and so on.

April

Finish BU, is faintly written down. It seems like the work was more or less completed earlier this month.

○ High school friend K’s wedding on the 6th. Up until then I’d only been to two other wedding receptions. The weddings were for a different friend from high school, and Tajika-san, one of my senpais from Kingdom. This suddenly reminds me of that time at Tajika-san’s reception, when I took a super early flight because I absolutely didn’t want to be late whatsoever, but I ended up not being able to fly for about an hour and a half because of engine trouble or whatever, so I entered at almost the same time as the bride and groom during the reception…

K’s wedding was the first time in my life where I was present all the way from the wedding to the reception, but how should I put it, I was struck by a beam of light. I don’t know who he’s getting married to, I have no clue what their relationship is like. But I was somehow bombarded...by all these thoughts that became jumbled in my head, like the energy in this place, the power of their oaths, questioning what it was, how light isn’t always justice.

I got the feeling that this was what proper, respectable humans take part in, but since I'm fine with not being a proper, respectable human, I decided to not do anything other than what my heart desires.

I'm definitely not good with places where I’m in the spotlight. But congratulations.

○ “Play Sekiro” is strongly noted down. Thank you for supporting me in the first half of 2019.

○ TRPG for the 29th - 30th. DX. Player M’s character dies.

May - June

My schedule book is starting to look more scattered now. On the other hand, since I’ve got a good memory of this time, I can write while recalling the events.

○ I did the covers for the Touken stage play book.

I drew the cover illustrations for the Touken [Ranbu] stage play that Mikasano-san, who I’m grateful to for his work on the anime and movie scripts for TG, worked on. In my mind, it feels like I'm watching the back of who I'd consider my older brother in the creative world, or a fellow comrade on another battlefield fighting to the death. I think it came out quite charmingly, so I’ll include the links for now. Link 1 | Link 2 | Link 3

During this time of work for Jack Jeanne, I was working on “model sheets”. Blueprints for the characters’ attire, not just from the front but also the internal structure.

Unlike most other games, Jack Jeanne has “performance costumes” in addition to normal attire. Because of its “revue” theme, costumes that will be worn onstage needed to be prepared. I was shocked when I suddenly admitted that I needed model sheets for 5 different performances (spring, summer, fall, winter, final) for the 6 main characters, making 30 designs in total.

Back in the TG era, these kind of drawings that I just explained, or drawings that needed a lot of layers, were a pain in the ass. Plus I wasn’t good at them, so I thought that I didn’t want to do it for the rest of my life if possible. But it seems like I have to do this myself. With a sense of determination, I decided to work solely on this for all of May. At the same time, I made nothing but curry for all my meals. There’s no deep reason behind it, but my aim was to kinda boost my ability to concentrate daily by choosing to be decisive in that action.

○ Working on model sheets It came with an unintended effect. Because I spent a month on work that required balance and consistency, my right-left checking skills got better, and completely unrelated, I improved in drawing perfect copies. The design work for the model sheets itself became really fun to do, starting around when I became obsessed with the scarf design (sumo wrestler drawing) I definitely couldn’t use for Neji’s summer costume. I discovered that it’s precisely because I’m not good at this that my labour bore fruit. I feel like this was my experience for the latter half of the year.

July

The cast members were chosen. Unlike TG, there are 6 people + 1 person who can be referred to as the main character, so it was interesting to have a cast with some breadth.

Seems like lyrical work was the main thing I worked on.

Lyrical work. In Jack Jeanne, each performance contains several songs to sing and dance to, so each one is supposed to be sung. ...hence the lyrics.

The topic of what to do with the lyrics was brought up in November 2018. What happens typically is that, let’s say there’s singing in an idol game, then a company that specializes in it is asked to produce the songs. Even for Jack Jeanne, there were several candidates I could pick and choose from. But after a quick look-through, frankly speaking, they all looked the same to me. There’s one person that’s good, it’d be great if we could get them...is what I thought, but, “Even though I don’t have the skills, I’m the one who understands this world the best,” crossed my mind. ...should I try? I tried it. To be honest, I was super embarrassed since it’d be seen by a lot of people, but it evolved into, “Who cares if you’re doing it?” And so Jack Jeanne’s lyrics were tasked to me.

I mentioned this earlier, but there are multiple songs for each performance. So if you combine those plus the opening and ending songs, that makes 17 songs in total. Lyrics for 17 songs that I’m fully responsible for. What the hell...am I doing? Maybe it was from that moment that I started losing it.

Including the lyrics that I’d been working on bit by bit every month, the remaining ones were finished in one go this July. By the time I finished everything, my current state was, “Give me more songs...let me write more lyrics!” But it wasn’t over just yet.

August

Every time I meet someone I tell this story. I’m thinking of keeping it up. Here I am, relieved to have finished the lyrics, when a message pops up on the Skype group chat. It’s from Yamashita Daisuke of Broccoli.

To briefly touch upon Yamashita Daisuke, he is a young man who’s been involved with this project since October of 2018, and a poor soul who was tasked with conducting very important meetings on his third day of working at the company.

The producer from Broccoli was going on maternity leave, so he was scouted as her replacement. As an aside, if I have to be honest, the exchanges between me and Towada-san, and Broccoli’s Jack Jeanne team up until then were quite frustrating. “How about doing it like this?” they would counter. And we’d respond with something like, “This part is going to be developed later on, and since this will become foreshadowing for the entirety of the story, it can’t be modified that easily.” This kind of situation, having to explain everything in detail one by one, going 3 steps forward and being held 2 steps back, had been going on for about 3 years, so the two of us would often whine about it over drinks, going, “When should we quit, this is ridiculous,” etc.

Finally when things began going more smoothly, the producer who was leading the project took her leave, so I wondered if we’d be able to get along with Yamashita Daisuke, but he was, how should I put it, very diligent. For the last year I've been working with people who don’t put in their best effort, so I was very hopeful and thankful to him.

But I digress. This was the gist of the message that Daisuke sent.

“Kosemura-san’s who’s in charge of musical composition wants ‘scratch vocal tracks’ for when the singers are recording.” “Does Ishida-sensei happen to know anyone he could ask for this favour?” “I’m sure it won’t be a problem for you!” “Frankly speaking, it’s okay even if they’re bad.”

Huh. Well, as you might have already guessed, even with the lyrics, it’s impossible to really understand the song at first sight without knowing what kind of rhythm, what kind of emotions are being expressed in the bar measure. Of course we’d need ‘scratch vocal tracks’ to explain the general feeling of the song.

Now, what Daisuke said was, “Do you have anyone you can ask? It’s okay even if they’re bad. Or even you can do it.” But if I found a “it’s okay even if they’re bad” kind of person, we’d still have to show them how to sing it and explain how the rhythm goes. Daisuke already knew which was probably why he asked for the favour. “The person writing the lyrics would be able to make the scratch vocal tracks the fastest.” ...come to think of it, the demo songs that Kunimitsu sent me every time that were sung using Vocaloid, weren’t they also scratch vocal tracks?

Daisuke must have been in a pinch trying to figure out how he should ask me candidly. Ishida-sensei, I couldn’t just ask you to sing it, so I had to ask in a roundabout manner.

I’d already given my answer, but I was still hesitant. It’s true that after I finished writing the lyrics for the 17 songs I’d already lost sight of myself, but if I sang, my singing would reach Broccoli and Kosemura-san’s team’s ears. But I couldn’t just leave poor Daisuke hanging.

So I consult Towada-shi, whom I’d been collaborating with in creating the scripts for Jack Jeanne, for advice. (He had been in charge of TG’s novels, and I’ve known him for a long time.) “Did you check Skype?” “I did.” “What do you think?” “Start by looking up scratch vocal tracks,” so we paid a visit to YouTube. The first search result that came up for ‘scratch vocal track’ was a video of a vocalist who was used to sing a scratch track for AKB or something. I see, so that’s what it looks like. Innocuous, but I could see it was very professionally done.

And the second result that came up was Tsunku♂-shi. The figure of Tsunku♂-shi himself recording a scratch track for his idols. The producer himself became an idol, and was singing really cutely, in his emotions and how he sang it. “This is it?” I said. “Yeah, it is,” Towada-shi agreed. If Kosemura-san and his team, and the people who will be performing the songs have to listen to it, it’d be a disservice to them to half-ass it. I don’t like people who don’t try their best. That means I have to show that attitude myself. Let’s come out of my shell for poor Daisuke as well.

“You’re gonna become Tsunku♂.” “Yeah...I’m gonna be Tsunku♂!” And that was how I became Tsunku♂.

I replied to Daisuke on the Skype group chat. “Understood, I’ll do what I can.”

So this guy, who doesn’t even know what the ‘D’ in DTM stands for, first downloads the software, and begins setting up a recording environment. Other work is pushed aside. I set 3 days to work on this.

I timidly begin working on the scratch tracks. From the perspective of someone who doesn’t have to listen to their singing for a living, it starts out as a living hell, but you get used to it as you listen to it over and over.

And so I kept learning new things. I noticed I was harmonizing with myself.

Just like Tsunku♂-shi, I’d change the voice for each character. If it was Jack (male in a male role) I’d sing like a man, and if it was Jeanne (male in a female role), then like a woman, while the main character Kisa (female) should sound cute... No, Kisa needs to be cuter! I re-recorded her part many times. Depending on the song, I’d sing for 7 people. I was Jack Jeanne now.

Tsunku♂ (I) recorded 17 songs in 3 days, and sent the data first to Towada-shi. Since I was now Tsunku♂, I no longer felt any sense of embarrassment.

“I listened to it,” the reply came, and I called him. Towada-shi was roaring with laughter. I regained the embarrassment I’d forgotten.

“Oh no, I was laughing ‘cause I was impressed,” he said, but my heart was already as fragile as that of an abandoned dog.

“Even this is a big help to Kosemura-san, and Daisuke should be grateful, right?” Yeah. Although Towada-shi guffawed at me, Daisuke will surely thank me. And then he’ll definitely tell me what a good job I did!

I dumped the music into the Skype group chat. “I did what I could,” I added.

How will Daisuke react to my Tsunku♂? I waited restlessly. Three days later on August 5th, a formal message arrived after it was received.

“Thank you very much. We will schedule a meeting with Kosemura-san…”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. My hard work got dismissed with, “Thank you very much.”

Daisuke, why? I thought you were in a pinch, so I...were...were you fooling with me from the start? Answer me! Daisuke! Just tell me I did a good job, or follow up with something, I’m fine with anything! So much for my heart being like an abandoned dog, it’s more like a grown-ass man left naked on a snowy mountain. I did what I could! This feeling was welling up inside me, but was it myself that managed to do it?

○ Later, at a meeting with Kosemura-san “It’s great that you could do this much for us. You didn’t have to do all that.” With the gist of those words, a warm blanket was finally placed over my heart, which had almost frozen to death.

“I didn’t know how to respond. I wasn’t sure if Sensei was the most who did it in the first place,” Daisuke said, so I decided to satisfy myself by threatening, “I’m gonna tell this story until the day I die.”

September

○ Responses to the Questions to Ishida Sui contest We did a “Ask anything to Ishida Sui” contest as a project for the art book “zakki:re”, where purchasers could apply with a postcard. I was writing the replies for them.

I thought there’d be a lot more questions about TG or its contents, but surprisingly there were a lot of questions asking for life advice. There were quite a few questions that I had to seriously think about to answer.

It was kinda tough since there were over a hundred of them, but I thought it’d be nice to get in touch like this every once in a while.

○ BU work for Jack Jeanne Once the music-related tasks like lyrical composition and scratch vocal tracks were completed, I worked on BU. ...BU work? Wasn’t it finished back in April?

Well, a similar situation arose just like what happened with the lyrics. Regarding sprite quality I might not be able to beat the pros, but since I’m the one who best understands how the characters look best and their body balance, I had decided to do all the line drawing colouring myself in June. I had no clue whether I’d make the deadline or maintain the quality, but thanks to Broccoli’s understanding, I was allowed to make it myself.

I realized once again that I’m terrible at splitting up work. If I can do it by myself, I will.

Plus, it’s, how should I put it, starting from my TG days, even though it wasn’t a lot I got to see various types of workplaces. I’d see places where there was no sense of responsibility whatsoever, or the work may have been divvied up appropriately, but it felt like they were making something without a sense of purpose, like a main plot line that isn’t going anywhere.

It’s impossible to accomplish big things with that kind of stance, and I understand that the more people that intervene, the more uncertain the core becomes, so I didn’t like that kind of approach. It makes me wonder whether there’s any meaning in creating a work that’s conservative and unchallenged, and if it’s nothing more than a money grab.

Since I don’t have any desire for material things, getting fed up about it is useless, but I just can’t help thinking about it.

Of course, it may be difficult to get what I want 100% of the time, but I want to create things in an environment that I think is beautiful, even in places that I’m slightly involved in.

...in other words, BU work is tough, but I began remaking the sprites once again by myself. This was the toughest work I’ve ever done out of everything, including the serialization...

○ Scratch vocals training camp at the end of September I went to the recording for the scratch vocal tracks. Based on the scratch tracks that I made, we got professional vocalists to sing it again properly. This is what the actual cast would use as a reference to sing. (So my version was like the pre-scratch vocal track.)

I was stuck in Tokyo for almost a week. Wake up, get ready, go to the recording studio. Come back at 8 or 9 pm, rest and sleep, repeat.

It was like I was back in school, and since I don’t have a steady lifestyle, I enjoyed it.

Kosemura-san’s team is really great, and I know I mentioned this before, but I felt like their workplace was a very healthy production site. When I was drawing manga, I never had much time to talk with fellow manga artists, and I’ve never had the chance to experience what other professionals’ workplaces were like, so it was very exciting for me to see people as professionals tackle one thing seriously. The vocalists were as amazing as I expected, and although my scratch tracks were played at a loud volume to annoy me, I had a great time.

The game might have a high level of entry, but it’s worth listening to just for the songs, is what I truly thought.

○ Parting words to Editor M-shi This might have been back in August, but from 2018 to 2019 I had a lot of things on my mind, so I began talking to the editor.

In between the 11 years of serialization starting from my rookie days, I’d received guidance from him so it wasn’t easy, but I expressed to him that we should keep our distance for any future works.

“I want to become absorbed in myself, not to Ishida Sui or Tokyo Ghoul,” I told him. The other part said he also felt the same way, and accepted it. The next time we meet, I hope we can talk about what we’re into, what we’re going crazy over, he said.

And so, 2 months after that conversation was the scratch vocals training camp in Tokyo, and I had the chance for the two of us to talk again. That day I was completely tuckered out from recording the scratch track, but it was a day filled with accomplishments.

He took me to a restaurant with delicious food in Ebisu or somewhere, and after concluding our brief business meeting, I tried throwing out the cliched, “So, what are you up to lately?” As the lead writer, there was a part of me that was curious about how he was doing after that talk we had.

The editor began talking about homemade curry.

...that’s what he’s into? I decide everything from selecting and picking the ingredients myself, and next time I want Ishida-kun to also see how delicious the curry is...he told me passionately, but how should I put it, the conversation wasn’t very spicy.

The food was delicious.

October

○ BU work

What’s hard about BU work is that it’s difficult to separate the layers according to the face, hair and clothes, and they all have to have the same style and touch to it. If it was manga, then maybe...no, even in manga, there’s still some need to match the outfits, but it doesn’t really matter to that extent.

It’s because I don’t like game sprites. “This character has so much energy from their sideways pose! Amazing!” This never happens…

Around this time of the year, my older sister called this elaborate task, “the task you’re probably the worst at.”

○ The bean life I’m not really fat in particular, but I made up my mind to try dieting. At the time, my body fat percentage was at 18%, and I’ve never been below 10% ever in my entire life, so I’m thinking of aiming for that. Instead of eating rice with unseasoned chickpeas and black soybeans, I began my lifestyle of consuming vegetables and cuts of meat with less fat. Hopefully I can achieve my goal in about six months’ time.

○ Ano-chan, Honda Keisuke, and I After Ano-chan left “You’ll Melt More!”, her official Twitter account removed every single account she was following, but for some reason only two people remained. Those two people were Honda Keisuke and Ishida Sui. To Ano-chan, Honda Keisuke and Ishida Sui belonged in the same category. After some time passed, even we were removed, but I consider this one of my hottest mysteries of 2019. Ano-chan! I’ll always be waiting, so let’s have tea some time with Honda Keisuke!

November

○ BU Need I say more.

○ Main cast’s first recording session from the 26th - 27th.

I visited Tokyo with Towada-shi to supervise the main cast members’ recording session. Wow, everyone was so amazing~

Of course, not just the main characters. Terasaki Yuka-san who plays the main character, Tachibana Kisa, was wonderful as well.

In this kind of game genre, the position as the main character feels less important than the male characters, but I want her to stand firmly in this story’s script. I thought it’d be nice to have the main character not stand out too much and have her watch over the male characters, and I felt that Terasaki-san’s voice and acting fit that image perfectly.

About the cast members, it seems like there’ll be a chance to speak to them eventually, so I’ll come back again.

○ 1 month into the bean life I’m steadily losing weight. Basically I always work from home. I go to the gym and supermarket 2-3 times a week. I started cooking for myself. I got a brand new refrigerator to replace the one that suddenly broke. It actually cools things down now. Living standards have risen.

December

○ I break off ties with M who I played TRPG together with. He was a former classmate who was even chief assistant at some point during the series’ run, but eventually he ended up getting fired due to falling asleep at work. He said he’d attend the last session for the story that day (although his own character had already died), and I was working on a schedule to accommodate him, but once again he cancelled at the last minute.

It’s fine to cause trouble for me (although I’ll probably get pissed), but I can’t overlook treating others the same way. And it’s not the fact that his schedule didn’t match up, it’s because he was complete trash who didn’t know how to behave like an adult once he made plans with others, that I felt sorry for the other TRPG people who took time out of their schedules. Since I felt ashamed when I was together with him, I decided I’d had enough.

This was a year where I cut ties with a lot of people, but I think what they had in common was that I was ashamed to be with them. From now on, I don’t want to associate with such people.

What’s more, when I finally told him, he didn’t even try to deal with it and just gave up, responding, “So that’s how you felt about me. Okay. My bad.”

I won’t go anywhere with those kind of people again.

○ The bean life ⇒ the potato life. I changed it to potatoes.

○ BU is over...

On December 17th, I finally finished the BU work that I spent ageeeeeeeees on.

Although I said that serialization is tough, as long as I finished 18 pages a week that was it (although there were times where I was chasing myself with other work), so I could finish it as long as I didn’t sleep. I somehow managed to finish both the manuscripts and the colour illustrations this way, so expecting BU to be similar, I wasn’t really scared about it never ending, but BU truly was despair. When is this gonna end? I’m even working super hard… This is how it went on the entire time for over a month.

There were about 200 different sprites I had to make myself, including the different costumes and poses, and I had to do all of them.

For one thing, when, “This process is necessary,” came out, I had to go through the same process roughly 200 times, that it felt like I was facing the final boss who already transformed many times. Also, it’s like not equipping myself with a lot of equipment and recovery items in the previous town, but the dungeon I somehow managed to enter is extremely dangerous and even though there’s no safe points anywhere in sight, the boss suddenly comes up behind you, and you go I’m gonna die I’m gonna die

○ If you eat a lot while you’re losing weight, you’re going to have a bad time.

On December 15th I had trouble concentrating, so I tidied up the living room, created a space in the middle of the room, and darkened the lights. After an hour of meditating, only the sound of my breathing could be heard in the room, and so I went back to work with renewed concentration after confronting the issue (like a monk?).

On December 16th, I’ve been working the entire time since morning. I thought today was going to be the last day, but an entire day has passed and I don’t have any energy...

I’ll buy a midnight snack, replenish my energy, and end it once and for all. I’m trying to lose weight, but I went to the convenience store while thinking about how I’m gonna eat a katsu sandwich (I didn’t have the energy to cook).

While looking for something at a convenience store I can eat during weight loss, I think back over the last few months.

Like how it seems like BU is finally over, how a lot of things have happened, how I’m working hard, how lately I’ve been eating only potatoes, vegetables and meat.

And then I suddenly thought, “I wonder if the reason I don’t have any energy is because I haven’t had any rice lately.”

...I thought I should go on a diet in October, so I’ve been living a very modest life since then. Thanks to that, my weight has steadily decreased, and my body fat percentage has gone down 3% to 15%. What will happen if I continue with my relatively strict dietary restrictions during this difficult time?

...even if you’re losing weight, there’s a technique you can set up to binge eat during periods where weight loss stagnates, called cheat day (though results may vary), but what is it that makes no-cheating so inefficient even for weight loss?

...should I have a cheat day today?

“Huh, is it really okay?” I asked my mind. “Do it!” was the answer I got. From that moment, everything around me morphed into things I could eat.

No exaggeration, my knees trembled.

I crammed into my shopping basket carbohydrates, carbs, more carbs… It’s okay just for today, I say as I shove cream puffs, dorayaki, pudding, Family Mart chicken and ice cream. (Even if it's a cheat day, it’s probably not a good idea to take non-nutritional foods, but shh.)

With food in both hands and in high spirits, the first thing I ate was the delicious part of the Family Mart chicken.

I groaned loudly, all alone in the room.

Alright, let’s finish this work! I was energized, but my blood sugar levels spiked so much that I felt extremely sleepy and went to bed instead.

The next day on the 17th, I wake up at 4 am and immediately notice something unusual. My body is burning. I’m sweating.

I immediately wake up, and overflowing with energy, I head for my desk. I’m working actively, and I finish the BU work. It felt like I was pushing forward with only positive energy, feeling uplifted.

I break out a laugh at a slight joke I found funny from a foreign drama (The Mentalist) I’m playing while working. The greenery of the plants and the lighted sink glisten, and the scenery is vivid.

What is this?

I suddenly recall the story of a YouTuber I saw recently. He lives in a region where medical marijuana is legalized, and he explained in detail what changes would occur if you smoked cannabis.

To put it roughly, you feel calm and your senses sharpen. Trivial things can become funny, and funny videos can make you roar with laughter.

Then maybe...I thought, I'll watch Nagareboshi (a comedy duo) on YouTube. Usually I go, haha, that's funny! But that day I exploded with laughter...all of their videos were just too funny.

I learned that when you’re losing weight and suddenly eat a lot, it alters your mind and body as if you smoked cannabis. (※ Just to be clear, I don’t know what cannabis is like.)

Thus the BU work ended with me being high as a kite.

(※ I’m covering it with mosaics for now. I’ll remove it once I can announce it.)

○ I stopped playing TRPGs. I’ve been doing it for about two and a half years, but it also helped me in honing my creative skills. I’d sometimes perform, so it was useful when I was recording the scratch vocals… It was a good experience, managing to vicariously live the energy of ending a story. It was a story about a group of friends, so it was easy to appreciate.

Summing up 2019

After the weekly series finished in 2018, I was in a daze for a few months, but in 2019 I worked only on Jack Jeanne for the year.

This year I tried various things, and trite as it may seem, felt the possibilities within myself expanding. I had many opportunities to realize how important it is to keep a distance from bad things that don’t do anything for me.

During my work on Jack Jeanne, I vaguely thought about my future creations. The work I’m doing now in game production is fun so I wonder if I can keep working in this field, but I’d also like an environment where I can release things more constantly.

I can’t promise anything specific, but I’m going to work on things that I want to do.

I look forward to what 2020 has to offer. Have a happy New Year.

2019.12.31 Ishida Sui

#Jack Jeanne #Ishida Sui #Translations #my translations #time to hibernate

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armandismed · 5 years ago

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My (Updated) Masterpost for Asexuality [2020]:

Some Youtube Videos I found Really Lovely and Validating:

Debunking Asexual and Aromantic Myths

Ace-Spec and Are-Spectrum Book Recommendations

And Some LGBTQIA+ Channels That Bring Up Asexual Experiences:

Rowan Ellis

Problems of a Book Nerd

Jessica Kellgren-Fozard

Some Shows with Confirmed Asexual Characters:

Sex Education

Bojack Horseman

Liv in ‘Emmerdale’ (UK Soap)

Historical Asexuals/ Demisexuals:

Emily Brontë: Emily Brontë was a very private person and as such it’s impossible to be entirely certain of her sexual orientation. Some Brontë scholars believe she died a virgin, never having had physical relationships with men or women. However, most Brontë scholars think that the content of her novels would suggest she may have been asexual, but she was not aromantic.

J.M. Barrie: The man who wrote Peter Pan into existence, was reportedly asexual. His marriage was never consummated and ended in divorce when his wife cheated on him. Because of his relationship with his neighbor children, and the subject matter of his books, some speculated Barrie was prone to pedophilia. Those who knew him closely vehemently deny Barrie ever exhibited such behavior. Instead his lack of sexual relationships was more likely due to his asexuality.

George Bernard Shaw: Renowned playwright George Bernard Shaw was a man far more interested in intellect than sex. He never consummated his marriage (also at the request of his wife, Charlotte Frances Payne-Townshend) and was a virgin until 29. Shaw told friends he appreciated the ability of sex to produce “a celestial flood of emotion and exaltation” but only as it compared to the “conscious intellectual activity” he strove for with his work.

Isaac Newton: Isaac Newton’s supposed asexuality is based on his recorded behavior and lifestyle. He had strict religious views, never married, was obsessive in his scientific careers, and supposedly died a virgin. Whether he truly lacked sexual attraction or was simply too immersed in making massive scientific discoveries to have a sex life is unsure.

T.E. Lawrence: Tragically, T.E. Lawrence – a man immortalized in the film Lawrence of Arabia – was sexually assaulted while held prisoner during The Great War. His lack of sexual and romantic relationships in life were mostly attributed to this trauma but some scholars argue he may have been asexual. He had no documented relationships with men or women. Most notably, since it was the turn of the 20th century, Lawrence was known to be non-judgmental of homosexuals. His personal orientation may have motivated his tolerance.

Florence Nightingale: Interestingly, though “the Florence Nightingale effect” is a situation where a caregiver develops an attraction to the patient they are caring for, the effect’s namesake, Florence Nightingale, was likely asexual. The famous nurse never married and instead chose to devote her life entirely to her work. She even refused a marriage proposal from a suitor who had been pursuing her for years. Nightingale rarely discussed her personal life and the term “asexual” was not widely used at the time, but asexual activists and scholars strongly suspect she lacked sexual interest.

Nikola Tesla: Nikola Tesla, the revolutionary engineer who was instrumental in the invention of electricity, also lived a life of celibacy typical of asexuals. He showed very little interest in sexual relationships throughout his life, preferring to focus on science. Many asexuals describe their lack of attraction as a blessing allowing them sharp focus. Once again, we have a person who could have been too busy (and brilliant) to focus on relationships, but who’s asexuality likely allowed him to be busy (and brilliant). [Fun fact: I am actually related to ol’Nikola. Sometimes it’s nice to even think about someone in my family being asexual, because it makes me feel like we’d both be able to get along together when we get fixed in our little studies, research, and schemes ♥]

Frederic Chopin: Famed composer and pianist Frederic Chopin is supposed to also have been asexual. While he lived with writer George Sand, she noted in her biography that their connection was affectionate without being sexual. She described their affair as “eight years of maternal devotion,“ also noting, “He seemed to despise the courser side of human nature and…to fear to soil our love by further ecstasy.”Whether Chopin was uninterested in sex, or had reservations about consummating the relationship for other reasons, is unclear. Many scholars believe the famed pianist lacked sexual desire altogether.

John Ruskin: Victorian art critic John Ruskin was known to be particularly uninterested in sex. Though Ruskin was once married, he reportedly showed no interest in getting physical with his wife. Typical of other asexuals on this list, his marriage ended having never been consummated.

Young Adult Fiction/ Books about Asexuality (NOTE: Some of these are coming out later this year, August and September 2020):

How to be Ace: A Memoir of Growing Up Asexual by Rebecca Burgess: Brave, witty and empowering, this graphic memoir follows Rebecca as she navigates her asexual identity and mental health in a world obsessed with sex. From school to work to relationships, this book offers an unparalleled insight into asexuality.

Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, And The Meaning Of Sex by Angela Chen: An engaging exploration of what it means to be asexual in a world that’s obsessed with sexual attraction, and what the ace perspective can teach all of us about desire and identity. What exactly is sexual attraction and what is it like to go through life not experiencing it? What does asexuality reveal about gender roles, about romance and consent, and the pressures of society? This accessible examination of asexuality shows that the issues that aces face–confusion around sexual activity, the intersection of sexuality and identity, navigating different needs in relationships–are the same conflicts that nearly all of us will experience. Through a blend of reporting, cultural criticism, and memoir, the misconceptions around the “A” of LGBTQIA and invites everyone to rethink pleasure and intimacy.Journalist Angela Chen creates her path to understanding her own asexuality with the perspectives of a diverse group of asexual people. Vulnerable and honest, these stories include a woman who had blood tests done because she was convinced that “not wanting sex” was a sign of serious illness, and a man who grew up in a religious household and did everything “right,” only to realize after marriage that his experience of sexuality had never been the same as that of others. Disabled aces, aces of color, gender-nonconforming aces, and aces who both do and don’t want romantic relationships all share their experiences navigating a society in which a lack of sexual attraction is considered abnormal. Chen’s careful cultural analysis explores how societal norms limit understanding of sex and relationships and celebrates the breadth of sexuality and queerness.

Let’s Talk About Love by Claire Kann: Alice’s last girlfriend, Margo, ended things when Alice confessed she’s asexual. Now Alice is sure she’s done with dating… and then she meets Takumi. She can’t stop thinking about him or the rom-com-grade romance feelings she did not ask for. When her blissful summer takes an unexpected turn and Takumi becomes her knight with a shiny library-employee badge, Alice has to decide if she’s willing to risk their friendship for a love that might not be reciprocated– or understood. [A bisexual POC protagonist; adorable fluffy, easy and sweet read].

All Out: The No-longer-secret Stories of Queer Teens Throughout the Ages: Take a journey through time and genres and discover a past where queer figures live, love, and shape the world around them. Seventeen of the best young adult authors across the queer spectrum have come together to create a collection of beautifully written diverse historical fiction for teens. [This features several different types of queer stories, from transexual freedom fighters, but also a very sweet asexual love story set in a seventies roller rink with a POC protagonist].

The Pride Guide: A Guide to Sexual and Social Health for LGBTQ Youth by Jo Lanford: Jo Langford offers a complete guide to sexual and social development, safety, and health for LGBTQ youth and those who love and support them. Written from a practical perspective, the author explores the realities of teen sexuality, particularly that of trans teens, and provides guidance and understanding for parents and kids alike. [Although this is a little rudimentary, I found it a great resource even in my twenties for someone coming out, or to slowly but carefully come out to those who may be uncomfortable or not understand asexuality, or not see it as a valid sexuality or lack thereof].

Tash Hearts Tolstoy by Katie Ormsbee: Natasha ‘Tash’ Zelenka has found herself and her amateur web series plucked from obscurity and thrust in the limelight. And who wouldn’t want fame and fortune? But along with the 40,000 new subscribers, the gushing tweets, and flashing Tumblr gifs, comes the pressure to deliver the best web series ever. As Tash struggles to combat the critics and her own doubts, she finds herself butting heads with her family and friends - the ones that helped make her show, Unhappy Families (a modern adaption of Anna Karenina, written by Tash’s eternal love Leo Tolstoy), what it is today. And when Unhappy Families is nominated for a prestigious award, Tash’s confusing cyber-flirtation with an Internet celeb suddenly has the potential to become something IRL if she can figure out how to tell him that she’s a romantic asexual. But her new relationship creates tension with her friend Paul since he thought Tash wasn’t interested in relationships ever. All Tash wants to think about is the upcoming award ceremony in Orlando, even though she’ll have to face all the friends she steamrolled to get there. But isn’t that just the price you pay for success?

Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire: The story is set in a boarding school for teenagers who have passed through "doorways” into fantasy worlds only to be evicted back into the real world. It serves as something of a recovery center for boarders who find they no longer fit in, either in the “real” world or their own uncomprehending families. For a fortunate few it is just a way station until they can find their ways back to the worlds they do fit into; for others, it’s the least bleak choice in what may be a life-long exile. This unhappy ending for the students takes a terrifying turn when some of their number start turning up dead. A small group joins together in an attempt to expose the person committing these murders before it is too late to save the school, or even themselves.

The Invisible Orientation: An Introduction to Asexuality by Julie Sondra Decker: What if you weren’t sexually attracted to anyone?A growing number of people are identifying as asexual. They aren’t sexually attracted to anyone, and they consider it a sexual orientation—like gay, straight, or bisexual.Asexuality is the invisible orientation. Most people believe that “everyone” wants sex, that “everyone” understands what it means to be attracted to other people, and that “everyone” wants to date and mate. But that’s where asexual people are left out—they don’t find other people sexually attractive, and if and when they say so, they are very rarely treated as though that’s okay.When an asexual person comes out, alarming reactions regularly follow; loved ones fear that an asexual person is sick, or psychologically warped, or suffering from abuse. Critics confront asexual people with accusations of following a fad, hiding homosexuality, or making excuses for romantic failures. And all of this contributes to a discouraging master narrative: there is no such thing as “asexual.” Being an asexual person is a lie or an illness, and it needs to be fixed.In The Invisible Orientation, Julie Sondra Decker outlines what asexuality is, counters misconceptions, provides resources, and puts asexual people’s experiences in context as they move through a very sexualized world. It includes information for asexual people to help understand their orientation and what it means for their relationships, as well as tips and facts for those who want to understand their asexual friends and loved ones [A good beginning place to start if you’re considering your asexuality. Also provides reassurances about the most common stereotypes concerning asexuality].

Switchback by Danika Stone: Vale loves to hike, but kind of hates her classmates. Ash is okay with his classmates, but kind of hates the outdoors. So, needless to say they are both fairly certain that the overnight nature hike with their PE class is going to be a hellish experience. But when they get separated from the group during a storm, they have worse things to worry about than bullies and blisters.Lost in the Canadian wilderness with limited supplies, caught in dangerous weather conditions, and surrounded by deadly wildlife, it’s going to take every bit of strength, skill, and luck they can muster to survive.

Not Your Backup (Sidekick Squad #3) by C.B. Lee: Emma Robledo has a few more responsibilities that the usual high school senior, but then again, she and her friends have left school to lead a fractured Resistance movement against a corrupt Heroes League of Heroes. Emma is the only member of a supercharged team without powers, and she isn’t always taken seriously. A natural leader, Emma is determined to win this battle, and when that’s done, get back to school. As the Resistance moves to challenge the League, Emma realizes where her place is in this fight: at the front. [This is a third in a series, but the main character has recently come out as asexual at the end of the last book].

If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann: Winnie is living her best fat girl life and is on her way to her favorite place—Misty Haven and her granny’s diner, Goldeen’s. With her family and ungirlfriend at her side, she has everything she needs for one last perfect summer before starting college in the fall.…until she becomes Misty Haven’s Summer Queen.Newly crowned, Winnie is forced to take center stage at a never-ending list of community royal engagements. Almost immediately, she discovers that she’s deathly afraid of it all: the spotlight, the obligations, and the way her Summer King wears his heart, humor, and honesty on his sleeve.To salvage her summer Winnie must conquer her fears, defy expectations, and be the best Winnie she knows she can be—regardless of what anyone else thinks of her. [Another POC protagonist and promises to be a cute summer read in the vein of Gilmore Girls. Claire Kann’s first book was the adorable ‘Lets Talk About Love’ which reads as an asexual rom-com. This also promises to be absolutely precious.].

Immoral Code by Lillian Clark: Ocean’s 8 meets The Breakfast Club in this fast-paced, multi-perspective story about five teens determined to hack into one billionaire absentee father’s company to steal tuition money.For Nari, aka Narioka Diane, aka hacker digital alter ego “d0l0s,” it’s college and then a career at “one of the big ones,” like Google or Apple. Keagan, her sweet, sensitive boyfriend, is happy to follow her wherever she may lead. Reese is an ace/aro visual artist with plans to travel the world. Santiago is off to Stanford on a diving scholarship, with very real Olympic hopes. And Bellamy? Physics genius Bellamy is admitted to MIT–but the student loan she’d been counting on is denied when it turns out her estranged father–one Robert Foster–is loaded. Nari isn’t about to let her friend’s dreams be squashed by a deadbeat billionaire, so she hatches a plan to steal just enough from Foster to allow Bellamy to achieve her goals.

Loveless by Alice Oseman: The fourth novel from the phenomenally talented Alice Oseman - one of the most authentic and talked-about voices in contemporary YA.It was all sinking in. I'd never had a crush on anyone. No boys, no girls, not a single person I had ever met. What did that mean? Georgia has never been in love, never kissed anyone, never even had a crush - but as a fanfic-obsessed romantic she's sure she'll find her person one day. As she starts university with her best friends, Pip and Jason, in a whole new town far from home, Georgia's ready to find romance, and with her outgoing roommate on her side and a place in the Shakespeare Society, her 'teenage dream' is in sight. But when her romance plan wreaks havoc amongst her friends, Georgia ends up in her own comedy of errors, and she starts to question why love seems so easy for other people but not for her. With new terms thrown at her - asexual, aromantic - Georgia is more uncertain about her feelings than ever. Is she destined to remain loveless? Or has she been looking for the wrong thing all along? This wise, warm and witty story of identity and self-acceptance sees Alice Oseman on towering form as Georgia and her friends discover that true love isn't limited to romance.

The Last Eight by Laura Pohl: Extinction was just the beginning in this thrilling, post-apocalyptic debut, perfect for fans of The 5th Wave series. Clover Martinez has always been a survivor, which is the reason she isn’t among the dead when aliens invade and destroy Earth as she knows it.Clover is convinced she’s the only one left until she hears a voice on the radio urging her to go to the former Area 51. When she arrives, she’s greeted by a band of misfits who call themselves The Last Teenagers on Earth.Only they aren’t the ragtag group of heroes Clover was expecting. The seven strangers seem more interested in pretending the world didn’t end than fighting back, and Clover starts to wonder if she was better off alone. But when she finds a hidden spaceship within the walls of the compound, she doesn’t know what to believe…or who to trust. [I’ve read there is also aromantic representation in this book too, so helpful for the Aros out there as well ♥]

LGBTQIA+ Comics with Possible Asexual Representation/ Influence:

Lumberjanes: At Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hardcore Lady Types, things are not what they seem. Three-eyed foxes. Secret caves. Anagrams. Luckily, Jo, April, Mal, Molly, and Ripley are five rad, butt-kicking best pals determined to have an awesome summer together…and they’re not gonna let a magical quest or an array of supernatural critters get in their way! [I LOVE THESE COMICS SO MUCH I SWEAR THEY’RE SO DAMN CUTE ♥]

The Backstagers: When Jory transfers to the private, all-boys school St. Genesius, he figures joining the stage crew would involve a lot of just fetching props and getting splinters. To his pleasant surprise, he discovers there’s a door backstage that leads to different worlds, and all of the stagehands know about it!All the world’s a stage…but what happens behind the curtain is pure magic!

And Lastly, Extra Online Resources For Asexuality:

UCLA LGBT Campus Resource Center: Asexuality

The Trevor Project on Asexuality

Campus Pride: Asexuality

The Canadian Centre for Gender Diversity and Awareness

Asexuality needs to be a recognized as its own, unique sexual orientation, Canadian experts say

Asexuality.org

A Lot of Ace (An Ace Positivity Blog on Tumblr ♥)

#asexuality #masterpost #lgbt+#lgbtqia+#queer masterpost #queer rights #queer history #queer literature #you're welcome #but honestly I love everything on here besides the shows which I actually haven't seen outright #but it's good to know those are out there #also I need to read the newest books of lumberjanes and backstagers #because they're adorable #personal #a-lot-of-ace

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furbysciences · 5 years ago

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AN INHABITANT OF CARCOSA by Ambrose Bierce

(DISCLAIMER: Ambrose Bierce wrote this story and I claim no ownership to it or anything mentioned in it.)

For there be divers sorts of death- some wherein the body remaineth; and in some it vanisheth quite away with the spirit. This commonly occurreth only in solitude (such is God’s will) and, none seeing the end, we say the man is lost, or gone on a long journey--which indeed he hath; but sometimes it hath happened in sight of many, as abundant testimony showeth. In one kind of death the spirit also dieth, and this hath been known to do while yet the body was in vigour for many years. Sometimes, as is veritably attested, it dieth with the body, but after a season is raised up again in that place where the body did decay.

Pondering these words of Hali (whom God rest) and questioning their full meaning, as one who, having an intimation, yet doubts if there be not something behind, other than that which he has discerned, I noted not whither I had strayed until a sudden chill wind striking my face revived in me a sense of my surroundings. I observed with astonishment that everything seemed unfamiliar. On one side of me stretched a bleak and desolate expanse of plain, covered with a tall overgrowth of sere grass, which rustled and whistled in the autumn wind with Heaven knows what mysterious and disquieting suggestion. Protruded at long intervals above it, stood strangely shaped and sombre-coloured rocks, which seemed to have an understanding with one another and to exchange looks of uncomfortable significance, as if they had reared their heads to watch the issue of some foreseen event. A few blasted trees here and there appeared as leaders in this malevolent conspiracy of silent expectation. The day, I thought, must be far advanced, though the sun was invisible; and although sensible that the air was raw and chill my consciousness of the fact was rather mental than physical--I had no feeling of discomfort. Over all the dismal landscape a canopy of low, lead-coloured clouds hung like a visible curse. In all this there was a menace and a portent--a hint of evil, an intimation of doom. Bird, beast, or insect there was none. The wind sighed in the bare branches of the dead trees and the grey grass bent to whisper it’s dread secret to the earth; but no other sound nor motion broke the awful repose of that dismal place. I observed in the herbage a number of weatherworn stones, evidently shaped with tools. They were broken, covered with moss and half sunken in the earth. Some lay prostrate, some leaned at various angles, none was vertical. They were obviously headstones of graves, though the graves themselves no longer existed as either mounds or depressions’ the years had leveled all. Scattered here and there, more massive blocks showed where some pompous tomb or ambitious monument had once flung its feeble defiance at oblivion. So old seemed these relics, these vestiges of vanity and memorials of affection and piety, so battered and worn and stained--- so neglected, deserted, forgotten the place that I could not help thinking myself the discoverer of the burial-ground of a prehistoric race of men whose very name was long extinct.

Filled with these reflections, I was for some time heedless of the sequence of my own experiences, but soon I thought, “How came I hither?” A moment’s reflection seemed to make this all clear and explain at the same time, though in a disquieting way, the singular character with which my fancy had invested all that I saw and heard. I was ill. I remembered now that I had been prostrated by a sudden fever, and that my family had told me that in my periods of delirium I had constantly cried out for liberty and air, and had been held in bed to prevent my escape out-of-doors. Now I had eluded the vigilance of my attendants and had wandered hither to---to where? I could not conjecture. Clearly I was at a considerable distance from the city where I dwelt-- the ancient and famous city of Carcosa.

No signs of human life were anywhere visible nor audible; no rising smoke, no watch-dog’s bark, no lowing of cattle, no shouts of children at play--nothing but that dismal burial-place, with it’s air of mystery and dead, due to my own disordered brain. Was I not becoming again delirious, there beyond human aid? Was it not indeed all an illusion of my madness? I called aloud the names of my wives and sons, reached out my hands in search of theirs, even as I walked among the crumbling stones and in the withered grass.

A noise behind me caused me to turn about. A wild animal--a lynx-- was approaching. The thought came to me: if I break down here in the desert-- if the fever return and I fail, this beat will be at my throat. I sprang toward it, shouting. It trotted tranquilly by within a hand’s breadth of me and disappeared behind a rock.

A moment later a man’s head appeared to rise out of the a ground a short distance away. Her was ascending the farther slope of a low hill whose crest was hardly to be distinguished from the general level. His whole figure soon came into view against the background of grey cloud. He was half naked, half clad in skins. His hair was unkempt, his bear long and ragged. In one hand he carried a bow and arrow; the other held a blazing torch with a long trail of black smoke. He walked slowly and with caution, as if he feared falling into some open grave concealed by the tall grass. This strange apparition surprised but did not alarm, and taking such a course as to intercept him I met him almost face to face, accosting him with the familiar salutation, “God keep you/”

He gave no heed, nor did he arrest his pace.

“Good Stranger,” I continued, “I am ill and lost. Direct me, I beseech you, to Carcosa.”

The man broke into a barbarous chant in an unknown tongue, passing on and away.

An owl on the branch of a decayed tree hooted dismally and was answered by another in the distance. Looking upward, I saw through a sudden rift in the clouds. Aldebaran and the Hyades! In all this there was a hint of night--the lynx, the man with the torch, the owl. Yet I saw--I saw even the stars in absence of the darkness. I saw, but was apparently not seen nor heard. Under what awful spell did I exist?

I seated myself at the root of a great tree, seriously to consider what it were best to do. That I was mad I could no longer doubt, yet recognized a ground of doubt in the conviction. Of fever I had no trace. I had, withal, a sense of exhilaration and vigour altogether unknown to me--a feeling of mental and physical exaltation. My senses seemed all alert; I could feel the air as a ponderous substance; I could hear the silence.

A great root of the giant tree against whose trunk I leaned as I sat held enclosed in its grasp a slab of stone, a part of which protruded into a recess formed by another root. The stone was thus partly protected from the weather, though greatly decomposed. Its edges were worn around, its corners eaten away, its surface deeply furrowed and scaled. Glittering particles of mica were visible in the earth about it--vestiges of its decomposition. This stone had apparently marked the grave out of which the tree had sprung ages ago. The tree’s exacting roots had robbed the grave and made the stone a prisoner.

A sudden wind pushed some dry leaves and twigs from the uppermost face of the stone; I saw the low-relief letters of an inscription and bent to read it. God in heaven! My name in full!--the date of my birth!--the date of my death!

A level shaft of light illuminated the whole side of the tree as I sprang to my feet in terror. The sun was rising in the rosy east. I stood between the tree and his broad red disk---no shadow darkened the trunk!

A chorus of howling wolves saluted the dawn. I saw them sitting on their haunches, singly and in groups, on the summits of irregular mounds and tumuli filling a half of my desert prospect and extending to the horizon. And then I knew that these were ruins of the ancient and famous city of Carcosa.

Such are the facts imparted to the medium Bayrolles by the spirit Hoseib Alar Robardin.

Fin.

It was originally published in the San Francisco Newsletter of December 25, 1886. The city of Carcosa is used in the story ‘The King In Yellow’ by Robert W. Chambers, a book comprised of short stories which was published in 1895 by F. Tennyson Neely. Fun extra fact, ‘The King In Yellow’ is widely accepted to be part of the Lovecraftian Cthulhu Mythos.

#lovecraft #hp-lovecraft #book #took a long time #horror #short story

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d20owlbear-deactivated · 5 years ago

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Chapter 10: Queen

Art by @takamei

The story can be read in full here; the fic is 10 individual chapters looking into Crowley through the ages.

The inspiration for this specific chapter was drawn from a half-remembered comic I hunted down that was made by @arinavah (I hope you don’t mind I used this as inspiration, I forgot it was a comic until I was already part of the way through! and then I had to go find it!)

USA, Portland, Maine: Love of my Life, 1977 AD

The press and bustle of humans around him made Crowley feel small. In a way, he hadn’t in a very long time. The sort of small that feels alright, the kind of thing that means you’re a part of something bigger, something you wanted to be a part of. A commune with the souls of those around you in the purest form of expression, lead through these out of body experiences with music. Reaching the pinnacle of humanity.

Crowley felt like his soul leapt out from his chest and screamed, Do you understand me?!

And the resounding answer was a Yes! that felt like Love. It had been over six millennia, and for some reason, right here and now, this is when his heart felt like it connected with his body, held together by his soul, for the first time. The heartbeat drumming of eons past couldn’t compare, the solemn chants of choirs trained in the art of it didn’t stack up, nor did the most beautiful angelic voices[1] hold a candle to this.

Crowley was in a crowd of thousands, the centre filled to its maximum capacity and bursting at the seams. Thousands of heartbeats and the laughter and raucous cheers of those thousands–it was nearly overwhelming to think that there were more humans here than the sum of his years of life–quieted at the soft strains from on stage.

A few notes of a gently strummed guitar began, filtering through the crowd who was hushed in the quietest reverence the demon could ever remember being a part of. It was the sweetest lie Crowley had ever experienced.[2] Suddenly a clamor grew through the crowd as the man up on stage began singing.

[1] Crowley didn’t think much of them, angelic choirs are as much how they speak in their true forms as they are about praising the Almighty, and so it was nothing special. Except, of course, on the rare occasions he caught Aziraphale unawares and heard him then. But even so, this was something truly, beautifully, human. [2] Or, at least, it very nearly was. The sweetest lie Crowley knew was something else entirely and had quite a bit to do with the very angel the opening notes of this song invoked thought of.

Love of my life, you've hurt me You've broken my heart and now you leave me

Crowley’s heart clenched at the way the man up on stage swayed, his eyes closed and so very clearly feeling each and every one of his words. The melody of the song was understated, it wasn’t difficult to follow and could even be called simplistic.

It felt anything and everything but simple to Crowley.

It felt like fear, it felt like going too fast, it felt like speeding forward and accelerating at the speed of light only to throw his wings out inches from the ground and pull himself up out of a death dive.

It felt like all the things Crowley never wanted to think about but couldn’t stop it from circling in his head.

Love of my life, don't leave me You've stolen my love, you now desert me Love of my life, can't you see?

For the first time in a very long time, Crowley could feel the stinging sensation of tears gathering in his eyes. Angels weren’t meant to love like this. Sure they were built to contain and amplify the Love of Divinity, they were created to do nothing but. And even the Fallen, especially the Fallen, they weren’t meant to love in any way at all anymore. Their purposes burnt out of them, their Love. But here he was, the most broken of them all, still clinging to shattered shards of the Love he sorely missed and of the congregation he desperately wished to feel a part of again.

Perhaps that’s why he Loved the earth as he did, the humans and their ineffable humanity as he did. They had ways to come together, to connect, without ever having felt divine Love so clearly as an angel had, and yet they continued to prove themselves better and worse in turn than angels or demons ever could be. The sheer breadth of their ability to be escaped him in the ways unseeable colors did to the colorblind. Their unity overwhelmed him, their spirits rising with every note and falling in perfect harmony as they all sang of love so purely, so desperately hopeful.

Crowley couldn’t help but do the same. Even if he’d never heard this song before, this artist, his heart knew it.

You will remember When this is blown over Everything's all by the way When I grow older I will be there at your side to remind you How I still love you

#My writing #good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens crowley #Aziraphale #aziraphale/crowley #Crowley and Aziraphale #takamei #Queen #Love of My Life #comic #not my art #help I've fallen into Good Omens and I can't get out

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angeltriestoblog · 7 years ago

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Your Comprehensive Guide to Passing the College Entrance Tests

College entrance tests season is a time in my life that I look back on with equal parts pain and fondness, which somewhat serves as a justification as to why I’ve been putting off this post for so long. Although I spent many sleepless nights re-absorbing lessons I never even got in the first place—all while having to deal with agonizing self-doubt and anxiety—I guess it’s safe to say that it was all worth it. After all, ya girl passed three out of the four universities she applied for: I have yet to find out if UP is willing to take me under their wing, but whether or not they want me, I can say that I am very much contented with my results.

Since I feel I’m in a position to speak on a topic like this, I’m back at it again and ready to help anyone about to tackle the beasts that are the CETs this year. I’m dividing this post into three parts, which will contain tips on how to go about everything before, during and after taking what most consider to be the most important tests of your life.

Obligatory disclaimer: This is ridiculously long and not everything that I’ve written here will apply to you, but hey, if I were you, I’d start taking down notes.

BEFORE THE TEST

One thing most people fail to stress when giving advice on this topic is the importance of adopting the best mindset. Understand that the CETs are a very serious and urgent matter, for you are tasked with preparing for the succeeding chapters of your life all within a short time frame, but at the same time, don’t allow the pressure that comes with it to lead to overthinking and comparison that will ultimately distract you from achieving your goal: passing. Stay driven and positive, and focus on yourself.

Now, on to the actual studying part. I’d hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the best way to breeze through these exams without breaking a sweat is by being a good student all throughout high school. Be the type to maintain a stellar general weighted average, keep all notes taken down during the past four years in an expanding file folder instead of using them to wrap dried fish and join as many extracurricular activities as possible. If you’ve already failed at this, it’s time to proceed to Plan B: review school.

I personally didn’t enroll in any classes over the summer, because I thought they only took place during the month of April, which was when my parents had scheduled our overseas trip for the year. Well, apparently, I couldn’t have been any less well researched and by the time I found out, it was already far too late. So, I had made the decision to opt for self-study. For some reason, I was the only one in the household who was worried out of my mind: my parents were very much convinced that I would be able to handle reviewing on my own, and prove that review school was not a requirement for acceptance into prestigious universities. I was touched by their unwavering confidence in me, but every word felt like an additional kilogram I had to carry on my back.

I got by through borrowing old review modules from my dentist (Tita Meng, I have no idea how you’re ever going to read this, but thank you so much for saving my life… and also straightening my teeth) and downloading sample tests from the Internet for me to test my knowledge later on. My efforts never felt like they were enough for me though: I remember looking up the curriculum for each subject I needed to tackle on the website of the Department of Education, researching each sub-topic that was vague to me and Khan Academy-ing my way to proficiency. Definitely an unnecessarily extra way to tackle the reviewing process, but hey, my mind was very much laden with doubt and I was willing to do the most. I also put up cartolinas on my bedroom walls with formulas for different Math and Science subjects, which proved itself useful since I actually spend a decent amount of my time staring off into space.

If the thought of doing all of this alone is stressing you out, then maybe it’s time to go down what is considered by most to be the safe route: enrolling in a review school. Doing so will provide you with all the lessons covered during high school in the form of actual lectures with qualified teachers, and hardbound notes that often come with sample tests that resemble the real thing. It guides you through the application process as well as gives updates on the schedules of most universities, and helps in parts of the test that cannot be achieved by poring over textbooks such as essay writing and even techniques for plain old guessing. All these benefits seem to provide their students with the confidence boost to top everything off, and I admit that I did feel inferior to most of my peers at some point for this reason. They all just seemed so put together, so at ease with their binders and pastel highlighters that it made me go through a period of regret and resentment. Do not let the perceived advantage they have blind you, though: do note that even if attending a review school helps you ace the entrance test, it does not measure your aptitude nor your ability to handle the workload that you will have to face as you make your way in the university of your choice.

Because I had to do everything alone, I had firsthand experience when it comes to waging a war with time: it was truly my biggest enemy during this point in my life. It’s obviously crucial to create a schedule and follow it regularly. If you’re anything like me, you’ve read this in several self-help books or heard this over and over again on productivity podcasts but planning truly is key. First, list down all the topics that you want to cover, complete with the estimated time it’ll take you to master them. Then, distribute them per day evenly so you don’t end up overwhelming yourself and cramming so much information in your head that you barely get to retain anything. It’s important to have a contingency plan ready as well, in case you needed more time digesting a particular topic.

Eliminate all distractions while reviewing. This is a cardinal rule for studying in general, so it will definitely increase in importance during a time like this. One thing I found important is to tell yourself why you have to do it, so it’s easier for you to follow through. For example, I’m pretty addicted to watching YouTube videos, so having to cut down my marathons and look at the number of videos on my Watch Later pile up was a bit painful at first. But upon conditioning my mind into thinking that I’d rather spend my five month summer vacation before college binge watching all the videos I had missed out on instead of looking for a university that was still ready to accept me, it was much easier for me to cut down on it.

Remember to prioritize breadth over depth. Cover as many topics as you possibly can, going over the basic concepts and important formulas. Then, knock yourself out with practice tests so that you’re fully familiarized with them by the time CETs roll in, because you never know how even the simplest questions can be twisted around to baffle you. A common mistake most incoming seniors make (myself included) is overthinking what could possibly be asked and going too into detail when reviewing. In my defense, it seemed like the natural thing to do during a situation of panic but if I had only known, I would have been able to save so much of my time and devote it to mastering everything I had learned.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help if ever the need arises, whether it be from teachers, friends or upperclassmen. It might come off as a surprise to some of you, but there are many people who will be more than willing to help you, whether out of pity or genuine human decency. I asked tons of my classmates if I could borrow the notes they received from their review center, so I could learn more than I could have on my own (and maybe even compare their progress with mine). Sometimes, I’d disturb them at ungodly hours and call them up on Messenger to plead them to teach me the shortcuts in problem solving, mnemonics or acronyms. I was never the type of person to do that: honestly speaking, it felt like a direct blow to my pride to have to beg for something. But, it was my future at stake and upon remembering that, I no longer felt any shame [shrugs]

On another (but equally important) note: stay on top of your requirements for the different universities you’ll be applying to. Although they don’t normally start until July or August, it’s much better to get these out of the way as early as possible. Take it from me, who ran around Megamall looking for a photo studio a week before ACET apps needed to be passed. Stock up on ID pictures of different sizes, preferably 1x1, passport size and 2x2. Photocopy important documents like your birth certificate and grades forms, as well as your ID from the current or previous school year. Start thinking of who to ask recommendation letters from, brush up on your essay writing and interview skills and work on your CV if needed. Also, have a scanner ready if you plan on trying out for La Salle, since their application process is purely online. Be sure to keep track of your deadlines: don’t wait around for people to remind you, and please please please For The Love Of God do not cram everything until the very last second.

Strive to finish reviewing over summer break so you don’t have to worry about balancing CETs and academics, which is an entirely different playing field. I’ll come clean and say that I failed to do this, because there were still so many topics I couldn’t understand and questions I couldn’t find the answers to, even with the guidance of the Internet. Let me tell you, it was absolute hell as I didn’t have the time or brain capacity to digest lessons both for school and entrance tests. Please have mercy on yourself and focus on the classes you are to take during the school year, flipping through notes and flash cards sparingly when you have free time.

Now for the part that will probably be most useful to you all: the actual subject matter to study, focused specifically on the entrance tests for the Big 4 universities. Don’t use this as the sole basis of your review, since it’s not a guarantee that the topics covered this year will be the same as the succeeding ones. I remember looking up this one CET tips thread which said that the ACET was going to have mostly geometry-related questions. Since Ateneo is my dream school, I spent a ridiculous amount of time cramming everything from theorems to tangents in my head. So, you could just imagine my surprise when I actually took my test and was greeted by a maximum of four geom questions and a predominantly Algebra II and Trigonometry-centered Math portion.

ACET

Language proficiency

This test will assess your knowledge on basic grammar: correct usage of verb tenses, S-V agreement, analogy-type and a cloze test, where you are required to fill in the blanks with the appropriate word for the sentence. It also included an essay question about a particular word that differed from session to session. I had to make one on the word “superstition”, so I had written something on how I didn’t believe in them because I was raised by my family with a very strong faith in God. One tip people give out a lot is to try and relate your answer to either love for God or being a man for others, but do it only if it doesn’t come out forced. From what I remember, we were given 50 minutes to answer all of this, and I don’t mean to come off as boastful but English is and has always been my first language, so it didn’t serve as a problem on my part.

Mathematical ability

This test is feared most by previous test takers, and it was only when I crawled my way through it that I realized why it has that reputation. It’s composed primarily of basic algebra, algebra II and trigonometry questions, all of which are quite lengthy and require a decent amount of time to think through, especially if you’re not really the best in this subject.

Abstract reasoning

This test… Boy, what do I even say? It requires you to pick out the figure or shape that completes the pattern. There were 30 items all in all that needed to be accomplished within 10 minutes, and I couldn’t tell anything apart from each other. I feel anyone who tells you they took this test seriously and finished it without breaking a sweat is just messing with you. I don’t think there’s any way to answer this test without turning to our old friend (the shotgun method).

Logical reasoning

This test includes questions with a set of premises that you are supposed to analyze, and a list of choices containing possible conclusions that can be drawn from them. Your task is to pick the most logical one, which sounds like common sense at first. Apparently, this was a topic discussed in General Math, so there is a certain set of rules to follow. Not only did I not remember ever taking this up in my life, but I also skipped it during review so I had to borrow my classmate’s book and cram everything I could during ACET week (DEFINITELY NOT ADVISABLE). There was one part of the test that involved a lot of technical terms, which I did not read about or study but thank God ya girl was desperate enough and ended up finding hints in the instructions!

Vocabulary

Pretty self-explanatory type of test, with 25 words in five minutes. It seems overwhelming, but contrary to popular belief, it’ll be easy even for those who aren’t voracious readers.

Reading comprehension

This test will require you to fully understand the message of the text, and apply it practically or draw sensible conclusions from it. I breezed through this one as well, because I’ve been reading since I was in the womb, but this can prove to be difficult for those who aren’t used to it. I’ve been seeing this tip circulating that goes “Look at the questions first before the passage itself, so you know what to find” and although it can fool just about any lazy reader out there, I tried it for myself during the ACET because I was in the mood and it didn’t help me at all. If anything, it just slowed me down because I was doing twice the work: looking at the question then going over the whole thing to find the answer, then repeating the process instead of just reading the text once.

Numerical ability

This test was all word problems—age, work, mixture, speed—with a dash of ratio, proportion and variation. This was the last portion of the ACET, and not only was my brain fried to a crisp but I was also very eager to leave so this definitely made me want to scream as I was taking it. It could have been much easier if I had memorized the exact formulas, and practiced lots so I could work rapidly without sacrificing accuracy.

DCAT

Mema test

I don’t know the actual name of this test, but I called it as such because it was so all over the place it felt like the ones in charge of making the DCAT looked at the final draft, saw they were an entire subtest short and crammed these questions two hours before the deadline. It was a mix of both abstract reasoning and vocabulary, and was generally easy: the AR patterns were understandable and didn’t require a lot of analysis, while the vocab words were very few and quite common.

Math I

I read in this one CET tips post that this portion was, and I quote, “pretentiously difficult and time-consuming” and it’s absolutely true! It’s big on derivations of formulas and advanced concepts in algebra, it barely had any basics much to my dismay. My mental block during this part was at its peak: I didn’t know how to solve anything, so I simply substituted each of the missing values in the problem with a number and worked it around until both sides of the equation were equal. That obviously took a lot of effort, which stemmed from my refusal to let go of an item until I feel like I’ve tried my best in solving it. But, it doesn’t have to be the case for you, especially if you’re terribly pressed for time: don’t hesitate to skip if you can’t move forward!

Math II + logical reasoning

Undoubtedly the hardest part of the exam, because no one saw it coming and thus, no one was able to prepare for it. And to think I was already warned by my friends who took the DCAT the week before I did to review statistics: I went through my notes from Grade 9 on combination and permutation, completely unaware that it was going to focus on hypothesis testing and estimation of parameters, which we failed to cover in Grade 11. I thought I’d be able to get by, I remember even praying that there would be only a few items but the entire test revolved around it so I almost literally crawled my way through. As for logic, it was alright until they started using technical terms like I had no idea what modus ponus (hocus pocus?) is and I don’t think I’ve ever had to study that in my life, so I think it’s safe to say I didn’t perform well there.

Reading comprehension

This was pretty similar to the ACET, so the same description and tips apply. Nothing to worry about.

EAPP/Research

This test was the plot twist of the year: DLSU completely took out the traditional type of English subtest (identifying errors, vocabulary, cloze test, etc.) and replaced it with citing in APA format, the principles of academic writing and the parts of a research paper. I had no idea that this was going to be included, and thankfully, those who enrolled in review centers didn’t either so we were all pretty much on equal footing. But, I walked out of it without a scratch: I guess it’ll be easy for you if you contribute to the making of your research papers, but if you’re a freeloader, ayan diba sinabi ko sa inyo may araw rin kayong lahat O ETO NA YUN

Science

This test covers the four major areas: earth science, biology, chemistry and physics. It was so much easier than I expected, because it only centered on terms and definitions of important concepts. I was most worried about the physics portion, since I’ve always considered it to be my waterloo, so you could just imagine my relief when I saw that it was very formulas-based and could be aced by anyone who took it up in Grade 10. (Super long run-on sentence, I’m sorry) I definitely wouldn’t have been able to survive it without the help of Tyler DeWitt, the best Chemistry teacher anyone could ever ask for – I found him on YouTube during a moment of desperation and binge-watched all his videos the day before DCAT, and he is probably the sole reason behind my success.

Life skills

The easiest and best part of the DCAT, because it’s simply a test of your character. It provides you with a set of situations, and all you have to choose which one best applies to you—so, yes there are no wrong answers. It’s easy to think that the most logical way to answer would be to feign sainthood and pick which one makes you look like an Ideal Lasallian/Catholic/Person, but I advise you to stay as true to yourself as possible. Those in admissions have probably seen many people apply this strategy in the past, and will most likely appreciate your honesty and view it as a way of seeing a true glimpse of your character.

UPCAT

Language proficiency

I think I was only sure of about 75% of my answers in this test, and to think this was the easiest part of the UPCAT for me as language is supposed to be my forte. Although it revolved around the basics—identifying errors in sentences, cloze set, rearrangement of sentences to form a paragraph and vocabulary—it came in both English and Filipino, which really tired me out early on.

Science

Hardest test of them all, to the point that taking it felt like my brain was getting hit by different trucks all at once. It covered all four major areas, including earth science. There were a ton of tables, graphs and diagrams that needed to be interpreted, and experiments to be analyzed: it’s big on practical applications and understanding of concepts. Don’t memorize any formulas, acronyms and mnemonics as you definitely will not need it at all.

Math

This test ran through a little bit of everything: from basic algebra to geometry, trigonometry, word problems and even statistics, sequences and number theory. It’s important to memorize all the formulas and learn how to solve problems fast even if they’ve already been twisted around. Math has never been my strong suit, so at this point, I was very close to hyperventilating. I even remember shading the wrong circles for ten questions in a row because I skipped one item. I also took around three bathroom breaks at this point, and spent 30 seconds sat on the toilet praying.

Reading comprehension

This was the first time I ever loathed this kind of test, when it’s supposed to be my strong point. It’s just that the previous subtests were so mentally and emotionally draining, that I didn’t have the brainpower to tackle it. It didn’t help at all that the passages chosen for the UPCAT were not the usual narrative types that are actually entertaining to read, but were incredibly information and detail-heavy. (They made really good memes on Twitter, though: no one was over the patis, newsboy or Super Ferry 9 for a long while.) The best thing to do at this point would be to go for the easiest and shortest ones first, to give your brain time to repair and prepare itself.

USTET

Mental ability

This test seeks to assess your common sense through a mix of logical reasoning, analogical and basic language and arithmetic problems. I don’t think I have to give you tips about this part at all, because it’s that easy.

Science

This test also includes question on all four major areas, but the main difference is that there are close to no practical applications of concepts – surprisingly, UST only cares about the definition of terms. Thus, intensive review probably won’t be needed: you could just skim through your notes from junior high school and have a good grasp of what’s going to be included.

Math

This test had mostly basic algebra and geometry, as well as some word problems – nothing too difficult. One other fun thing was that there was so many of the same type of question, so if you have the formulas memorized and a certain technique in answering, you could get so many (if not all) correctly.

English

This test focused mainly on basic grammar, figures of speech and subject-verb agreement. There was also a tiny part about oral communication and research, which I wasn’t able to prepare for but it’s a good thing I actually bothered paying attention to my teacher in Grade 11 or else I wouldn’t have been able to answer a thing.

THE DAY BEFORE – DURING THE TEST

Now, normally people would tell you to rest the day before any big test: drop all books and notes and mentally psych yourself for the battle up ahead in the form of face masks and comfort food. Although it sounded incredibly tempting, I obviously didn’t follow it because I was running short on time and had so many things I had yet to fully understand. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t experience any adverse effects and even retained everything I had crammed into my head. So, you’re technically still allowed to review: run through flash cards and try a bit more practice problems if you wish. The only thing you have to make sure of is that you do not stay up late: sleep is crucial for memory retention and BASTA PARA DI KA LUTANG, and you do not want to realize that you’ve taken it for granted on such an important date.

Pack all your essentials the night before in (preferably) a small backpack that you can easily lug around. Bring two #2 Mongol pencils, an eraser, your test permit, a school ID just in case and food to snack on: my personal favorites of the season were seaweed crisps that I got for a buy one, take one deal in Robinsons Supermarket, raisins and trail mix. Scientific studies in the past have claimed that chewing motions can help stimulate your brain, but I just believe it just doesn’t feel right to engage in battle on an empty stomach. Coordinate with friends who’ll be in the same testing center as you, in case you won’t be able to survive in such an environment without someone to sympathize with you. Personally, I didn’t bother meeting up with friends for three out of my four tests because I wanted to feel independent and possibly run into new people.

If you’re anything like me and you hold on to God for dear life in almost every situation that brings you difficulty, don’t forget to pray for enlightenment and the capacity to accept His will, whatever it may be. As much as possible, try to hear Mass the day before your entrance test. Funny story, I was supposed to do this on ACET Eve, but we got stuck in traffic and missed the opportunity to. I ended up running to my parish while the staff were closing it (I didn’t even know that was a thing – what about the troubled souls who need guidance in the wee hours of the morning!) and muttering the most desperate prayer under my breath in a minute. I even lit a candle outside because I wanted to pass Ateneo that badly. Looking back, I found that it helped me lots because I was able to lift up all my worries to Him so I wouldn’t have to bring them along with me the next day.

On the test day itself, the best weapon to have in your arsenal is a good mindset. Walk into the testing center like you already passed, stroll along the corridors like it’s your first day in that university and look at every question as another step closer to freedom. Do not overthink or panic: I know it is much easier said than done, but it won’t hurt to fake it till you make it (sometimes, in situations like this, it’s the best option available).

Keep track of time limits: don’t be afraid to glance at the wall clock or your wristwatch from time to time so you can pace yourself properly. Don’t take too long on one item: if you don’t know what to do with it in 20 seconds, just come back to it when you have extra minutes to spare. If you’re not sure about the answer to an item, make the most intelligent guess you can by racking your brain for the very limited stock knowledge you have on that topic. Choose one letter to be your go-to choice if you really don’t know the answer: mine was C (for Christ, truly) although I don’t know if that’s still a wise decision because universities might start picking up on this strategy.

Look back on all your answers: if you have the luxury of time, re-read everything from the instructions to the passages to the choices provided, because sometimes, even if you were 110% sure of what you were answering during that moment, you may have missed something important. If you happen to be one of those beasts who come prepared enough and you’re completely sure of everything already, catch a quick nap to recharge those batteries instead of scouting for attractive fellow test-takers. I swear, there will be many more of them in college: at present, it’s best to exhaust all efforts into actually getting a university.

AFTER THE TEST

The minute the proctor makes you put your pencil down one last time and submit the questionnaire forward, let it go. Completely forget that it happened: don’t spend the succeeding days discussing answers with peers, as it will almost always end with you regretting things you can no longer change. Do not keep a countdown until judgment day ticking in your head either: choose to take this time to let your life return to its normal state. Shift your focus back to your academics for the school year, and be preoccupied with your interests once again during your free time. Remember to treat yourself as well, because we all know it’s not easy to study while simultaneously worrying about your future. After all my CETs, I made sure to eat out with my family and spoil myself with chick flick marathons and skin care products. Most importantly, be sure to keep praying as it is the key to accepting what happens in the future and regaining peace of mind. As cheesy as it sounds, trust in God’s plan for You and know that He has a reason for everything that is about to happen.

Now, on to the final stretch: the release of results. (This is a pretty timely thing to be talking about right now, since as of this writing, I’m waiting for UP to make a move within the week) If you pass your dream school—or any university for that matter—congratulations! Your hard work has finally paid off, and the promising future you’ve built up in your head is slowly turning into a reality. Don’t forget to thank all those who made this possible for you: God, your family, friends and teachers who believed in you through every sleepless night and mid-morning breakdown. Remain humble though, and be careful not to gloat in front of those who didn’t pass. I know you’re not really obliged to act a certain way to please them, especially during a time as joyous as this, but it’s all a matter of empathy: I’m sure you’d feel the same way if the roles were reversed. One thing you’re left to decide with if you’re lucky enough to pass more than one college is where you’re headed off to. Personally, it’s course over school: go for the program that suits you best and will help you pursue the career path you wish, since that will do you more good in the future than the reputation of any institution. If you are not entirely convinced by that spiel, do not hesitate to ask help from those you trust most: preferably family members, teachers and counselors. I left out friends, because I don’t think it’s a wise decision to choose a specific school just because that’s where they’re headed.

If you fail to make the cut, however, indulge in your right to cry right now. I’m sure that it must be disheartening, planning out a future in a school that ended up “rejecting” you in the end, but news flash: the race does not finish here! Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get ready for the results of the other schools you have applied for. Be sure to surround yourself with only people who are capable of uplifting your spirits and helping you believe in yourself during such a trying time. If the worst case scenario happens and you are left with no college at the end of the day, it’s time to get hustling: look for universities that are still accepting applications (some schools out there have entrance tests every month, and results come out instantly), or send in letters of appeal if ever you truly have your eyes set on a specific campus. That’s not something I have much expertise on though, but almost everything you will need to know is on the school’s official website.

And, there you have it! Everything I could tell you about the college entrance tests! I spent approximately three days trying to kick my writing slump in the ass: my eyes hurt and I may be suffering from carpal tunnel but all of that means nothing as long as I’ve been able to guide one hopeless soul out of the dark. (Yes, I patterned that after my comprehensive guide to surviving Grade 11 – my brain is dying, and I have no time to think of an ending catchier than that.) I’m on summer break now and I’ll be going to Korea next week, so expect a lot of lighter and more amusing content!

Stay in school, kids!

Angel

#angeltriestoblog #cets #college entrance tests #philippines #upcat #acet #dcat #ustet #cet tips #life dump #recs

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thiqgruvz · 4 years ago

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Interview With an Advanced Music Student

The interviewee requested that this song be linked for your enjoyment while reading. Hope you enjoy!

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This week, I’ll be interviewing one of my own music students, a talented young musician and visual artist who grew up both in Iran and in the U.S. She plays the piano brilliantly, with roots firmly planted in both western classical training and the jazz idiom, and with another flavor loosely reminiscent of Persian Traditional music that makes her approach to music making unique. Although she’s not yet 20, her playing is sensitive and emotional in a way that betrays her own breadth of experience and meticulous emotional awareness, much like captivating pull of her gentle yet mysterious shaded drawings. Although she’s requested to remain anonymous, she’s agreed to do this interview with me, for which I’m very grateful and excited, as I feel that her perspective is unique and refreshing, and a wonderfully relatable example of the human experience from living a life colored by an enormous variety of experiences and skillsets (including speaking three languages by the time she was 15) while slowly becoming more and more drawn to an art form until fully committing and rapidly evolving into a force to be reckoned with.

Q: How did you first come upon the piano? I recall you once mentioned that your family moved into your current house and the old owners had left their baby grand piano behind. Did you have access to a piano before that sparked your interest, or was it mostly curiosity until circumstances brought an instrument to you?

A: Actually in Iran, we moved to my grandparents’ house for a year, and we had a piano there because my grandma played piano. I used to dance as she played, and that got me into it. We moved to our apartment and got a piano there, which is where I started taking lessons, but that only lasted a few months. The teacher was sort of mean and she discriminated because she saw me as American. My next brush with it was in school where I got a rudimentary understanding of technique and started getting more into playing.

Q: How about visual art? When did you realize you felt an affinity for drawing?

A: I always liked to draw. My mom really encouraged us to do art and was very supportive of our artistic outlets. Even as early as kindergarten, it was also emphasized in school as well. I took drawing classes in Iran briefly, but it was mostly copying existing drawings and I quickly became bored, but continued drawing and making other visual arts on my own.

Q: When we first met, you already had a solid background in music despite relatively little formal training. Could you describe some of your earliest influences? What caught your attention about musical expression as a whole?

A: Well, my whole family was into music even though they didn’t really play instruments or study. They always had a respect for music and my mom introduced us to music from all over the world, from traditional to pop. My grandmother also used to love to sing and would teach me rounds to sing with her. When I was little, I wanted to grow up and become a musician, although at the time I was focused on vocal. The beginning of my education in public school introduced me to the basic mechanics of instrumental music in the form of melodies and chords on piano.

Q: As you improve as a musician and composer, what aspects of the craft have you realized were drastically more or less reccurrent themes than you thought they would be upon first exposure?

A: Before my public school experiences, I sort of though that music just happened. Like it came naturally and people expressed themselves how they might express thoughts but without the grammar…As soon as I tried writing my own however, I realized that structure was very much a part of it and that I needed to learn about this structure in order to express myself in a controlled way, much like the grammar I thought I was escaping.

Q: Were there things that seemed hard in the beginning but after practice were not, or things that seemed easy, but further nuance or higher standards for technique made difficult? And conversely, did you ever feel an improvement in technique hindering expressive capabilities that came naturally to you before you began training?

A: At first, I found the coordination of the two hands to be extremely challenging. I still think it is, but it definitely improved with practice, although it could be intimidating. I find that on the flip side there is a certain exercise-i-ness that comes into my playing as a result of stricter exercise type things I play during practice. I sometimes wish I could just play and not worry about my technique, but I’m always self-conscious about my technique when it comes to fluidity on the instrument.

Q: As you reach new levels, how has your perspective about the meaning of what you do changed?

A: Um… I’ve definitely taken music more to heart if that makes sense. It’s helped me to appreciate music a lot more as I learned about the challenges and teamwork involved… it made me respect musicians on a whole other level. Through training and becoming more aware of musical concepts, I’ve also really started viewing it more as a spiritual thing than “just music,” whatever that may mean to people. I guess music means many different things for many different people. Once I got really into it, it started to shape my life though and has taught me a lot of self-discipline. It’s also taught me a lot about self-worth and self-esteem. It motivates me to continue in my daily life when I face adversity outside of a musical context.

Q: Do you think your individual sound or identity as a musician relates more to your own cultural lens, such as real life experiences with your family and others in Iran and in the states, or more to the music or other art you’ve consumed and been influenced by? Further, if you think your art is mostly informed by other artists, what role do you believe your own life experiences play in the musical decisions you make? After all, your music is ultimately your expression of yourself in some form or another.

A: I think it’s a bit of both to be honest… I feel like my life experiences help me put more emotion into my work. I’m not really thinking of anything in particular about my life when playing necessarily, but music is absolutely about telling a story, and I think the emotional stories I tell with my music definitely have some basis in things I’ve lived. Listening to other musicians, I’ve definitely borrowed aspects from the work of other musicians that have resonated with me and found my own expression in their voices. I think on some level the collage of my heroes represents me.

Q: I feel like as our level shifts, although we’re always struggling with and working to improve at something, the things we can empathize with, excuse, or even not notice change. As a student who’s rapidly improving and grappling with challenging and complex topics, what advice do you have for students who are a little bit earlier in their journey than you are now?

A: Definitely keep pushing, even if you wanna throw your instrument out of the window. The more I pushed, the more I became competent at expressing myself musically, and I think a lot of my frustrations had come from the inability to do that. Practice things that challenge you, because even if it hurts and makes you feel bad to struggle with something like that, it’s the only way to move forward. That idea of pushing through adversity taught me about the world in addition to just music. Between that and the stories I’ve heard behind particular pieces of music and artists, I realized that music has a profound impact on people and can drive sociocultural change. It really is a universal language, and as a language lover, it’s definitely one I’d like to continue to cultivate.

Q: Certainly there’s overlap between the music you’re playing and studying and the music you’re listening to, but how would you categorize the role of the music we study and analyze compared to the music you seek out for listening pleasure or even encounter in your daily life such as in stores, movies, or the radio?

A: I think the music that we study for analysis benefits me because it teaches me about the history and framework of how music works. I’ve also grown a general appreciation for that, so when I listen for pleasure, I also listen for the structures that we analyze because I find that enriching to my soul. I think it’s really fascinating to see through to WHY we find pleasure in the music that we do and what makes it sound right. I guess I analyze some music just for the purpose of analysis, but I also analyze the music I listen to for pleasure, and I listen for pleasure to the music I analyze sometimes as well, so it all sort of bleeds into each other. To continue to develop our ability to analyze, we have to analyze different types of music to get a better picture of the whole.

Q: Although in an academic setting we describe what is happening in music largely in terms of music theory, and almost separately how the colors found in that theory make us feel in the particular musical context of a song, the most important takeaway is certainly how it makes us feel and what imagery it invokes or what experiences it enhances… What would you say the one primary commonality between all the music that touches you is, if there is one?

A: They all have intent to express. Some musics have resonated with me in the past and later on they didn’t touch me in the same way, but I understand that that’s due to a shift in my own headspace, and those musics are for those people in their headspace, so I think in general the music is for people to empathize with or get inside of or even release from a particular state of being.

Q: How has your musical taste changed since the beginning of your study? Would you describe this as a linear evolutionary process relating to the breadth or your awareness, or sort of a non-linear steeping effect where you learn through osmosis from all the music at once and after the fact apply it to the rest?

A: It definitely shifted the more I listened to a greater variety music. I have a greater appreciation for complexity now because I’m able to derive emotional experience from increasingly complex and nuanced music rather than becoming lost or overwhelmed by it and seeking more accessible forms of solace. Realizing that made me want to improve myself and my mind to be able to connect with it on a deeper level. I admire that it makes me think, and I feel that it’s capable of delivering a more multifaceted emotional picture to such a point where I still appreciate simple music on a mood-making level, but it no longer provides the same emotional stimulation if it ever did, so I’d say it’s been fairly linear yes.

Q: Given that you’re also an excellent visual artist, do you see your music fitting together with your visual art in the future?

A: Aw thank you! I definitely do! Even if I do make standard format albums in the future, I don’t want to reduce my visual art to just album covers. I have to think about that a lot more though, I’m not really sure what final form it will take, but I’ve been tossing around the idea of animated shorts that highlight the themes and imagery in the music to create a multimedia experience for more visual individuals, and to sort of ground some more complex music with an experiential story.

#music #musician interview

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garywonghc · 7 years ago

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How We Should Practice

by His Holiness the 17th Karmapa, Ogyen Trinley Dorje

In the Jataka Tales, it says:

After studying, make practice the essence. You will be freed from the stronghold of birth with little difficulty.

Similarly, the Teacher himself said in The Vinaya Scriptures:

There are two things that monastics should do: study through listening and contemplating, and abandon through meditation.

Gampopa said:

Beginners should study earnestly. After studying the teachings, practice earnestly.

As these explain, one should first listen to and contemplate the Dharma appropriately through scriptures and then make the practice of the meaning one has studied into the essence. This is the general way to uphold the teachings. The Buddha, out of kindness, said not once but over and over that his followers should emphasise practice, and uphold, preserve, and propagate the teachings of realisation properly. Doing this is extremely important.

We can understand this when we read the biographies of Milarepa and Marpa the Translator and see what they did. They didn’t sit around like us, fat, happy, and enjoying themselves. They did such great practice that they meditated until their flesh was worn down to the bone. It is from this emphasis on practice that the name “Practice Lineage” was given, but it is not as if we do not have to do any study and contemplation. We should at the very least listen to and contemplate the lama’s instructions. Even if we cannot read the great philosophical texts, there is no way we can know how to meditate unless we study and contemplate the lama’s instructions thoroughly.

In order to meditate, it is very important to first identify what we are meditating on. If we meditate without identifying that, there is the danger it will become idiot meditation or idiot Dharma. If we do not first fully comprehend through listening and contemplating the meaning of what we are meditating on, how can we practice? Without something to practice or something to meditate on, we might say, “I’m practicing” or “I’m meditating,” but there would be the danger we end up betwixt and between, not anywhere at all. We would be neither in the world nor in the Dharma. We might try to look impressive, but because we are neither in the Dharma nor in the world, there is the danger that it could be said of us that we are caught betwixt and between.

Even if the forefathers of the practice lineage did not study philosophical texts in great detail, they did give their students naked or direct instructions on the experience they realised — the instructions of an old man pointing his finger, or symbolic pointing-out instructions. There is something special that happens when someone who has experience shows a physical expression or makes a slight gesture with their hands. After pointing out experience symbolically, there is a particular way to guide students down the path, which followers of the practice lineage must know. This is also what we call the meaning lineage of realisation. Most of the lamas in the ranks of the Kagyu root and lineage lamas first attained a high level of scholarship before doing meditation practice, although there are some about whom I wonder whether they themselves did such study and contemplation of philosophy.

However, even if one does not have the breadth of study and contemplation, the experience of realisation of the masters of the past can be pointed out nakedly or directly to students, so there is something special that happens. I think that if members of the practice lineage can recognise what the root and lineage masters have passed down and pointed out successively and what their root lama points out through the view of experience when actually instructing them, and then can make that the essence of their practice, they will uphold and preserve the teachings of the practice lineage over time, and they will also be able to help others develop and ripen.

Why is this? With Milarepa, for instance, first his lama Marpa pointed out the experience to him through signs, and he recognised it as it was given to him. Then he practiced whole-heartedly. When we read in his life story how he devoted himself one-pointedly to practice, it makes all of us cry tears of faith and devotion, whether we are members of the Sakya, Geluk, Kagyu, or Nyingma Dharma lineages, without any distinction. In his actions, his words corresponded to the meaning, so it makes us cry and none of us can help but feel faith and devotion. If the words and meaning did not correspond, it would be difficult for it to make us feel faith and devotion. All Sakyas, Gelukpas, Kagyus, and Nyingmas respect Milarepa without any partisan bias, yet there is no history at all of him studying extensively and writing many philosophical texts. However, Lama Milarepa himself said something like, “I have no material offerings to give, but I make this offering of practice to my father and mother lamas for the rest of my life.”

Milarepa recognised the experiential pointing-out instruction that Marpa gave him. After recognising it, he made practice the main thing. That is how he became such a great being, able to benefit sentient beings by being seen, heard, remembered, or touched. When all of us merely hear his name, we feel a special kind of amazement. As a Nyingma lama once said, sometimes when our minds are disturbed and the afflictions are strong, other great texts do not help us, but reading The Way of the Bodhisattva and The Life of Milarepa helps a little bit. That’s how it is, isn’t it?

In any case, the person known as the author of The Life of Milarepa, the Bone Ornament Yogi or Crazy Heruka from Tsang, was a skilled writer. His writing is of extremely high quality. It strikes the heart and has feeling. Beginners can also get their minds around it. He is wonderful at touching us. Thus just by hearing The Life of Milarepa, Milarepa has become a great being who benefits the beings who merely see, hear, think of, or touch him.

In order to develop the view and meditation of the practice lineage or unmistaken meditation, we need to practice an unmistaken view. For that view, there is developing full comprehension of the view of the object, emptiness, as well as the preliminaries and the follow-through practices. The preliminary and follow-through practices are all similar, but the main practice has some distinct aspects. These are a different essence, different focus, different practice techniques, and the different power of the techniques, it is said. There are also two other distinct features of the main practice: different conditions for gaining realisation and different ways of taking the path. According to the Dakpo Kagyu, the different way to develop realisation is that because of the blessings of a lama who has directly realised the truth and the devotion of the student coming together, the student will directly realise the truth of the path of seeing. The different way to take the path is to take direct perception as the path rather than inference.

With the object, emptiness, those who primarily study the emptiness of the mahayana sutras realise it through logical proofs of the dharma nature, such as the king of reasonings, the proof of interdependence, and so forth. For the path and post-meditation as well, they follow the path primarily by way of inferential analysis, it is said. However, these are all only ways to guide disciples with differing natures and inclinations down the path, the great teachers said; there is no contradiction between them.

So we say that we are in the practice lineage, but really we are a bit of a disgrace to the practice lineage, aren’t we? I wonder whether we are going to have anything from our practice to pass on in the lineage.

It is not okay not to have read the lives of the Kagyu forefathers. When we read them, we should be amazed. We need to look at ourselves. When we read the biographies of the forefathers of the practice lineage, we feel, “Oh no!” We call ourselves followers of the great masters of the practice lineage, but when we look at ourselves, forget about being a follower — I think we are just barely not disgracing them. There’s a danger we’ll have to rewrite the verse:

The venerable guru practices like that; We who want freedom disgrace like that.

So when we read the lives of the gurus, we wonder whether our own behaviour is compatible with the lives and deeds of the lamas. There is no point to being followers of the practice lineage in name only.

Actually, it was for practice that Lama Marpa and others underwent such difficulties and made such great efforts to go to India and receive empowerments and instructions in their entirety from genuine great Indian masters. They brought those back to the dark land of Tibet, translated them, and directly taught them to their students who practiced view, meditation, and conduct, handing them down just as a father gives his wealth to his child. They have given students or followers of our contemporary degenerate times hope and an opportunity to free themselves from the suffering of birth, aging, sickness, and death. Thus from one perspective we need to feel gratitude, and that is extremely important.

If we take Gelukpas as an example, individual monks have pictures of Tsongkhapa and his two main disciples in their rooms, which shows that they remember the kindness of their body, speech, and mind. It seems as if we Kagyupas are basically slowly forgetting about Marpa, Mila, and Gampopa, as I see it. In particular, we seem to think that the words of Milarepa that we recite these days come from the hand of a buddha who awakened to buddhahood in the past and then descended from Akanishta. We don’t think he was someone human like us. The lamas show the form of an ordinary sentient being, undergo difficulties, and make strong efforts to visibly demonstrate liberation for the benefit of the students, and we are throwing this away as if it were meaningless and unhelpful. This is a mistake. At the very least, if we don’t have the chance to practice, we need to be grateful, right?

To talk about it from a broader perspective, it is primarily the outer natural world — the plants, forests, and all the other things made up of the four elements — that supports our lives, makes it possible for us to breathe, gives us good health, and so forth. Any way you look at it, it is very beneficial to us. Thus we need to be grateful to it. Yet without the slightest bit of affection we destroy any plant that sends up a shoot or any slight bump in the ground, laying them waste.

Similarly, if we think about the inhabitants of this world, our food, clothing, beds, possessions, houses — in brief, anything at all that we might need is produced through the effort and difficulties of many sentient beings. It’s not as if our houses, nice clothes, and food are somehow just there from the time we are born. It is clear that all of these occur through one sentient being depending upon another.

From the smallest things on up, even the cup of tea we drank for breakfast depended upon many sentient beings in order to be made. Some of the butter in it may have arisen in dependence upon animals, and some in dependence upon plants. But just having a plant is not enough: there need to be many people to perform the actions of extracting the oil from the plant and pressing it. There are many people who are involved in selling it and bringing it to market. That is how it is: it has to pass through many people’s hands to get here. This is why whenever we drink a cup of tea, we first make a tea offering. It is good to be grateful like that, isn’t it?

If instead we just quickly gulp down a cup of tea without any thought or consideration, I wonder whether we are genuine mahayana practitioners. If we say we practice the mahayana, at the beginning of our meditation on bodhichitta, we remember that all beings have been our mothers. We are grateful. The gratitude of wanting to repay kindness is like the root of our mahayana attitudes and training, right? We should not just be grateful to humans. In brief, the physical environment and all the forests, plants, and everything else that comprise it, are all helpful to us. They sustain us. We should be grateful to them.

So this year the main theme of the Kagyu Monlam is gratitude. Last year the main thing was environmental protection. This year the main theme is gratitude. Thus it is extremely important for us to be grateful.

When we encounter the biographies of the forefathers of the practice lineage here now, we need to remember and keep firmly in mind how they underwent difficulties and gave up wrongdoing for the benefit of their future disciples. We can supplicate them again and again, but actually, we must wholeheartedly practice meditation on the points of their instructions. These two are very close. If we first develop a grateful attitude, then fifty percent has turned out well.

Therefore if we keep a grateful attitude in mind, I think that we will be able to uphold, preserve, and spread the teachings of the practice lineage. Otherwise, we will turn the Dharma into an empty façade. We’ll keep the Dharma from doing what it should and prevent the instructions from working, making the Dharma into even more of a façade. On the outside, it will appear as if we should be called Dharma practitioners, but if that appearance fools and deceives the faithful public, then just as Mao Tse Tung said, the Dharma will be poison. If the Dharma does not work as Dharma, there is a danger of fulfilling the prediction that Dharma will be the cause that throws us back into the lower realms.

Therefore we at least need to make sure that the Dharma doesn’t turn into poison. What we call Dharma is what we have to practice in order to free ourselves from the sufferings of the three realms of samsara. That is the sort of reason we do it. If we put aside liberation from samsara, we’ll be digging ourselves in deeper and deeper. If we mix Dharma with the eight worldly concerns, cling to discipline as paramount, and think too highly of our own view, there is the danger that we will dig ourselves ever more deeply and profoundly into samsara. That’s turning the Dharma inside out and upside down; it is not at all action that is compatible with the Dharma. Therefore, we need to take this to heart.

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typologycentral · 7 years ago

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[Fi] Bloody Fi purge! Your inferior cousin needs some dominant and auxiliary guidance.

To preface: I love you XNFPs and unbeknownst to me, always have. For one, it's been edifying and validating to see some of my all-time favorite humans (writers, musicians, actors, thinkers, etc...) being typed as XNFP. Even before learning about typology and gaining a deeper understanding of Jungian cognitive functions, I was actively working on (what I now know to be) Fi development because a lack of it had reaped much unnecessary hardship onto my life. Therefore, I think that conscientious journey led me to people that embodied their Fi with vigor and authenticity and helped me get in touch with my own, for which I am eternally grateful. And now on to the issue at hand (this is a long read but I'm trying to give relatively detailed information that might help you to help me): For a little under a decade, since high school, I've had an on and off, pseudo-platonic, quasi-romantic, eternal soulmate, occasional f-buddy relationship with this ebullient, effervescent, deeply insightful, dreamy eyed, pixie warrior priestess (INFP) that, in my relatively short life, has always stood a mile apart from the "Gone Girl/Cersei Lannister/Elle Driver/Cookie Lyon/Harley Quinn/Akasha, Queen of the Damned" fare I've usually attracted [strike]...and been equally attracted to[/strike]. Our first interaction was a classroom debate turned bloodstained duel to the death over the ethics of eating animals (I swear on the atom, this is not a utilization of an NFP stereotype lol). Something clicked (energy + angst + lust + social isolation + troubled pasts), and from there, this happened > I'd never before intimately known someone who had the chasm of incongruously layered emotionality she possessed--ostensibly she experienced feelings in a plethora of shades from eggshell, hunter green, and cobalt blue to neon yellow and not only that, could verbalize them as such. Meanwhile, I only had ready access to basic black, white, red (all degrees of rage), grey, and at my best, a metallic gold. Though wholly confounding, maddening and taxing to me, I had never felt more woke and unchained and set free. It was intoxicating to experience a wider array, a more diverse palette of feelings. I obviously never reached her depths, patterns and colors, but even experiencing a trifle more than I was previously accustomed to felt like a massive, tectonic plate moving, internal shift. She saw me shed an actual, solitary tear once under extreme duress but in better times, just by staring into my eyes and smiling on a whim she could easily make me mist up with soul purifying relief, which was a gargantuan, almost incomprehensible feat for lesser mortals and I truly honestly never before felt so connected to someone on a level that was nigh impossible to articulate in a rational way. And particularly when she was sad and grieving (probably because of me), which often left me feeling inadequate because I was too emotionally dumb and powerless to effectively help--which, in and of itself, beset me with very real, very potent, personal "trigger" landmines. Especially back then, I neither spoke of nor experienced emotions with great affect. I understood them cognitively and intellectually, but to actually engage them with my "heart" felt like a blind man wading neck-deep in cement. My take on our biggest, most immediate problem aside from all the other reasons this union was likely to fail? We just spoke completely different cognitive "languages (Ni vs Si? Dom Fi vs Inferior Fi? Dom Te vs. Inferior Te?)" that always created endless communication gaffs, roadblocks and nuclear disasters. For example: Pixie: "Did I see you at Starbucks earlier today with Cersei f%#king Lannister when you were supposed to be at a study group?" Me: "That was the study group." Pixie: *heart imploding with the force of a billion suns* "Why didn't you tell me that?" Me: *blistering dispassion with a hint of exasperated bemusement* "Look, our past relationship is just that, in the past. You have nothing to feel insecure about. It was harmless, only work. You know I love you." Pixie: "That's not what I asked you! Stop lying and trying to hide and sugarcoat things! You know I hate that brother f%#king bitch! Why didn't you tell me you were going to see her? Me: *voice box shredding like the Hulk's Capri pants* "Because that was fucking irrelevant. She was put in a group with me! Her strategy to double-cross Dany and Jon will fall to shit, for Christ sakes. Are you happy now? You always focus on the wrong thing!" She always wanted to know the exact details behind what actually happened in a very direct, matter of fact way (perhaps to refine the many possibilities she generated for why I would withhold supposedly important information from her), whereas I always instinctively and immediately went to why I did something or the "why" concerning the underlying problem, because the "why," the deeper meaning (should and theoretically, in my mind) supersedes anything else, and especially when problem solving and coming up with a viable solution imo. Ultimately, it just didn't work. Idiotically yet idealistically, we wouldn't let that stop us. We broke up and got back together a few times before deciding that we were better off as this nebulous, ill defined glob of corrupted love and unresolved daddy/mommy abandonment issues that maybe one day might actually not fall apart at the seams just as it's getting good again. The whole idea and its subsequent execution was dysfunctional, unhealthy, ridiculous and plain ol stupid, but I gather this was us trying to be intense, brooding and deep. Dunno exactly. We'd go on to see other people and sometimes, in between relationships, link up again. Usually we couldn't reach a year and a half before we wound up back in the other's arms/bed. Moving on. She experienced a tragedy (by her standards) about 3 years ago while I was literally on the opposite side of the planet and whereas I would've normally come flying to her aid with an S on my chest, I made the conscious choice not to. Already enduring my ascent to power (lol) being stifled because of my brokedown Fi usage as it pertains to my burgeoning career, I resented yet another unwieldy force (Pixie) possessing that type of influence over me as well; I defiantly chose self-interest above anyone or anything else (like I'm instinctively wont to do, right or wrong, good or bad). She kept trying to reach me to the point of flooding all of our communication channels with emotional spam (from childish antics to vile, unforgivable diatribes). After a while, I felt bad, decided to reach out to her but was ignored for 2.5 years straight. That had never happened before--it broke our unspoken rule, which devastated me more than I realized. I grieved (rather poorly by over-utilizing Se), but eventually tucked it away, moved on and focused on work. I figured we were never meant to be anyway but that I would still love her (from afar) and wish her the best regardless. Lo and behold, she called me last night out of nowhere, drunkenly seeping concentrated pain, spewing regret, betrayal, rejection, abandonment, hatred and then love for me. She says, through tears, that she's still in love with me and wants to know if there's any chance for an "us." I felt terrible and thoroughly confused. I tried to listen and be supportive (my Te is completely inept at properly addressing/handling others' intense feelings)--I just don't naturally "speak" emotions in an unforced, compassionate, empathetic, organic manner. I'm better than I used to be but I was blindsided, taken aback and don't think I did much good. Honestly, I don't need or want this in my life right now; I'm so engrossed in my work and achieving my goals and going by what she was saying over the phone, she's still stuck in past patterns of dysfunction. I don't want that anymore. But I truly do care for her and want her to be well and happy--just not with me and not right now, at least. I hate that she is suffering but I don't know what, if anything, I should/could do to remedy this. And now, finally, here are my questions to you smart, capable, helpful people*/**: 1. When you are expressing your feelings (whether "good" or "bad"), what is the best way to respond to this that will make you feel heard, understood and validated? 2. When overcome with negative feelings that seem too powerful and unrelenting, how do you self-soothe (using safe + legal methods)? 3. Is there anyway I can speak my truth and tell her honestly where I'm at and what I want at this point in my life without further hurting her? Should I do it regardless or is it better to wait for when she's more stable? 4. Tangent, now that I have you > How do you know what you value? (Is that a stupid question? lol) I think I know what I value ("money-power-respect," knowledge, meaning/substance, fairness, justice, individuality) but it can be hard to finesse on the spot (when asked) and not come off as crude and unrefined. Do you spend a lot of time going over in your mind what is meaningful and significant to you, or do you just know somehow? (like how I seemingly "know" and intuit stuff via introverted intuition) To those who made it all the way to the end, thank you. I would really really really really appreciate some help. I have very few people in my life I trust to give me strong emotions related advice and none of them are XNFPs. Their emotions are just as trash and poorly developed as mine are. lol *Obviously, there are a multitude of ways that people respond to these things that exclude type but I'm looking for any and all variations, particularly from XNFPs and anyone else who can provide insight. **And I will shamelessly bump this thread until I obtain the breadth of insight I seek. :shrug: https://www.typologycentral.com/forums/showthread.php?t=93755&goto=newpost&utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

#The NF Idyllic (ENFP #INFP #ENFJ #INFJ)

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mutantsrisingrpg · 5 years ago

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Congratulations, ABBY! You’ve been accepted as IAPETUS.

Choosing between two extremely well-written apps is never easy and I apologize for the wait. But, Abby, this app blew me away! Describing Jack as someone who “existed in sharp fragments littered against the pavement, indistinguishable from shattered glass” is quite possibily the perfect way to describe him; he’s there and you know he’s watching, but you can’t figure out where because he hides so well. Jack Mizuno is a ghost, as you mentioned in your app, but he is a ghost that I want to know more and more about.

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Abby PRONOUNS: she/her AGE: 22 TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: PST, 6-7/10 – I’m a full time grad student take a pretty heavy course and research load, so generally I’m busy during the day but my schedule is kind of flexible? Generally speaking I’ll be online every day but either in the early mornings or evenings.

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Jack Mizuno / Iapetus

GENDER/PRONOUNS: cis male & he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Jack Mizuno did not exist. He was a ghost, a dead end paper trail carefully crafted to lead whoever wanted to look in pretty little circles. Knowing all the back and trapdoors of the internet better than the alley behind your poor excuse for an apartment tended to make that an easy feat. Jack Mizuno existed in sharp fragments littered against the pavement, indistinguishable from shattered glass; you needed to know just where to look to find him. This is by design. Jack has secrets, knows secrets, has seen and buried the terrible things mutants will do in the name of survival.

He is not a charity. Before Alma held him up by his hair and gave him a choice that wasn’t a choice at all, Jack had to make his own purpose. That was expensive. Pro Bono lawyers don’t drive the sports cars or wear expensive watches. In mutant terms – the ones who can dig and bury and burn as well as Jack can and do it for free end up dead. So, no, Jack is not a charity, but it doesn’t mean he has no heart. He has quite a lot of it, actually; he needs it not to drown in all the destitution he bears witness to. It surprises a lot of people the true extent of cruelty human beings are capable of. It doesn’t surprise Jack, anymore, but that doesn’t make him immune to their equal or greater capacity for kindness. Alma showed him kindness; he’s still trying to understand how to pay it back with interest.

Self-preservation is paramount. Jack has been a bottom feeder for as long as he can remember – taking the ugly, awful work law enforcement doesn’t care for and PIs find distasteful. It bred in him a fine-tuned intuition, sharp as a knife’s edge. He knows when to take the money, when to ask no questions, and when to disappear. Disappearing is an art like any other, and Jack is exceptionally good at it. A fool’s errand is inviting Jack into your life and thinking you can keep a secret from him after. He’s not curious, he’s careful. Thorough. Leaves nothing and then less to chance.

The knife’s edge is double sided – Jack has a flighty, nervous nature to him that he stamps down with caffeine and cigarettes. It doesn’t go away, and dampens at the expense of his better judgment, but doing so sweeps down the hair at the back of his neck and stills his fingers when there’s work to be done. Jack is a shark; stop swimming for too long and he’ll sink straight to the ground.

BIO: There is no minimum or maximum requirement here. But, we do ask that you provide enough that gives us a good grasp of your writing style.

Everyone expects it to still be snowing in March. Chicago, they say, with an endeared little smile and the flat ah to tell you without telling you they’re a native, winter from October to April. In 1989, March rained. Buckets of it for more days that most folks bothered counting. March was a gust at the end of winter just warm enough to make it miserable. Jack was born smack in the middle, when the city was drowning.

The rest comes in fragments; a story quilted together by Jack’s own fragile memories and what he’s managed to take from others. The power flickered in and out in the hours leading up to his birth – concerning, perhaps, but neither catastrophic nor unexpected for the Gage Park General Hospital.

Jack’s mother was a nervous woman. He wondered, later, if that anxious constitution was something inherited from the womb; if his mother’s uneasy heart set in his a parallel double-step from conception. Perhaps it was imparted later, swallowed up by Jack in the spaces between the lined up bills on the kitchen counter, angry shaking of locks that stuck in the cold – which was a frequent visitor, in their house – and trembling hands over thread-bare collars.

Jack’s father was a ghost, but the kind that lingered heavy, an almost-hand that threatened above his shoulder and the doorway. More than once Jack wondered what he inherited from his father, what strange neuroticisms – or, indeed, mutations – he left in place of a hand print. It’s the only secret Jack has refused to recover.

School passes unremarkably. Jack is neither the bully nor the victim; insignificant enough to slip under the radar and glaze by. Not a top student. Not struggling. Lost in the waves that ebb through the blown-out halls, into the rusted chairs, out onto the buses that only run on hope and cold air. It’s all very – fine. It’s fine. His mother comes home with a hand in his hair and a question about his day she doesn’t wait to hear the answer to. His school work is swept aside to make room on the table to count what they’ve lost and earned for the day. When he’s old enough, Jack will drop his books to do the same.

They don’t quite get that far.

See, Jack doesn’t have a flash-bang mutation. There’s no schoolyard scuffle that goes from rowdy to lethal like the flip of a coin and gets the whole neighborhood straight on the news. His is a slow crescendo, and goes like this: His mother is spending laters nights at work, which means a locked door at home and the silent command to find something to do with his time. He’s about fourteen – not old enough to work somewhere safe but too old to be knocking on neighbors doors alone and hungry.

He settles for the library next to school. It’s warm, well-lit, and they have a computer. Jack only gets to go on those an hour a day at school. He noodles around when he’s bored of his homework, stumbles on things he shouldn’t but doesn’t know any better to avoid – or, rather, doesn’t know aren’t normal. He’s smart and stupid enough to keep this to himself, age up into high school with this secret tucked under his tongue; wait until the conversation has already turned to mutants before he dares to bring it up on his own. He doesn’t tell his mother, just yet, wants to know for sure that what he can do is something he can also control. Jack isn’t afforded that chance, either.

Eviction notices were a big red staple of Jack’s childhood – taped to the door or slipped quietly underneath it. It’s only when he’s seventeen and a hair’s breadth from graduating that their landlord finally follows through. Jack comes home to the door wrenched open and their meager belongings scattered or gone. He finds his mother in a house down the street – an aunt’s maybe, or a distant cousin’s – with her face in her hands and shoulders shaking. It goes like that for some time, drifting just the two of them, until Jack comes back to their newest makeshift home and finds her gone.

What comes next is – dark. Jack comes to in an apartment reminiscent of his childhood, wearing clothes he doesn’t really recognize but smell like him. There might be someone in his bed. He might be squatting. He shut off for a while, he isn’t sure. The laptop left open on the floor is definitely his – it has his fingerprints all over it. Digital, mostly, but there’s the odd smudge that gives way to physical ownership. This is what he has now, neck deep in the chasm of loneliness: a keyboard and a client list a mile long.

It goes like this for some while. Jack stays in his probably-not-legally-rented apartment, waiting for the people who know how to find him, well – find him. Most of them pay well. He takes what feels safe and keeps himself warm, but freelancing for strangers with an envelope of cash is a near-vertical learning curve. Jack has an edge, but he’s also stupid in the early days. He still searches for his mother, when he can. He moves apartments twice and nearly gets taken into two more times beyond that.

The months of smooth sailing and steady income that flow in afterwards makes him arrogant, and reckless. It’s something between a favor and a job that gets him caught – a favor, because, damn him, he cares about the client more than he should, but still technically a job when there’s a paycheck at the end of it. Sentiment makes him desperate, experience makes him careless, and the resource he’d heard Blackburn might have had access to was never even there in the first place.

The first time he met Alma, the only thing Jack smelled was blood – his, probably. His mouth certainly felt full of it. He never had much use for religion in his short, cold life, even if his mother was devout for all of hers. Staring at Alma, one hand in his hair and offering him a choice that wasn’t really a choice at all, he might have almost understood. With a strong hand and an outstretched arm, he remembers the verses and psalms, as he stares at her. They might even feel true.

Jack is not a watchdog, but he’s something close, maybe. Alma offered him a purpose he already had in front of him but didn’t know how to take. There is no doubt Jack’s loyalty to the Blackburn Syndicate runs deep and unwavering. He believes in the cause, acts for the cause, maybe even lives for it. But he is still a solitary creature, and the rising tensions pull tight at his skin.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS: Please expand on at least one of the connections set out in the bio. There can be as little or as much as you want to be written here. We would love to see how you interpreted the connections we set out!

LENOX. Jack has spent time adrift – living through a haze that blurred the lines in his mind. He has no desire to return to that state, ever. He grounds himself in reality, more so than ever. His life depends on truth and the relentless pursuit of it. Lenox is a direct threat to his own stability, and worse, they seem to find pleasure from seeing him squirm under their little games. He hates it, he hates them, and he hates more how he doesn’t really hate it at all. Jack has built his life into a routine, and the illusions annoy him. They set his teeth on edge and give him the shakes for days after, but there’s a reason he hasn’t asked Alma for one of her fists into Lenox’s pretty little face.

ILIE. Jack doesn’t make a habit of sitting on any of his secrets. He tried it, once. He almost bled out on the pavement. The second time he was nearly locked up in a testing facility. So, no, he doesn’t hold on to the transgressions of others any more than he needs to. Chances are there’s some way to spin it in his favor – or, the Syndicate’s, now. It’s – different with Ilie. Jack is meant to be playing nice with the King’s Collective, so says the hand on his leash, but he just can’t help this small amusement. It’s a vice that will get him killed, or worse, he knows. The second he slips Ilie will go running, but it’s so nice to be the one in control for a time. Even if it’s not really enough, only the illusion of it.

RAHIM. Jack isn’t sure quite what to make of Rahim, and that’s a dangerous thing. Jack likes to have the answers – is rather used to it – and doesn’t know what to do with himself when he is left wanting for them. Enter, Rahim. A man Jack is meant to be getting along with, tries to get along with, but can’t quite seem to figure out. They dance around each other, careful, and Jack is unwilling to take the first step forward or back. He’s a watcher, so he watches. He knows it unsettles Rahim, and maybe that makes it all the more worth it. It’s more fun to earn the answers, anyway.

EXTRA:

Headcanons

Jack Mizuno is an alias, easy enough to assume. He told Alma his real name privately after he agreed to his terms, but no one else knows it as far as he’s aware.

He’s left handed; insignificant, but it’s a pet-peeve of his when people point it out like it’s something secret or exciting. There are lots of secret or exciting things about him, this isn’t one of them.

Jack doesn’t define his sexuality in strict terms or labels. He’s more of a convenience person who recognizes he has needs, but doesn’t much care who satisfies them. If he had to choose he might prefer men, but it’s only by a slim margin.

ANYTHING ELSE:

Uhhh this was not proof read so apologies for inevitable typos!

#accepted #accepted: iapetus

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logh-icebergs · 8 years ago

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Episode 10: Jessica’s Battle

Summer 796/487. Yang and Julian travel to Thernusen, where Yang has been ordered to attend a ceremony at the military academy. Upon arrival Yang is unwittingly sucked into a political battle between pro-war and anti-war factions, and we learn that politics have gotten no more civil in the next 1600 years: Yang is attacked by peace party goons; peace party goons are attacked by the PKC; and finally Yang is saved from Jessica’s rather aggressive advances when the headquarters of the peace party is bombed, killing their candidate. This strategy backfires badly, as Jessica runs in his place and receives 80% (!!) of the vote. Meanwhile, Julian is repeatedly denied the chance to have any fun.

Yang, Asexuality, and Representation

One frankly astonishing thing about Legend of Galactic Heroes is the breadth and variety of queer characters, each with their own personal relationship to issues of love and sex and romance, each with their own personal struggles against societies that want to cram everyone into neat normative boxes, each with their own methods of navigating those expectations. Hell, it’s only episode 10, and already we’ve gotten to know one gay couple well and seen another gay couple in the background; we’ve gotten glimpses of Magdalena and Hilda, whose respective ways of navigating imperial society as queer women we’ll discuss at length as we see more of them; we’ve met Dusty, who flies slightly under the radar by embracing a “confirmed bachelor” identity; and pretty soon we’ll meet a gay character who attempts to pass by loudly proclaiming his (dubious) heterosexual conquests at every opportunity. In the future we’ll get to know a handful of bi characters, some quite promiscuous, others very shy about sex and romance. We’ll see multiple different characters grapple with their parents’ reactions to their queer identities. This is not representation as in box-checking and calling it a day. This is representation as in an actual reflection of the myriad ways that real people relate to these issues individually.

And there’s Yang, who is asexual. I’ve been dancing around this for several episodes, ever since one of the first details the show chose to tell us about him in “My Conquest” was his apathy toward the piles of love letters he receives:

Hints of this have been there all along (remember his overly flustered reaction to feeling like Cazellnu was attempting to matchmake for him?), but finally in this episode, through his interactions with Jessica and backstory about his time at the academy, we get enough detail and body language to start to put the puzzle together. Alliance culture of the late 700’s being remarkably similar to much of Earth culture of the late 1900’s, Yang lacks a good framework for understanding this aspect of himself, and throughout the show we’ll see him struggle with an inability to explain the anxiety he clearly feels when confronted with romantic situations. Although he’s not aromantic, the potential sexual expectations that go along with romance lead him to shy away from it, as he did with Jessica, and is already starting to do with Frederica.

What Yang says here is "tondemonai," which I'd translate as something like "not at all!"

Wading through online lists of supposedly ace characters in media, one finds a pretty frustrating mix of characters who are either actually gay (with asexuality used as a cloak by the creators and/or audience to sweep that gayness under the rug), or rendered “asexual” through some accident or medical condition, or are some kind of biologically asexual being, with just a handful of actual examples scattered throughout. But Yang is not a robot or a legendary Pokémon, or a background character who just never gets paired off romantically. He’s a protagonist, a warm and empathetic and brilliant person with many complicated relationships in his life spanning friendship and romance. The nuance and realism with which his love life is depicted throughout the show is both impressive and Really Fucking Important.

Aww Yang.

Yang and Jessica

I love the motif of reflections in this show. This shot captures the distance between them in a way no words I could type here can.

There are so many facets to the sadness and tension that pervade every scene between Yang and Jessica: their different approaches to working to end the war; the pain of Lapp’s recent death and Yang’s guilt surrounding it; and, as we learn in this episode, lingering regret on Jessica’s part that Yang never pursued a romantic relationship with her. Because of the complexity of their dynamic and the fact that Yang himself is confused about how to act around her, untangling their interactions is a difficult task. There’s a lot that’s deliberately left ambiguous; and while I love that LoGH doesn’t feel the need to make relationships simpler than they are in real life, it doesn’t exactly make our job as viewers easy.

What was Yang about to say? An explanation of why he feels it’s best for him to play nice with his superiors even though they’re using him for propaganda? An invitation to socialize that he decides could be taken the wrong way, or would be turned down because of the political gulf between them? Just tell us dammit, to hell with realistic storytelling!

Our goal, then, like that parable about the blind men and the elephant, is to find the reality that best explains the sum total of the details that we see, even when each detail on its own may feel ambiguous. And the main thread that runs through all of Yang’s behavior, both in the flashback to his first year at the academy and in the present, is his complete lack of initiative when it comes to anything romantic.

Case in point number one: Although we’re told twice—through Julian, importantly—that part of Yang’s agenda in going to Thernusen is to see Jessica, he never once actually makes an active effort to do so, instead filling his free time by flopping on the hotel bed griping about politics and taking Julian out to fancy restaurants.

Is Julian a reliable narrator here? Unclear—if you’ve ever had the sort of hero-worship proto-crush that Julian has at this point, you might recognize an over-eager interest in that person’s love life as one of the symptoms. Yang’s “oy mind your own business” reactions tell us that the situation is complicated, but not much more than that.

When we last saw Yang and Jessica together, they were saying an extremely awkward and fraught goodbye at the airport; in particular, Jessica seemed to be waiting for Yang to say something further, before finally giving up and walking away. At the time I suggested that Yang’s sadness in that scene could stem partly from not feeling comfortable fulfilling the role that her wistful gazes seem to ask of him, and his reluctance to reach out to her while he’s in Thernusen fits with that. Julian, being astute and keenly interested in the subject, has also picked up on vibes beyond “old college friend” between Yang and Jessica, and his natural assumption is that this ought to mean Yang will seek her out. But on the contrary, Yang’s reaction is to withdraw.

Turns out he didn’t need to seek her out: Like it or not they’re thrown together twice by the political melodrama that’s going down in this city. After the second incident, in which Yang rescues one of Jessica’s friends from PKC thugs, he finds himself walking with her past the military academy campus, and at her suggestion they sneak in.

Pictured: Yang Wenli in his natural habitat, on a romantic walk at night alone with a girl.

This incredibly closed off body language contrasts not only with how Yang acts in situations where he feels comfortable, but also notably with the body language between Reinhard and Kircheis in...well okay in every scene that includes both of them, but I’m thinking specifically of the episode 8 flashback, which also takes place in the romantic setting of sitting together on the grass at night.

Being at the academy leads to a nostalgic mood, which brings us to case in point number two of Yang’s passivity. Through an extended flashback we learn that he first saw Jessica when his friend Lapp literally dragged him away from scrolling through Instagr— I mean studying history, in order to ogle a hot girl he found through a window.

Quick aside on Lapp and how much he sucks: ...a lot. This is fucked up. If Lapp likes her, why drag Yang into it? In his mind he’s probably being generous, but it reeks of positioning Jessica as an object that must be competed for and won in order to have real value. Wtf Lapp. I talked above about the beauty of how this show captures the true panoply of human experience, but did straight white douchebag guys really need the extra representation??

Lapp procured two tickets to a party that Jessica will be at, and when he asks Yang if he wants one Yang responds with an almost offended “of course”—why wouldn’t he? At the party Lapp and Yang are both standing around being wallflowers until Lapp decides it’s time for one of them to make a move on their target, and flips a coin for the privilege. Yang wins the flip, and so finds himself asking Jessica to dance, swept along into that position entirely by Lapp’s own interest in her.

I’m emphasizing Yang’s lack of initiative here because it’s important to the overall picture; I’m not suggesting that 18-year-old Yang isn’t sincerely hoping that things go well with Jessica. My read on college!Yang is that if left to his own devices he would sit around studying history all day, but if anything he’s grateful to have a friend who’s better at this girl stuff than he is who can push him a bit.

When they start dancing, however, it’s immediately clear that Yang is way, way out of his comfort zone.

Yes, Yang “never learning to dance” can be taken as a metaphor for his asexuality. This symbolism is yet another "iceberg": the part above the surface is the actual events of the story, while the hidden depths are the metaphorical connections that we can draw from what's depicted to help us understand things the show can’t talk about more directly.

He’s failing so badly to perform the proper role of smoothly sweeping the girl off her feet that Lapp decides it’s necessary to save Yang from further embarrassment by cutting in for him; Yang seems (rightly!) a bit miffed at this, but quickly resigns himself to being a wallflower again.

Lapp: Did I mention he sucks? This is another asshole move cloaked in ostensibly good intentions. Lapp would have ceded this “prize” to his friend if he won her fair and square, but as soon as he sees Yang deviate from the proper protocols of seduction, he decides Yang is no longer worthy and claims her for himself.

Jessica seems susceptible to Lapp’s charms, and some undetermined time later Yang spots them giggling together under a tree and realizes, a bit wistfully, that things between them seem to be clicking.

As always there could be a lot behind this wistfulness: wondering what might have been with Jessica if he’d had more of a chance; or more general envy that Lapp knows how to do this stuff and he doesn’t.

Which brings us back to the present, and Yang again finding himself swept along into a situation out of his comfort zone, sitting under a tree with a rather emotional Jessica. When Jessica confesses that she had been hoping Yang would ask her to dance again, Yang evasively cites Lapp’s infatuation with her, an excuse she doesn’t seem to totally accept.

What Jessica actually says here is “otoko-doushi no yuujou tte wake?” which I’d translate as “sooo it was a bro code kinda thing?” Good to know that fantastic concept survives for another 1600 years...

And when, overcome with various emotions, Jessica finally breaks through the closed-off body language and throws herself at Yang, we come to case in point number three of Yang failing to assert himself. Although he’s done all he can to passively signal that he’s uncomfortable with the hints of romance between them, he can’t seem to bring himself to actively reject her—maybe just because he hates the thought of hurting her, maybe because part of him wishes he were more interested and feels conflicted, maybe because part of him is interested but doesn’t feel comfortable pursuing it. Whatever the case, as soon as the more passive thing to do is to reciprocate her advances, he goes along with it.

Fortunately for Yang, this incipient tryst is interrupted by the PKC bombing the headquarters of Jessica’s political party, killing their candidate. Despite their last real interaction being an aborted kiss, Yang slips immediately back into passive avoidance mode, making no further attempts to follow up with her before heading back to Heinessenpolis the next day. Jessica is caught up even further in politics, as she runs in place of the murdered candidate and wins; and Yang returns to his military life, glancing at her on the television as he heads off to a meeting with Frederica and wishing her luck. Despite Jessica’s lingering feelings and Yang’s wistfulness, the gulf between them has very clearly widened.

Julian

In the background of all of the drama of this episode we find Julian, teasing Yang about Jessica, listening to Yang’s rants about feeling used by the politicians, lying through his teeth to hotel security, and just generally being a completely adorable shadow-slash-caretaker to Yang.

Here Julian takes on the role of managing Yang’s emotional state: turning off the TV when thinking about politics is making Yang cranky, then visibly collecting his own emotions enough to smile and offer tea.

In possibly my favorite moment of the episode, Julian is one second away from getting to be the hero who saves Yang from the peace party thugs who are attacking him...only to have his thunder stolen by Jessica. Poor kid.

Yang...Yang...literally thirty seconds ago this abandoned street was full of violent PKC goons who bear a grudge against you and people you care about, and you just… Listen who the fuck put Yang in charge of another human being?

If you pay attention throughout the episode you’ll notice a dozen or so shots where Julian is perfectly mimicking Yang’s body language and expression. (I’ll restrain myself and only include four here.)

So much is conveyed by all of these tiny moments and details, without Julian ever being the actual focus of the episode. It’s beautiful storytelling.

Aww Julian.

Stray Tidbits

Worldbuilding alert! We get a bit more detail about how these awesome self-driving zipcars work when Yang hails one. I love how real this feels; how many years away are we from actually having these?

One thing that I find really interesting about the politics in LoGH is that we see characters disagreeing not just about the ultimate goals, but also about questions of the right methods to achieve them. Yang and Jessica both hate the war and feel an imperative to do what they can to minimize the damage done by it; the political tension between them comes from different philosophies about pursuing that end. The questions raised here are difficult and I like that the show never really tries to settle them.

Like episode 9, much of the plot of this episode is anime-only; in the novels Jessica’s victory in this election is mentioned only in passing.

Visibly Angry Yang is a rare specimen and I love him.

Clearly no one was ever supposed to have the technology to pause and move frame-by-frame through the sequence of Yang bouncing up into a sitting position on the hotel bed...this is probably the single most horrible LoGH screenshot I’ve ever taken.

#Legend of Galactic Heroes #Legend of the Galactic Heroes #author: Rebecca #Alliance #Yang #Jessica #Julian #asexuality #queerness #Legendary Pokémon #dammit Lapp #dammit Cazellnu #bro code

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lizzyboo22tattoo · 6 years ago

Text

A Sermon I Wrote Fall 2018

Rainy Days

When I was in high school I was part of the marching band. I played oboe during the concert season, however my real love was the colorguard and winterguard which if you don’t know are the dancers that throw the flags, swords and guns up in the air during a marching performance. Now, I’m sure I don’t have to say to anyone whose ever marched that marching season is both the best and worst times of the year, especially in Texas. During the summer, temperatures on the concrete practice fields can reach 115 degrees, but during the fall, it’s the humidity and constant fear of rainfall that will get you every time.

One Saturday we were having an 8 hour practice in just those conditions. In true Texas fashion the sky was bright and sunny in front of us, but a giant line of dark storm clouds sat ominously behind us. I clearly remember our lead marching director, sitting on the tower above all of us and calming chewing his nicotine infused gum, scanning all of us below while the 200 plus teens on the field kept looking back at the impending storm that was going to reach us at any moment. I also clearly remember him getting on his loud speaker and saying “Ms.[my name]…please keep your eyes forward. The storm is, I assure you, not that interesting.” I promptly put my eyes forward and tried to get the storm out of my mind, but during one of the water breaks a giant clash of lighting and thunder appeared in the storm clouds only a few miles away. Whispers began circulating quickly and I remember my best friend, saying almost nonchalantly “You know…really we’re all just a bunch of lightening rods making patterns on the ground.” We all stopped and looked at her, looked back at the clouds that were now shimmering with lightening, and at the other 200 plus teens literally wrapped up in metal. Our colorguard instructor then shrugged and said simply “It’s just rain…you have rubber on the tips of your flags, it’ll be fine.” He then laughed and walked away. We did not see the situation quite as funny.

As the practice went on the clouds got closer, we could smell the rain, hear the thunder, and began seeing the lightening right behind us, until finally…we heard it. The deafening sound of falling rain on concrete. I’ll never forget all of us turning at the exact same time and seeing a curtain of rain moving towards us, about to swallow us whole and the strange sensation of looking down and seeing the dry ground get soaked one inch at a time before I got absolutely soaked. All at once we rushed towards the front when our director again went on the loud speaker and said, in the same monotone voice “Stop. All of you, walk CALMLY, to your bags, put your instruments up CAREFULLY, and I want you to WALK to the school…we will continue practice inside. We are not heathens, we are musicians with some decorum. Act like it.”

I’m sure you could imagine why this story crossed my mind when reading Mark 4:35-41. No storm was calmed during that practice, but the fear was the same. We found ourselves in the middle of what we perceived as danger and like the disciples we felt panic and fear based in self-preservation.

Last week, I had a very similar experience to the one all those summers ago. I was sitting in my living room for 4 hours and I listened to Dr. Ford tell her story of her sexual assault. As I listened to her testimony, I began to hear a rain of voices all around me. I heard the voices of my clients, my friends, my family, myself. All of us telling our stories of when we were in her place. I felt the humidity, that overwhelming thick pressure of scrutiny that makes it hard to breath. It came from those watching us, questioning us, doubting us; just as she was being watched, questioned, and doubted. As she moved forward with such quiet resolve, with fear and determination to tell her story I couldn’t help but remember that split second between being dry and safe, then suddenly being soaked to the bone, wet and cold in the rain, confused and scared. Much like many survivors of assault remember that split second between never having been a victim and suddenly being very much aware that you’ll never be the same.

After hearing Dr.Ford speak, I then listened to Judge Kavanaugh for another 4 hours and again I heard the storm. But unlike the last group of voices that sounded like the pitter patter of rain, these voices were like thunder. This I thought was the danger that I remember feeling as I unthinkingly, with all the others, ran to the front of the field. The booming voices of the Republican senators, Kavanaugh and all the speakers defending him seemed to drown me out. Their defensiveness of a system that is meant to protect those in power overwhelmed my sensibilities; flashes of heated speech, meant to destroy credibility and create uncertainty felt like a personal attack to all those I knew who suffered a sexual assault. And again, I heard the rain, more desperate this time. I heard my clients begging for help during a particularly bad outburst fueled by their trauma, I heard my friends crying because no one believed them, I heard family members whispering about old wounds that needed to be kept quiet. And the storm felt like it would never end.

At this point, my social worker brain kicked in and the statistics came pouring through my mind. Every 98 seconds, an American is sexually assaulted. Every 8 minutes, that victim is a child. 1 in 6 women are sexually assaulted in their lifetime, 1 in 33 men are sexually assaulted in their lifetime, 54% of assaults occur between the ages of 18-34, 94% of women who are raped experience symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, during the two weeks following the rape, approximately 70% of rape or sexual assault victims experience moderate to severe distress, a larger percentage than for any other violent crime, 82% of all victims under 18 are female…as I sat, for 8 hours and listened to that testimony, the sky looked a bit darker, the wind felt colder, and I felt a bit lost in all that rain.

I understand why the disciples were so panicked. When the storm came, and they only had a boat for protection, what else could they do, but cry out in fear? When a storm comes our rational falls away, because clearly, we humans in our mortal state are unable to do anything about natural phenomenon. And likewise, when we are confronted by an evil that is so ingrained into the very fabric of our society, that government officials make allowances for a crime that deeply effects such a large breadth of the citizenry, well we as individuals feel that we have no more control over that then the lightening overhead. But then again, something strange can happen during storms…

Now, lets for a moment go back to that rain filled band practice. On the way back to the school that day, my flag bag in hand, I looked back and I can say now that I was in awe. Because as the storm was washing over us, I took a moment to look up at the sky. There, just in my vision, was a patch of bright blue sky, that beautiful Texas fall day was still overhead. It just wasn’t quite within our reach at the moment. But it would come back, as I would later realize when we left at the end of the day.

Our text says that when Jesus “…got up and gave orders to the wind, and he said to the lake, “Peace. be still.” The wind settled down and there was a great calm.” I can only imagine, that such a calm, would look like that patch of blue sky. That the peace Jesus felt, even within the rain, looked like a white clouds and felt like a cool breeze, the smell of wet ground and fresh water.

After the hearings were over and the commentators began, I turned off the television and let myself be in the rain for a bit. I have to say, I wasn’t feeling the peace that Jesus spoke of. I still felt dizzy and confused hearing both testimonies and feeling so deeply heartbroken for Dr.Ford, for both families, for every single person that this case was going to effect.

But then I realized some sun was there. During Dr.Fords speech she spoke in her language, one with a deep knowledge of psychology and a great understanding of people and trauma and their effects. She was teaching us, and taking some joy in it I think, even in the midst of her storm. Later in the days to come, I heard the stories of women who had suffered assault, but who had moved forward, who were safe and happy so many years later. I heard men coming forward and backing up women in their struggles without a need to take over the dialogue. Even with the voices of those stories I’ve heard over the years, even with the grandiose political performance I’d just observed on television; I heard a small voice whispering in the rain.

Peace, be still.

I often think that when Jesus rebuked or ordered the sea to calm down, he did not yell or scream. I imagine him tired and maybe even a bit groggy. Leaning lazily on the side of the tipping boat and saying like a loving parent to a screaming infant “calm down, it’s alright.” And when Jesus turned to his disciples and said “Do you still not have faith?” I often like to think that he was not annoyed with them, but rather disappointed. Because like Dr.Ford during her testimony, before this whole episode with the storm, Jesus is telling parables, stories to teach, and the disciples have heard them all.

Jesus has called them sowers of seed in good soil, lamps to brighten the world, he’s said their faith is like mustard seeds with all the potential to grow and flourish, and maybe more importantly, he’s called them his brothers and sisters; he’s called them his family. Imagine that, family to Christ himself, children of the Divine Creator, stardust in the shape of humans. Perhaps, and let me rework the words of my old band director a bit, “if we are the children of the Divine, maybe we should act with some decorum.” Maybe we should not let the lightening and thunder overwhelm us and instead calmly walk through the rain together.

Now, if I can, let me indulge in another personal story. When I was younger, and I mean around the age of 4 or 5, before I could read from the giant monitor at church, I thought that when the choir sang anything about the “reign of God”, that they meant literal rain. Like the kind that falls from the sky instead of the reign of a political figure. And, as I was in a church of Christ at such an age, God did a lot of “raining” in people’s lives. One song that I remember very clearly that stoked my imagination as a child was “Lord Reign in Me”. One of my stanzas from this song go like this:

Over every thought, over every word May my life reflect the beauty of my Lord 'Cause You mean more to me than any earthly thing So won't You reign in me again

Lord, rain in me, rain in Your power Over all my dreams, in my darkest hour 'Cause You are the Lord of all I am So won't You rain in me again

Jesus wasn’t concerned about the storm before his disciples woke him up on that boat. He was peacefully sleeping, recharging from a long day of teaching and getting ready for the next round on the other side of that sea. And as I was thinking on this passage I couldn’t help but think he could do so because of a something that’s expressed in those lines. The Divine, whether we know it or not, is in the rain with us. The Divine, whether we know it or not, is in us. Working in us to be specific, giving us the skills we need to help each other in the storm. The Divine covers us just as our sadness, our grief, and our fear do. Even if we can’t hear the whispering voice to find peace and be still, it’s still there trying to comfort us even when all seems lost. And I deeply believe that the comfort that is there, isn’t just from a voice on high, I believe there is also a call to us brothers and sisters in Christ to find each other in the storm.

“Do you still not have faith?” Is a question that I don’t think is answered by the standard “Have faith in Jesus Christ.” At least, not in times like these. Not in storms like the one’s we find ourselves in when we watch what’s occurring on the national stage. I think we must stop and consider that Jesus has faith in us and so we must have faith in each other. Jesus trusted the Divine yes, but he also trusted the man-made boat and the crew to get him across. As humans we need that support to move forward, we need each other to find those sunny patches in our storms and work together to get there. I still hear the rain of all the women who saw themselves in Dr.Ford’s testimony. But I also see the sunny days to come, if only we continue to have faith.

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