#i usually prime open with a couple pieces and then delve in

[3-aem]

Okay I'm going to draw aki from chainsaw man. I can do this.

[noididntdude]

How i got into the cissamione ship, an elaboration 😅:

- i used to be a fleurmione shipper but i felt like there's always something missing. even when i've read a lot of fanfics, for me there's just something lacking there

- there's also the famous bellamione ship but just nope, nope, it's not for me. i mean if u ship it that's cool, u're cool. i tried but i just... can't get into it

- during these times i had brief glances of the cissamione tags but was never curious enough. i found out that it's the ship between hermione and narcissa malfoy, draco's mom, and i thought 'huh?' coz the narcissa i knew was the one in the movie

- then this pandemic happened and i was so bored. i already read and re-read the fleurmione fanfics that i liked, i even tried the hermione x ginny and the pansmione but they're not enough and not my taste, so i decided to try and delve into the mysterious hermione x narcissa ship and wow! was it one of the best things that happened to me this year!

- i read the short fics first and boom! i was hooked. so i researched about narcissa malfoy nee black and i. fell. in. love. what an amazing character, the way she was described in the book- blonde, unlike her sisters; elegant and prissy, the picture of a royal pure-blood; protective and caring, as a mother; and oh so mysterious, in a most alluring way. like, you can do a lot with a character like her and the awesome writers of the cissamione fandom deliver. the long fics are beautiful pieces of art. they really sell the dynamics between the heroines and as i read the fanfics, i knew; this is what i was looking for.

Why i ship this lovely pairing:

- first, let's look at hermione granger- this wonderful, sublime, and intelligent young woman can show both some of the positives and negatives of youth. the pros of youth u can see in hermione: energy, vibrancy, curiousity, spontaneity, innocence, wittiness, endless possibilities as she have a lot of room to grow. now the cons: brashness, self-righteousness, ignorance(she still doesn't know much since she lack experience), tends to be emotional or moody, misplaced judgements, can be harsh with punishments, prone to depression

*now, narcissa malfoy nee black, this beautiful, enigmatic, and cunning woman can show some of the good and bad sides of being someone of her age. the good ones: maturity, being at her prime (she's a witch), levelheadedness, wisdom(from her family and her experiences), balance, politeness, awareness. the bad ones: can be quite controlling, compares her time with the now, rigidness, have a lot of things to look back to that she tends to forget to focus on the present and look forward to the future, likely to overthink, can be dependent to wine, regretfulness

- next, the house they belong to.

*hermione, the gryffindor is- chivalrous, noble, brave and determined but can be reckless, stubborn, and tactless

*while narcissa, the slytherin is- subtle, resourceful, reasonable and a good leader (she led her family out of the mess that Lucius put them in) but she can be pessismistic, secretive, vengeful and resentful

-there's also their aesthetics

*hermione granger's descriptions in the books and fanfics always makes me picture vivid colors. They can be bright or dark hues but they are definitely vivid. She's like this bursts of colors everywhere she goes, not just because of her physical appearance but mostly because of her personality.

*narcissa black's descriptions in the books and in the fanfics always leaves me with the impression of soft colors with underlying shades. narcissa's outward appearance is always said to be pleasing to the eyes but the usual expressions on her face are not good for the heart. her fairness is both an advantage and disadvantage for her. that's why she definitely trained herself to seem delicate when it is needed and look impenetrable when it is necessary. in the books during the war u can see her being soft colors as she preferred to be in the background, but when it comes to protecting her family u will notice her shades.

- lastly, the way they love.

when u're looking for a life partner, unconciously the one that you really examine is the way they care for others. it can be because u want to experience that special care for ur own or u want to learn how to care like that (like that person can or will inspire u to love like them) or u want both.

*hermione granger, being an only child, is a bit open with her love. her strong desire to prove herself used to get in the way but as the years go by she learned what she and others are comfortable with so she was able to spread her love more. people around her soon understand that hermione is open with her compassion. she is also fierce and expressive in showing them. she's also loyal and true despite the bits of betrayal. and she always put others before herself. hermione loves in a splendid way though it can be tough towards herself since she is the sacrificing type.

*narcissa black's character made an impact in the harry potter story due to her extreme love for her son which caused voldemort's defeat. from this, we can conclude that narcissa loves tightly. with the family she grew up in, that seems to be the best choice. their family obviously have their prejudice since it's their ancestors that suffered in the hands of muggles. their motto of remaining pure in their blood was definitely installed to the black children's minds. that's why narcissa held it in her heart that family first before eveything. she had to hold on to those who are already there for her and she had to choose wisely and carefully those who can enter into her personal bubble. She was taught that the outside world is not safe, they are people who will be against her and her family. she can't be too open with her affections or her enemies will use it to destroy her. so narcissa is very protective and can be overbearing. it can be tough for the people around her since she is quite selfish but it is still a precious way to love.

When u combine these elements together, u get a couple that has this endless chemistry, deep and strong connection, great story, and exquisite future.

their trope is that of needing to wanting and wanting to needing

from hermione's part it can go like this:

she will need narcissa since she will never have that closure from bellatrix and after the war the only capable and mentally stable witness of her torture would be narcissa, since draco have his issues too since he's young like hermione.

she will go from needing to meet with narcissa to wanting to be with narcissa, after getting to know the youngest black sister better.

from narcissa's part it will be like this:

narcissa, who for the duration of the first and second war only did what was necessary, can now do the things she wants to do after the war. one of those would be apologizing to the people who suffered inside their manor, specially hermione granger.

she will go from wanting to meet with hermione to needing to be with hermione, after getting to know gryffindor's golden girl better.

With regards to their canon partners this is what i can say,

hermione and ron have their differences but they don't really compliment each other that much. like, they can't and won't bring the best out of each other.

the same goes for narcissa and lucius. the latter obviously sabotage their family even though that's not his intention. these two slytherins have their similarities but it's as if they're just together for formality's sake.

hermione and ron, narcissa and lucius are like parallel lines when they're together. their similarities are only on the surface but they will never really touch each other.

while hermione and narcissa are like perpendicular lines. they touch, they intersect at the right angle. yes, they came from the opposite sides but when they finally meet they build something beneficial like a cartesian plane. this dynamic is what makes cissamione the best ship for me.

thanks for reading.

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part twenty-two

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

Threading dangerous waters

After Noir had taken his leave, Sarah took a few steady breaths and managed to put his untouched slice of cake away before collapsing on the couch.

Lightly tracing her knuckles, she laid on the only piece of furniture that hadn’t been left in shambles. The coffee table had been reduced to splinters, and the tv screen had a gaping hole where he’d sunk his knife to the hilt. Nails were stuck in the wall to her right, and she sighed at the thought of having to disable those explosives that hadn’t been triggered during their fight.

I’ll be back.

She sighed, pressing the back of her hand to her lips. God, what would she do.

 [Next day, at Vought Headquarters]

The following day, Noir left his living quarters quite early, a pair of dark brown eyes seared into his mind. He immediately delved into researching information on the latest experimental trials conducted by Vought. He searched and searched, with determined calculation. His eyes traced countless file names, patient numbers, and descriptions… until he found the one he’d been looking for.

He retreated back to his room and settled down, eyes pouring over the damning evidence.

Finally, he stood and left the room.

_ _ _

“All right, folks, how is everyone?”

The Deep started with a small “I’m o—,” but Homelander cut him off, and continued speaking. He didn’t really care, the question had been a pleasantry, an act he had no reason to entertain without an audience.

“—We all know about the break-in that occurred two nights ago while we were at the gala,” he nodded to himself as he slowly paced around the table. “And while our Noir gave it his all, this very dangerous woman played some tricks and is,” Homelander raised a hand in blatant disbelief, “still on the loose.”

Reaching the head of the table once again, he fixed his gaze on each of his team members.

“We also know of the unfortunate release of Compound V to the public, which has generated mixed emotions and alienated a part of our fans,” he paused, disgust pure on his face before he drew his conclusion. “It was her, this delinquent who stole from the archives and spilled to the news.”

The imposing man gripped the back of his chair, “I took this up with Stan Edgar, and he would have me—us, believe that he has it under control, that he’s handling it,” he exclaimed with a small burst of laughter.

Black Noir felt something creep up over his shoulder and settle in his chest: it was dread, a deep-seated sense of foreboding. And knowing what he’d learned that morning, what he’d promised himself, he again found himself conflicted. Focusing on Homelander’s speech, one sentence echoed inside his head: she is good, and he will protect her, she is good, and he will protect her.

“She must be found and swiftly dealt with as she poses a threat to Vought and all Americans,” Homelander announced. “She is obviously powerful if she was able to escape from Noir,” he paused. “I want everyone’s eyes open, and if you find her,” his face lost any sign of pleasantry, morphing with an unidentifiable emotion, “you will come to me first.”

Black Noir knew all too well what that unidentifiable emotions was: it was arrogance and a sense of superiority that underlined the man’s choices, again and again. It was his absolute need to be in the know and at the center of the attention at all times.

Everyone around the table stayed quiet. Maeve was picking at her nails, and Noir was doodling on a piece of paper. The Deep stared at the table’s surface, obviously afraid of the team leader’s mood swings. A-Train sat comfortably, more laid out than anything as he waited for the meeting to end. And Starlight, sitting delicately in her chair, counted down the seconds until she could clear out of the building.

Homelander slammed his palm against the table, “Is that clear.”

All eyes on him, he received a few nods and small acknowledgements.

Starlight tried to maintain her composure, but fear was clawing at her, demanding that she leave the room. She avoided looking at A-Train even though she could feel his gaze burning through her. If America’s favorite superhero found out she, member of the Seven, had leaked Compound V… she wasn’t sure that there’d be anything left of her once he was finished.

The leader of the Seven held his hands behind his back, making him an even more imposing figure.

“Vought is a great big company, our company,” he continued, “And Stan Edgar would have us believe that everything is under control… but he lies. It is not under control. I will find her, and I will end her before she can tear us down.”

His last statement held the finality and decisiveness of a promise.

“Remember, you come to me first,” he repeated, before going to stand by the large, paneled windows. A few seconds later, he glanced back at them.

“Still here?” he asked, suddenly irked by their presence. “Dismissed. Except you Noir, you can stay.”

Noir watched the other team members rapidly stand and leave the room, before letting his gaze fall back on the caped man standing by the windows.

“Noir, I’ll have you know that I trust you a great deal more than anyone else on this team,” he began, “and I trust you the most to gather intel on this Marianna Stacker.”

Sarah, his mind sighed.

“I want weekly updates until we catch her, I want to know who she is, where she lives, who she cares about—everything,” he carefully explained, “I will not have her and her lies destroy everything,” he gestured in general and Noir assumed he meant both the company and his popularity. The darkly suited man lightly rolled his eyes behind the mask but nodded.

He knew better than to anger Homelander. He wasn’t afraid of the maniac, no, he was a safety measure set in place to keep the man in check when the charismatic façade slipped off and revealed the monster beneath. Wasn’t there a saying? That to kill a monster you need a monster? And to do so, he’d rather know what the man was plotting than have to make a calculated guess.

Homelander nodded his head, “We’ll get her Noir.”

Noir stood, nodded, and left.

And Homelander watched him leave, always feeling a surge of respect for the silent superhero.

He turned back towards the windows and watched the busy city unfold beneath him, a murderous glint in his eyes. To hell with Stan Edgar, he was the true center of Vought. Fans called his name, he was their savior.

Finally, he too left the meeting room, deciding to take a stroll through the building..

_ _ _

That day, Sarah had returned to work, deeming a prolonged absence too risky since it could raise all sorts of red flags. She covered up with warm clothes, a pretty scarf wrapped around her neck, and faked a dry cough in the office.

She’d felt a shiver down her spine as she signed in at the front desk and ascended the stairs. Each step heavier than the last, she wondered if they would immediately pinpoint her as guilty. She’d taken sensitive information on one of the most terrible and controversial experimental trials ever: they would be looking for her, and they would employ every method. Her mind strayed to the variable in the equation, the one piece she could not control, the wild card that could make her or break her. Noir. And now that someone else had exposed them for using Compound V on babies to make them into superheroes, Vought was taking a lot of heat from fans, the media, and activists. They’d assume it was the same person who broke into the archives. So, they wouldn’t just be looking for her, they’d be hunting for her, ready to gun her down.

However, she was greeted back into the office with a couple waves and smiles, and everything went smoothly. She’d only been gone for a day, but a couple co-workers asked her about her cough and if she was feeling better. The day before, Martha had reassured a few of them when they’d asked about her so that she’d have an alibi.

And so, time rushed by, and, while she’d calmed down, she felt an inextricable knot in her chest. She was here, hiding in plain sight. And it could work, but only if Noir saw reason, if he questioned his loyalty towards the company and felt any for her.

Soon, it was time to pack up and go back home. She spoke with Martha and waved to a few co-workers before heading down the long hallway to take the elevator. She usually took the stairs, but suddenly preferred the quickest method to leave the building.

After pressing the button to call it up, Sarah stepped back and waited in the deserted hall. She felt, rather than heard a presence grow close. Noir came to stand beside her, seemingly waiting for the elevator himself. She looked at him through her dark lashes and fixed the scarf around her neck. Would this be it? Would he do it here at Vought where they could easily clean up the splatters?

The elevator arrived with a ding and he motioned for her to step in first, him following after. Were there no cameras in the elevators? Was that why he’d chosen this spot?

Noir moved closer to her and she wasn’t sure what to expect. She pressed her back to the elevator wall, feeling that characteristic warmth spread throughout her chest. But he did something surprising by placing his gloved hands on her hips, almost steadying her. He then produced a thin slip of folded paper, which he smoothly slid into one of her pants’ front pocket.

“What are you doing,” she whispered, trying to understand whatever he was trying to tell her.

Suddenly, the elevator dinged once again and slowed to a halt as someone got ready to join them on their way down.

Noir immediately stepped away as though she’d burned him. She soon realized why.

Crimson boots stepped into the small space, and Sarah thought she might suffocate as the doors slid closed. The dark blue suit and American flag taunted her.

Sarah knew what Homelander really was, how the selfishness and arrogance swam just below the surface.

He seemed deep in thought, but whatever trail he’d been following was interrupted by her loud heartbeat. He glanced to the side and saw the beautiful, albeit frazzled, woman in the corner. She stood straight and composed, yet she had a racing pulse.

Noir could also hear it and wished it would slow down to a normal rate. Capturing Homelander’s attention can be a dangerous thing.

She needed to stay hidden in the shadows, blend in with every other person at Vought. He would keep her from harm.

“Ma’am are you all right,” the Seven's leader asked with concern. “I don’t mean to invade your privacy,” he genuinely chuckled, “but I can hear your heart racing, like you're scared.”

Sarah shuffled her feet, “Oh no, I’m all right. I’m not a fan of small, enclosed spaces that’s all.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she suffocated the sudden need to shake it off. Just a few more floors and she’d be stepping off. Just a few more floors.

“Don’t worry, you have the strongest man in the world here, you’re safe.”

She smiled and thanked him before quickly stepping off. She slowed down, not wanting it to seem like she was running away. He’d meant to reassure her, but she could still feel the phantom weight of his hand on her shoulder. Once outside, she made her way home where she was ready to take a long shower and sleep amid her wrecked furniture.

Her fingers itched to touch the slip of paper in her pocket, to discover its meaning. She ultimately decided to read it at home away from prying eyes.

 [Vought Headquarters]

Once Sarah had stepped off the elevator, Black noir and Homelander made no move to follow. The doors closed and the caped man pressed the button for the upper levels.

Noir stilled, and suddenly had the urge to break the other man’s neck. He knew Homelander had seen them close together through the walls, and he realized he should’ve waited to hand her the note at her house.

“I was looking for you,” he spoke up with nonchalance, “and imagine my surprise when I saw you in here with that woman.”

Homelander smirked and slapped his shoulder, “You sly dog, Noir, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Noir fingers itched to pull a dagger, but he maintained his composure.

“Just keep your head on straight, yeah?”

Homelander straightened and faced forward, “You and me, Noir, we’re above it all—we were made for bigger things,” he cleared his throat, “I don’t want you distracted as we look for Stacker.”

Little did he know that she’d just rode the elevator with him, and never would he have imagined it possible for Black Noir to grow attached and protective of someone.

The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped out going their separate ways.

MASTERLIST

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[enygmass]

Hey there’s a Scarecrow week going on and like the second thing was Nightmares and Night Terrors and I was like, wow, finally something I can relate to. So I present to you - this.

_____________________________________

When he was nine, he had dreams.

Interruption - In psychology, there is a belief that a direct relation between trauma and the development of a disorder exists. In fact, if anything, this relation has been proven innumerable times.

At nine years old, Jonathan Crane didn’t know anything about this.

The only brush he had with any form of psychology was from the way his Grandmother would pour her verbal poison into his ear, uttering about heresies that came from his home and how, thanks to who his father was, his mind was peppered with underdeveloped portions and black, black rot. Jonathan was not yet the infamous Doctor Crane that he would eventually become. Instead, Jonathan was a nine-year-old boy in a cold bed in a cold home with the company of only himself, and right now, he couldn’t move.

Interruption - There is another aspect that psychology loves to delve into. It’s common, more-so than people think, but it causes damage to admirable lengths. It has no discernable cause, but what it can induce is a terror that remains unmatched to anything else, because it reflects what you fear the most. Doctors call it Sleep Paralysis; Jonathan called it a nightly routine.  

At least, so it had been for the past few weeks.

When he was nine, he had dreams, and they were always horrible ones.

Because it had become so common at this point, he was not overly alarmed when he opened his eyes and found himself unable to move. It took a few moments for the panic of realization to set in, but when it did, the muffled whimper that tore from his wired-shut lips was loud in the otherwise silent room. In his dreams, he always heard sounds. There would be voices that had no sources that he could see, or scratching along the walls, and more than once had he been aware of the sound of something gurgling from beneath his bed. Tonight? There was nothing.

That scared him more than anything else.

Interruption - His Grandmother had given him the secondary bedroom because she still claimed the master as her own. Even though it was more taxing for her to clean with the overabundance of space and such, it was the master bedroom and she retained it to prove her point. Call it compensation; an old woman who had lost everything except a bedroom with some cheap, irrelevant title attached to it. Jonathan didn’t mind what he got shelved with. Despite it being called the secondary bedroom, it was still spacious enough to fit the toys he had, as well as his drawings. But his favorite aspect of the room – and it still would be when he would return twenty years later – was the canopy around the bed. It was a deep, satiny red that seemed to wrap around the frame, cocooning him from both his Grandmothers eyes and the eyes of the house.

Sometimes he forgot to close it. Tonight was one of those times.

In his room, he saw nothing but darkness. Even the moonlight that usually streamed from his window, and the hall lights that shone beneath the door crack because his Grandmother left them on, were absent in this moment. All Jonathan could hear were the sound of his whimpers and his rapid breaths. Because he was propped up in his bed [he always slept so oddly] he was able to see the corners of the room and could gradually discern just what was where. Bear in the left corner. Empty bookshelf in the right corner. Slowly, as he repeated these steps, his breathing leveled out and he felt that he was almost free of this frozen grasp.

Then, a sound.

A normal person would have to listen very closely to hear it, but because it was so silent and because Jonathan was so alone, the sound was deafening in his ears. He didn’t want to look at the source, not because he couldn’t, but because the source of the noise came from the corner on the ceiling, and Jonathan knew that nothing was supposed to be up there.

However, curiosity killed the cat, and he held his breath as his gaze went back to the bear in the left corner and then gradually up.

There was a man crouched on his ceiling.

At least, Jonathan thought it was a man. He couldn’t quite tell because as soon as he saw it he began to hyperventilate, feeling his chest constrict and his eyes nearly bug out of the sockets as he begged, no, pleaded for something to break him out of this state so he could run. But of course, that didn’t happen, and Jonathan remained in the bed like a piece of bait primed for taking.

The thing hadn’t seemed to have noticed him yet. It was crouched in the corner, a black mass that just hovered there, but Jonathan could hear it mumbling to itself over and over. Its voice sounded like the wind through the cornstalks, a sound he was familiar with, coupled with the breaking of a rusted handle, like the sound the aviary doors had made when his Grandmother had first taken him there. This only made him whimper more, and that was when Jonathan knew he had made a mistake.

It must have heard him, because as soon as the sound escaped into the room a long, unnaturally formed limb stretched out until a hand was pressed firmly against his ceiling. This was accompanied by another, and Jonathan watched on in horror as the thing began to gradually unfurl itself and crawl across his ceiling towards him. At least, he watched as long as he could. Eventually, he shut his eyes as It continued its slow process towards his covered form. A scratch, the sound of a hand hitting the wall, and then creaking. Its hand had come to grasp his bedframe, followed by another creak, indicating the other one had landed as well. Then, a heavy weight on the bed, followed by nothing.

Jonathan could only hear his own breathing as he focused on moving a finger, just one, just enough to get him out of this. It was somehow colder than usual in his room and there was a moldy aroma, like a basement that had been closed forever, accompanied by the scent of age-old dust. He tried to keep his eyes closed. In fact, his effort was almost valiant, but eventually, curiosity curled its fingers towards him once more, and he found himself opening his eyes despite his minds protest.

There was a man who sat on his bed.

At least, Jonathan thought it was a man. A burlap mask that covered where its face would have prevented him from confirming that his suspicions were true. Its long, gangly arms clothed by a dark green sweater that reminded Jonathan of the one his Grandmother had were resting on either side of his head, and through the burlap mask he could feel the faint tickling of breath on his face. He did not move, both because he could not move and because he did not want to move. Instead, he stared. He stared, and he could have sworn to God he felt eyes staring back at him even though they were not present on the coarse fabric that was in his face now.

The man, the monster, might’ve spoken. He might’ve said something, but whatever he said Jonathan could not hear above the sound of blood rushing to his ears. He felt faint. He felt so unnaturally faint, and this had never happened in an episode before. As dark spots began to encroach into his vision, he watched as one of those long limbs retracted and grasped the edge of the mask, beginning to pull it upwards. Jonathan closed his eyes again because he did not want to see the monsters grotesque face – he knew that if he saw it, something dreadful would happen, a realization that would cripple him into a thoughtless, mindless boy who did nothing but sit in a chair and whisper about the burlaped man who crawled into his bed one night.

He waited for the pain, waited to take his final breath because surely that was what was going to happen, but it didn’t.

The moldy smell faded and the cold went with it. The bed felt lighter and the sounds of the house – creaking of pipes, creaking of his Grandmothers footsteps as she hovered outside his room – reassumed, and when Jonathan opened his eyes for the second time, he saw nothing. Sensation had returned to his limbs and at the moment, he was so overwhelmed that all he could do was cover his face to hide the sting in his eyes from unshed tears, of relief or terror, he was not sure. In his room, he was alone, and he had never been happier to be so.

Doctors call it Sleep Paralysis; Jonathan would come to call it The Scarecrow.  

[dreamsofthescreen]

The BBC’s Take On Greta Thunberg - A Year To Change The World Review & Analysis

“I don’t want you to listen to me, I want you to listen to the science”. 

Where the world needs a leader, the general image is not an introverted 18 year old Swedish girl discussing the burning topic of climate change. Yet internationally known environmental activist Greta Thunberg has taken the world by storm, her recent journey being followed on BBC’s ‘A Year To Change The World’. With Thunberg as the star, we follow more than just her life in the limelight, but the grand science behind the work that she so elegantly does. Speaking on the devastating effects that climate change has, we are not only given valuable information, we are so emotionally moved by the composition of and meaning behind Thunberg’s gruelling fight for climate justice. As an audience, we are presented with facts that have us question our place and responsibility as human beings in our ever-changing, endangered world. Where documentaries give insight into an icon’s life and legacy, Greta Thunberg’s ‘A Year To Change The World’, gives us an outstanding message on the urgency of the present moment that we have to protect this earth, making it all the more beautifully affecting and involved with our society.

‘Greta Thunberg: A Year To Change The World’ has the BBC follow Greta’s ventures over the last couple of years across three episodes. Filmed on location across North America & Europe, we see Thunberg walking across glaciers, through Canadian rockies, into power plants and climate conferences. The BBC so greatly touch on events that show such great relevance to popular society today. What makes a documentary so great is it’s ability to educate and change it’s viewers. And change is the goal with the showing of this series. We are given insight into the personal affects of natural disasters, like the 2018 Californian Wildfires that killed 85, not only hearing from the victims themselves, but hearing Thunberg explain the heartbreaking science behind an event that is usually just seen as another news item. To see the upfront, raw emotion from a resident from Paradise conveys how serious matters were. The facts that go along with the devastation of the wildfire pushes us as an audience to look at where we stand. As in scenes like this accompanied by Greta, we see just how many lost everything & really had been driven to the point of suicide due to the fires, creating a personal moment. Yet, where there is this truth and emotion, there is a snarky politician, in this case 45th President Donald Trump who brushed the fires off as a result of ‘poor forest management’. These comparisons have the impact to frustrate audiences, getting them to so clearly form an understanding of the severity of our world at threat, rather than just showing the glorified version of Greta’s work or fame. It is raw. And Thunberg says it herself best, touching on natural disasters by stating, “we see all these things repeating themselves over and over again, people die and people suffer from it, but we completely fail to connect the dots”.

Greta again and again speaks with countless scientists, workers and politicians across the globe on the climate crisis. From meeting them at power plants to Scandinavian border crossings, parliament houses and national parks, we are endlessly thrown pieces of information that we cannot miss or deny. We so easily see the scale of the problem at hand in dire need of assistance today. The series itself is a bit predictable at times, with Thunberg sat in a warehouse-like studio, explaining her mission & meaning behind her work. Unless you are a complete novice to ever having heard of the name Greta Thunberg, then a fair bit of what she speaks about has been said before on most news items on her. Yet it hardly lessens the impact of the series, as it still stands strong, due to the fact that it is the science that is the key focus, rather than only Greta herself. Something that makes this series less self indulged & more for the audience to be educated is this matter. But this gives it such quality, instead of a glossed over narrative of a celebrities life.

Greta herself had stated that the motivation behind the project was to “give science a voice and to really go more in depth” and for the series to “make a lasting impact”. And indeed it mostly does, the camera following Greta not only just documents her ventures, but delves into the emotional impact that her work has on the world and herself. This is what makes a strong feature - one that so surely impacts an audience. As we are shown images of the worldwide protests that Thunberg’s ‘Friday’s For Future’ sparked enormously, we are all the more inspired. She speaks on her childhood and how, through discovering the disastrous affects of climate change, she was severely depressed. Yet her ambition to fight climate justice, and succeeding to the greatest amount is another element the documentary that shows Thunberg’s ambition and beautiful determination to fearlessly continue fighting for the one thing she believes is so paramountly right. No doubt that Thunberg does not enjoy the spotlight put on her, but it is her mission at hand that she is focusing on, despite the load of hate and discrimination thrown at her. Cameras click and Thunberg is almost worshipped by her followers, yet this is not what she is about. She makes it clear that it isn’t about her, the opening of each episode showing Thunberg stating, “I don’t want you to listen to me. I want you to listen to the science”.  

And the science is right. The BBC so eloquently explores many facets of the areas in our world that impact the climate the most, showing Thunberg touching on the impact of flying, materialism and the food industry. As a former vegan, I remember it was the documentaries that changed my life. Watching features like Earthlings and Cowspiracy completely shifted my view on our world. Not only Thunberg’s mentioning of things we can do to reduce our carbon footprint, but how important it is to do so is what packs such a punch. We see the reasons behind why Thunberg has chosen to stop shopping, take up a meat & dairy free diet, as well as suspending all air travel, as they all amount to the toxic pollution and mass-consumerism that our society emits. Greta focuses on these topics & asks familiar faces how things may have changed throughout the years. One of these familiar faces was Sir David Attenborough. As he and Greta meet in the London, it is this touching moment that we see two icons discuss something so topical that grabs audiences attention easily. It is clear how important this issue is to the both of them, Thunberg’s twisting facial expressions already telling us so much. These moments do make ‘A Year To Change The World’ so very provoking, as viewers do know and love popular personalities. Emotional moments are conveyed strongly, as Episode 1 ends with Greta returning home to Stockholm for Christmas after 134 days of travel and campaigning. Backed by a celestial rendition of ‘Silent Night’, Thunberg speaks on the grand importance of hope, whilst she is captured emotionally returning home to her dogs and familiarity, showing a sense of her normality. It is in these moments that we too see another side to Thunberg.

While we don’t learn entirely new things about Gretas fight for the climate, we do somewhat delve into her as a person, not only seeing just how iconic she has become, but why she needed to be a voice for our generation. Thunberg states that “my favourite story growing up was the emperors new clothes. the emperor is naked & everyone just pretends he isn’t. the only one who dares to question this collective lie is a child.” Thunberg’s young age is something that has been attacked tirelessly, news reporters labelling her as ‘naive’. But her ambition and blunt passion for her work makes he soar above others at times. Where many are afraid to speak out, Thunberg is known for doing just that. Some paint a picture of Greta as a youngster who battles it out with politicians in heated debates on the climate crisis. But it is hardly that, as her wisdom and emotional maturity has her soaring over politicians in terms of the ambition to just get things done. Thunberg has no fear in revealing that politicians like prime-minister Angela Merkel has summarised the fact that the German government’s ideals weren’t lining up with the Paris Agreement, as they were supposedly assured to be. Any opportunity she can, she shuts down any politicians’ misleading promises and repetitive rhetoric. Thunberg’s strong-willed nature contrasts many world leaders, showcasing her growing power, making her character and work simply inspiring across all generations. Her resilience and devotion to her craft is gracefully documented, making ‘A Year To Change The World’ a feature that does mostly delve into parts of Greta’s psyche.

As the BBC closes out the 3 episode journey of the most distinguished climate activist with a roar of stringed instruments and comments from scientists on the urgency of our moment now and to stop ignoring the facts, we see the numbers firsthand. As global temperatures are to rise by 2-3 degrees celcius by the end of this century, this may not seem like a lot to us now, but with empathy, we must see how detrimental it is to the future. As Thunberg time and time again sounds the alarm in an attempt to wake up our society on the pressing need for us to change our ways in order to save our only home - earth. ‘Greta Thunberg: A Year to Change The World’ is one of those features that has great potential, which it successfully meets. Sure, there is always room for improvement and further depth, but if we take a look at a single series and are able to step back & see ourselves in the grand scheme of things, amongst all the noise, then a great documentary-series has been made.

Stars Out of Five: 4/5

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[96generation]

Starry Morning

It was a normal Thursday in September when I got a call from my college roommate, Viv. She was having another one of her impulsive moments of needing to escape the corporate world and delve herself into an unknown adventure. And as usual, I am right there with her, planning our next adventure. But this time, we stumbled on the idea of Iceland. There really was not a profound way in which we decided to choose Iceland. Rather it was the opening of “WOW Airline” and their special of a roundtrip ticket from San Francisco to Reykjavik was merely that of an Amazon prime subscription. Without much thought and preparation, Viv and I, decided that our 5 days in Iceland would be that of adventure and freedom.

Our road trip around Iceland became a general topic Viv and I would reminisce on. The beauty in which we beheld was one to remember, but it was the sheer stupidity that would most often became the main topic of our conversations. Because we only had 5 days to explore Iceland, we wanted to make the most of it. When we landed, the first thing we did was go pick up a car to help us navigate around the island. Now, Iceland’s infamous Ring Road, circled around the country and became notorious for taking tourists into a dangerous and unknown territory as weather conditions had many inexperienced drivers reckless. By some grace, Viv and I, against all odds were able to navigate the two way road in our Toyota Yaris rental. We had woken up at 2am, after napping for 4 hours during the first day to track down some Northern Lights. We were both skeptical in paying 60 euros per person to a professional tour guide when we had the internet and GPS navigation at our fingertips. The first couple of hours went by monotonous as we tried chasing any fragments of light that we perceived to be the aurora borealis. We got more and more discouraged as the sun was about to come up, so we decided to go against our better judgements and take the small roads as a short cut to get to higher ground. There were many signs warning us that if we were to go down this road, there was no way a towing truck would be able to rescue us. Being delirious from lack of sleep and biting the bullet to find our sense of adventure, we kept going. As our tires pivot and skid in the dark icy roads, snow started falling. We both were past the point of turning around and wanted to keep going. The potholed filled roads were also another problem we encountered. It was as if meteorites had falling from the sky and fell onto the pavement. Every mile became agonizing and we both prayed that the snow would subside and that the roads would become smooth once more. When the snow finally waned, we looked up at the clear sky and saw the most beautiful symphony of stars that we both had ever seen. We were miles from town, the only source of artificial light was from our compact automobile. Our cameras and phones did little justice to the sight that we saw. And as we both laid in our seats, head tilting up, I felt like against all the odds, we were meant to share that moment together. And what came next was dawn. As we drove back down the mountain, we finally caught a glimpse of what we were driving next to for the past four hours. The sun started touching the base of the horizon as we saw endless greens and hills. The movement of the hills started piecing together as herds and herds of sheep roamed the area unbothered. It was as close to serenity as one could get. There is little to no photograph of that day, we both were so present in the moment that it had not crossed our minds to catalogue it. That morning only exists now in both our memories.