#it must be so weird to work on a multinational set like this when you can only speak one of the languages tbh

[spaceytrash]

Daniel Craig in the behind the scenes of Obsession 1997

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

L O V E B O U N D

“Christmasbound III”

I know many of you never thought this day would come, but I’m glad to be back with our three favorites. please be kind, as I drafted this within a day. I genuinely hope you’ll like it. merry christmas from the fam xx 

“And if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know you know, you’ll always know me. Dorothea. Uh uh” 

She keeps her eyes closed, feels the warm and soft material underneath her huge headphones that cover the entirety of her ears. Surrounded by blankets and curtains, hanging right from her opened closet, Taylor feels the same warmth she’s always felt when recording music. Under normal circumstances, this would’ve been in a professional setting. A recording studio with narrow walls and acoustic matts covering the walls. 

This little home studio in her closet certainly doesn’t compare. 

With her eyes still closed, Taylor moves her head with the beat of the music, mindlessly  reaches for the headphones. She doesn’t have to open her eyes, doesn’t have to be able to hear the slightest noise beneath the music to know exactly that someone is making their way to her. It’s instinctive, it’s natural.

With the huge headphones now in her hands, Taylor stops the recording on her laptop that is placed on the little table on her right side and then slowly turns around. She smiles. Her five, almost six year old child is standing in the room. She’s barefoot. Her long Pajama pants covering her petite legs. Blonde and curly hair in all directions, obviously in need for a cuddle with her momma as she rubs her puffy eyes and walks straight towards her mom. 

“Mornin’ honey.” Taylor just mumbles into the warm neck, a little laugh escaping her lips as she already feels Eleanor hugging her neck so tight. A tiny head is now placed on her shoulders. She sighs in her low voice, seems to be in her half asleep dreamland state. Taylor breathes her baby girl in, slowly rubs her small back up and down. This just never changes. 

“How did you sleep?” Taylor asks her quietly, slowly pulls back to squish the tired and warm cheeks and presses a big kiss onto them a few times. Eleanor just stands there, obviously still tired.

“Good.” she says, her eyes on her momma’s big microphone in the midst of the bedroom. Taylor knows that this is as weird for Eleanor as it is for her. After all she’s never recorded an album from home. Eleanor knows that her mom writes songs on the piano or on the guitar sometimes, but this whole technical set- up is yet another thing that has become Eleanor’s new reality. This global pandemic really has brought many changes into the little girls life. 

“What are you singing?” she says quietly, still looking up to the big round microphone on the stand where her mom is sitting. 

“I’m recording this song I wrote, called Dorothea.” 

Eleanor looks at Taylor with big eyes, the same big blue eyes she knows from someone else so well and nods slowly. Taylor laughs. 

“Who is Dorothea?” she asks then and Taylor grins. 

“That’s a good question. She’s a beautiful girl who’s moved away from the little old town she grew up in and became famous, and everyone knows her.” 

The blonde signer can already see in the five year old’s face that this conversation won’t go anywhere. Eleanor nods distracted, as Taylor places the headphones on the table next to her and pulls Eleanor onto her lap. 

“Breakfast?” 

Eleanor nods. Taylor slowly gets up, the big girl on her arms while making her way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Eleanor slowly cuddles herself once more into her arms and Taylor doesn’t complain. Currently, she absorbs every second of this clingy and cuddly phase that her daughter is going through. Taylor immediately has to think of the words of her pediatrician from the other week ago. This current global crisis is a big mystery for children. Everyone wears masks. No more playing with friends. No leaving the house anymore. How scary this must be for someone who doesn’t understand the world yet? Taylor knows that Eleanor has every reason to be clingy and needy of her mom during this time. And she enjoys this phase more than she ever thought she would. Back when Eleanor was a baby, she would sometimes dream about what it would be like to have a child who can play by herself, use the bathroom by herself, eat by herself. Now that her baby girl is in her last year of pre- school, Taylor realizes that time is just a construct and that every cuddle and every hug is only temporary. But it’s appreciated. So incredibly appreciated. 

“Are you looking forward to your ladybug class today?” Taylor whispers into Eleanor’s ears and the little girl nods excitedly, just as Taylor places her on the marble counter right downstairs in the kitchen. Taylor grins, slowly opens the fridge. 

“Today we have to bring our favorite teddy bear and I want to bring Benji.” Eleanor says excitedly, as Taylor just looks at her daughter and laughs. 

“Don’t you think Miss Clarkson will know that he’s a real life cat and not a teddy bear?” Taylor says amusedly while pouring some oat milk into a little cup right on the stove. In her light blue pajamas, just like Eleanor’s, Taylor brings the milk to heat up and looks back at the curly head who’s already playing with the little miniature dolls she left on the counter last night. 

“No because daddy always says Benji is a little bear!” Eleanor says laughing, seems to be more than excited about her clever idea. And if her dad says so, then it has to be right. Taylor grins at her baby girl while preparing her hot chocolate. She knows exactly how important Joe’s words are for the little girl. Eleanor is already focused on her little dolls again, seems to have almost forgotten that Taylor is in the room with her, and sings quietly while playing around.

“Here’s your hot chocolate.” Taylor says, pronouncing the last two words in an extra British way to make her daughter laugh. Eleanor takes the big cup with the kitties on the front right from her, and pulls out her tongue laughing. Taylor just laughs as well, both her hands on her head fixing the little curls.

"Mummy, it’s hot chocolate.” the five year old replies, automatically switched to her British accent, loves to correct her mum when it comes to pronouncing words the British way. Taylor will never be less impressed by the fact that her child is able to switch accents perfectly within the matter of five seconds. A perk of having multinational parents and growing up in two countries at the same time.

“My little British baby.” Taylor grins, then steals Eleanor’s forehead a kiss. 

“Mommy, can we go to the park today with daddy?” 

Taylor doesn’t say anything for a second, fixes Eleanor’s strand of hair before letting go off her. She stands right in front of the counter where Eleanor is sitting and slurping her hot cocoa. Taylor just quietly nods and Eleanor’s eyes seem to light up just within a few seconds.

“We have to speak to daddy anyways today and see what we’re gonna do for Christmas this year.”

“Mommy can we please celebrate with daddy and grandma?” Eleanor immediately says, places the mug next to her and starts pulling on her mom’s pajama shirt. Taylor knows this version of Eleanor too well. Whenever she really wants something she becomes all clingy and impatient. Taylor just sighs. 

“Baby, we can’t celebrate all together because of covid. I explained that to you before.” Taylor says carefully, looks into Eleanor’s pouty face in the hope to find understanding. 

“I promised you that you will see daddy and grandma for Christmas, we just... haven’t worked out a concrete plan yet.”

Eleanor doesn’t seem to understand what her mom just said, but she nods. The same pout as before. This quarantine situation is hard on Eleanor. Taylor knows that too well.

“Okay.” Eleanor just mouths quietly. Taylor smiles silently. Within a few seconds, her lips are meeting the tiny forehead again. Lips pressed against the soft skin, she kisses her daughter a few times, whispering a low “I love you” in between. Eleanor replies as lightly as always and Taylor helps her jump down from the counter. She quickly encounters Olivia and Benjamin who just made their way to the kitchen to greet the little girl that just got up. Taylor smiles at Eleanor and her quirky way of speaking with the cats. Just like siblings. It makes her laugh sometimes. 

“Okay, Liv. You can play with me but you can’t steal my wedding dress again.” Eleanor says in all seriousness to Olivia as the two cats and the little girl disappear up the stairs. Taylor looks amusedly after them, slowly makes her way to the coffee machine and reaches for her phone that she left here this morning when she made herself coffee number one. With her favorite baby blue cup under the coffee machine, she presses the button and waits a few seconds. Her eyes wander onto her phone screen. Right on top of the background picture of Eleanor in the snow, Taylor reads the texts she missed from her friend Martha. Once Eleanor is with Joe, she definitely needs a class of wine and a good catch up session with her friends. 

“Did you put on your warm socks?”

“Yes.” 

“Good.” Taylor yells back upstairs at her daughter, as she crunches down to grab the cat treats that are buried in the depths of her kitchen drawer. She immediately sees a very excited Benjamin come closer. Taylor grins at him. 

“Of course you are the first one to be in line for treats huh.” she grins, immediately pets him on his head before feeding him.

Just when Taylor was about to close the drawer again, she can hear the doorbell ring. Within a matter of seconds, a very excited Eleanor storms downstairs. Taylor gets up, checks the little screen in the kitchen and feels her stomach churn. It’s always like that, every week when he stands in her front door. The black and white security camera still managing to point out his kind eyes, his voluminous hair, his effortlessness. He’s wearing his thick APC coat. The one he wore years ago when they first met. She still can’t believe he won’t get rid of it, has pointed this out to him multiple times already.

“It’s daddy!” Eleanor yells, and Taylor can already hear Joe’s quiet laugh. Of course there’s never a time when Eleanor simply leaves with Joe and not makes her face him in the doorway. Taylor just approaches Eleanor who’s standing in front of the opened door, looking back at her mum, waiting patiently for her to join her here. Sometimes, Taylor could almost think that she does this on purpose. That she makes sure Taylor has to face her dad every time he comes around to pick her up.

Within a few seconds, Taylor stands in front of him now too, her hand stroking over Eleanor’s wool beanie. The little girl is fully dressed for the winter park, her tiny green jacket matching her cream- colored beanie. Joe almost has no time to face Taylor, because Eleanor is already attacking him, jumping onto his arms to hug him tightly. He immediately picks the small girl up and spins her around a few times, groaning into her ears how much he missed her, placing a little kiss on top of he beanie on her head. Just when he slowly lets her back down to the ground is when Joe has the time to face Taylor.  For once. She just stands there in her cream colored onesie, the one she used to hang out around the house with even back when they were still together. Her feet still wear the same weird fox slippers he used to make fun of. Her hair loosely hanging from the little bun in her neck. She’s not well put together, looks exactly the way only he used to see her around the house. And Joe hates it. He hates that she faces him today, looking like this again. Looking the way she did the first time he stayed over at her place in New York years ago. Not trying at all. Making him feel things he promised himself after last Christmas, to never feel again. Store them under the bed, right in the little box of his past and to lock her up, right in there. And make sure they won’t creep up again, the way they do right now. 

“Hey.” she mumbles, a polite smile escaping her mouth. Joe takes a breath, looks at Eleanor to distract himself for a bit, before looking back up at her again. Facing her has never been easy since last year. But he’s getting better at it.

“Hey, I didn’t see you last time.” he already blurts out, has no clue why his nervous mouth has to just babble like this, without taking into consideration that it makes him look a bit weird and... nervous. Taylor seems just as uncomfortable as he is, laughs insecurely once more, then scratches the back of her head while standing in the doorway. 

“Yeah, I was on a meeting last time you picked her up so..”

Joe just nods. He shouldn’t have said what he said before. Things are already awkward enough between them. 

“Ready to leave, monkey?” He asks Eleanor, who is now sitting on the floor right next to the open door, putting her winter boots on. She nods immediately, seems to struggle a bit with her shoe laces, but is way too excited to sit still while looking at the big dog next to Joe. Taylor smiles. Eleanor loves Flint as much as the cats, always has and always will.

“Yes, daddy. Can I hold Flint again, later?” 

“Of course. He’s so happy to see you too.” Joe mumbles with a smile on his face, crouches down to pet the big old golden retriever. 

“Mummy, can you join us too?” Eleanor pouts, looking up at her mum from the floor. 

Taylor laughs nervously a third time today, just shakes her head no. She can feel Joe’s stare in her neck, knows exactly why he’s so quiet all of the sudden.

“Honey, I told you I have some more work to do.” 

“But mummy..” Eleanor pouts again, becoming as whiny as always when she wants something and Taylor just sighs. 

“It’s good to get some fresh air. Especially now with the whole quarantine thing.” Joe says lightly, and Taylor turns to look at him. She knows his look and he knows hers. 

He tried this before. 

And so did she. 

“I don’t know, I think it’s Eleanor and Daddy time, and…”

“No mummy, please. We can play with Flint together!” Eleanor tries again, now stands fully upright with her winter jacket and red boots next to her, and reaches for her mom’s hand. Taylor just sighs again, looks at Joe once more. She’s rolling her eyes and it makes Joe laugh. He just smiles, knows exactly how good their daughter is at getting what she wants, but makes sure not to look into Taylor’s eyes for too long. It feels like a welcoming distraction when Eleanor suddenly gets closer to him, lets herself fall onto his side once more, just hugging her dad’s leg before petting Flint again. 

“Look mummy, he wants you to come with us.” Eleanor persists, points at Flint who just looks up at Tay. This old dog knows as well what the little girl is trying here. 

Taylor just shakes her head and laughs. Eleanor definitely has that from her. 

“Alright, if dad doesn’t mind..”

“He doesn’t.” Joe grins, and Taylor just nods, takes a step back to signal him that they can come back inside the house for a minute, just until she’s ready. 

“Let me just put on some clothes, I’ll be back in a second.” she mumbles, already starts walking upstairs. Joe just closes the big door behind him, feels the warmth of this house and already smells the sandalwood candles coming from the kitchen. It smells like something he used to know so well. It smells like home. 

“Daddy, come look at my pre- school folder.” Eleanor runs off yelling for him. With Flint next to him, Joe just laughs at his daughter. 

“Darling, my shoes are a bit dirty from outside, I don’t..”

“Please daddy!” Eleanor calls him from the kitchen already. Joe quickly takes his shoes off with one hand, then makes his way into the kitchen. He has to swallow for a second as his eyes fall onto the picture frames placed upon the chimney. All the black and white pictures of the little baby girl. Taylor and Eleanor in the hospital bed. Benjamin and Eleanor on her first birthday. Pictures he took. Pictures that once meant the world to him. And she’s kept it all, certainly made this place a home. 

“Daddy, look, I made this yesterday.” She squirms excitedly, holds the folder right in front of Joe. She’s fully clothed and ready for the cold. Joe has to laugh at her excitement to show him what she’s made. 

“Wow, darling.” He just mumbles, is already crouching down to get a better look at her art project. A big rainbow fish, filled with glitter and confetti decorates the cover. In the middle of the front page, it says Eleanor Alwyn. Pre- School Class of 2020. He couldn’t be prouder. 

“Look, this is a picture of me and mummy in lockdown.” she explains once Joe has opened the first page. He can’t help but smile. 

“What are you two doing?” He asks. 

“We’re watching a Christmas movie, look!” she says, her tiny finger pointing to what seems to be the television. He can’t help but laugh again, slowly turns his head to press a kiss onto her small face. There are no words for how much he loves this little girl. 

“Have you and mum watched many of these this year?”

“Yes!” she just answers, and Joe laughs. Just in that moment, Taylor comes back into the room and sees the two crouching on the kitchen floor with her art folder. Flint is just sitting next to them, looking less excited about the scenery than Joe.

“I’m ready.” she just mumbles, and Joe looks up at her. He’s still smiling, seems to love what Eleanor is showing him.

“Are you showing daddy your pre- school folder?” Taylor laughs, as Joe looks up at her. He seems to catch himself becoming emotional, and slowly gets up. 

“I’m so impressed what you two have been doing in quarantine.” He says with a smirk and Taylor can’t help but laugh as well. 

“We’ve been very productive, haven’t we?” Taylor says and Eleanor nods, seems to not have understood the sarcasm between her parents. 

“Ready?” Joe asks, looks at Taylor with a questioning look. Instead of getting dressed, she just threw a massive puff jacket over her onesie, a pair of black boots replacing the fox slippers and her blonde hair right under the grey beanie. 

“Yeah, I was too lazy to get dressed so…”

“Alright, let’s go.” Joe mumbles, doesn’t comment her choice of outfit any further. Within a few seconds, they have left the house, started walking right into Camberbatch Road, and down the little lane to get closer to Hampstead Park. Whilst today was one of the coldest days so far, the sun is still up, sometimes disappearing behind the thick clouds, but steadily there. Making sure to come back and warm up this cold world at least for some time. 

Eleanor has been as chatty as always when Joe picks her up to go for a walk in the park. For the first few minutes she’s been walking hand in hand with her dad, telling him about today’s class and how excited her class mates on Zoom have been when Benjamin showed up as her teddy bear. Taylor just listens quietly to their conversation and smiles. It’s been a good idea to get some fresh air, even if things with Joe are still more than awkward.

“Has he been sitting still?” Joe asks Eleanor, who immediately starts laughing, throws her head against her dad’s arm just being silly. 

“No.” She laughs and so does Joe. He looks at Taylor and she grins as well. 

“I mean what would you expect of Benji, huh?” 

“Nothing less.” Joe answers. 

A few minutes later the the three have reached the beginning of the Heath and the five year old girl impatiently starts to reach for Flint’s leash. She is getting more and more impatient the closer they came to the big park. Joe quickly stops and then crouches down to be able to properly look at his daughter. 

“Alright bug, be careful and come back to me if another dog comes along, alright?” he asks and Eleanor excitedly nods, as Joe gives her Flint’s leash. Whilst the dog is almost her height, Eleanor confidently starts to run off onto the grass together with Flint by her side. Despite her huge puff jacket, she’s able to run as fast as humanly possible. Joe looks after them, can’t help but laugh quietly as well. 

“Her confidence is everything.” Taylor mumbles while looking after her daughter, making Joe smirk. 

“She’s done this many times, she can handle him.” 

“Oh yeah I know, I.. I didn’t mean that.” She quickly adds and Joe nods, has no clue where the sudden awkwardness is coming from. He simply stares on the ground, can’t dare to look up to her or even right into her face. All he does is look at his feet, how his big winter boots are walking right on the cold ground. There’s not many people around, but more people than usually, two days before Christmas. 

“So how are you?” Joe then asks, lifts up his head to look at what’s right in front of him, sees Eleanor and Flint playing and running on the fields at Hampstead Heath. Just like he did when he was Eleanor’s age. Right on the same grass. A nice circle that’s closing for him.

“I’m good. What about you? How has quarantine been treating you?” She asks, feels his slight laugh, even if she doesn’t look at him. 

“It’s been fine. Just really annoying that we’re going back to Tier 4 again.” he mumbles, is more than happy that coronavirus is once more a great small talk topic to avoid awkward silences. 

Taylor immediately nods, then even dares to look up at him while walking through the park. 

“Ugh I know. This year has been such a mess.” she mumbles and Joe immediately nods.

“It really has been. I’m glad you two are staying safe not traveling.” Joe then says and dares to look at Taylor for the first time today. Taylor looks back at him, then sinks her head covered in her grey beanie once more. She knows exactly how he meant his last statement, and it’s hard for her to take. To feel how much he cares. For both of them. Still.

“Of course. It’s impossible for us to fly around during this time, especially cause pre- school has been extending their classes to make sure the kids are busy until things go back to normal. So it’s been great for her to have a daily schedule to see her friends.” Taylor says, looks at Eleanor who’s no more than a hundred meters away from both of them, running wild with Flint, who seems to barely be able to keep up with her. This poor old dog. 

“Absolutely. You’re.. you’re doing a fantastic job being home with her 24/7. I... I hope you know that if it gets too much, you can just drop her off for a few days and I’ll keep her busy.” 

Taylor looks at Joe and smiles. He’s never offered this to her since they’ve been in lockdown, and it’s more appreciated than he can imagine. With her bare face, Taylor smiles at him, her breath visible in front of her face due to the cold.

“Thanks, I think I might actually have to take on that offer.” She says, a laughing breath of air escaping her. Joe looks up at her once more, a bit confused.

“It’s exhausting to keep her busy 24/7. I’ve been trying to work, but...”

“Taylor, seriously, I live two kilometers away, why didn’t you ask me...”

Taylor wants to interrupt him and explain herself, but she knows too well that there’s no reason for her not calling him. There’s no reason why she didn’t ask for his help, why she didn’t simply put Eleanor in a car and let her stay at his house for a while. There is no reason, and it’s the first time that she realizes that herself might be the only reason for the distance between them right now.

“I... I didn’t know this is something you’d want to do.” She says then, knowing damn well that she’s lying.

“Of course, just... just have her stay with me for a few days after Christmas if you want.” Taylor doesn’t interrupt him, just nods as they continue walking down the Heath. The trees look so sad, have lost their leaves months ago already. Rotten and almost forgotten, do these leaves now remain on the ground, buried under the footprints of the endless amounts of people walking down this park this winter, trying to escape the prison of quarantine. Taylor has noticed before how many people have started going on hikes, connecting with nature again to escape being home all the time. A crazy dynamic for the world they’re all living in.

“Speaking of Christmas,” she then says, kind of happy that she’s been able to change topics. 

“So as you probably know, there’s no way we can visit my parents this year or vice versa so I wanted to ask if it’s fine for you if Eleanor and me celebrate at my house on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day and a day later if you want, you can have her for a few days?” she asks, as  Joe already looks up at her with a confused look. 

“So you want to be alone with Eleanor for Christmas basically?” he asks again, and Taylor can already hear the mood changing in his voice. She really doesn’t want this to turn into an argument, she doesn’t want to disagree with Joe while having a conversation with him for the first time in months.

“I mean we’re in quarantine. The government literally told us to...”

“Tay, she’s five.” Joe suddenly interrupts her, and Taylor doesn’t know what hurts her more. The fact that he called her Tay, which is what only her closest people call her or the fact that he seems upset. She can feel that in his voice.

“She’s five years old and she’s got her dad and her uncles and her grandparents live.. a few meters away. I mean I appreciate that you want to keep her safe but we’re all getting tested tomorrow morning and I really want her to at least have a good Christmas especially in such a shitty year.”

Taylor doesn’t say anything, feels Joe becoming quieter and looking back at her.

“I just...”

“I want you to join as well.” he then suddenly blurts out, and within a matter of seconds, Taylor’s stops and looks at him in confusion. Joe turns around to her, his hands buried in his jacket. It’s freezing and he’s never been happier for the pockets in his black jacket.

“Joe, I... I appreciate you..”

“No Tay, I’m serious. I don’t want you and Eleanor be all alone on Christmas. Not her and not you. It’s... we’re....” 

She can feel him search for words and it already pains her. He hasn’t said it yet and she doesn’t want him to. She knows what’s coming. She knows it too well.

“In some ways we’re still a family and I just don’t want you to sit alone in this house on Christmas Day. With or without Eleanor and...”

“Joe.” Taylor says. Her hand on his arm, she was just about to say something as Eleanor comes running by, seems more than upset. Immediately, Joe understands the situation. Flint has run off, right up to a couple with a small dog. Joe whistles twice and Flint quickly comes running back. “Did he run off?” Joe asks her, as Eleanor just nods quietly. Within a few seconds, Taylor has crouched down onto Eleanor’s height, takes her into her arms. Joe looks confused at the two, only then realized that Eleanor fell when Flint was running off.

“Oh darling, did you hurt yourself?” he asks as Taylor already signals him that the fall wasn’t that bad. Just when she lets go off Eleanor, the little girl hugs her dad once more, crocodile tears falling down her cheeks.

“I hurt my hand” she sobs, and Joe immediately reaches for the slightly bruised and cold hand and kisses it a few times, warming her up.

“My poor little angel.” he mumbles and Eleanor hugs her dad again, placing her head on his shoulders. Taylor can’t help but swallow down a laugh. Eleanor loves to be dramatic, another thing she’s got from her mother. And this little girl also enjoys her dad’s attention more than anything in this world.

“Look, there’s Flint.” Joe then says, just when the dog came running back. Eleanor quickly lets go of Joe and looks at the dog with an upset face.

“You hurt me when you ran off, Flint.” Eleanor says as dramatic as she can be and Taylor as well as Joe try their hardest to stay serious. 

“I think he’s sorry, isn’t he..” Joe mumbles and pets the confused dog a bit. Eleanor also seems to calm down slowly and runs her hand over the dog’s head a few times.

“It’s okay, Flinty.” she then mumbles and Joe laughs, moves his head to kiss her head once more.

“Come on, let’s keep walking together.” Joe says and Eleanor keeps walking next to her dad, hand in hand. After a few minutes, she lets go off his hand once more and runs off. Taylor just looks at her mini- me and smiles. 

How quickly to forget, as a child. How easy to leave a situation and simply move on.

“Alright, alright. One hot chocolate with caramel and whip cream for miss E.” Joe repeats with a laugh on his face, taking his face mask out of his pockets while letting go off Eleanor’s little hand. 

“What can I get you?” He asks Taylor. It’s slowly getting dark outside and they’ve made it back, are now standing in front of the little Starbucks located in the heart of Hampstead Village. Just three shops are open at the moment, offering hot beverages and meals for take away. He can see in Taylor’s make up free face how cold she is. Her cheeks are red and her hands are buried in her own puff jacket pockets. She certainly needs a drink to warm up as much as he does. 

“Mhm maybe…”

“Skinny Caramel Latte?” 

Taylor looks at him, can’t help but smile. She can’t believe he still knows her so well. 

“Sounds good.” 

Joe laughs, winks at her and disappears inside. Taylor looks after him, waiting outside. It’s hard for her to believe sometimes how he hasn’t changed at all. He still knows every little detail of her by heart, and so does she. But maybe, just maybe, he has changed? Maybe he has been able to change for all the reasons she wanted him to, exactly a year ago. A year ago, when she had a piece of what she once knew. A piece of Joe, something she had to leave behind once more. For her, but even more for Eleanor. 

Taylor slowly crouches down to Eleanor, who stands next to Flint and carefully pets his head. 

“Are you cold?” Taylor asks her quietly, but Eleanor shakes her head. She’s exhausted and tired from all the running around and fresh air she’s had today. Taylor can sense that. After the sugar crash from her hot chocolate, Eleanor will certainly sleep well tonight. A gift for her mother also. 

“That was such a fun day with dad, huh?” Taylor asks with an uplifted voice, and Eleanor nods as well. Something is upsetting her. Taylor can sense this immediately.

Wrapped up in her big jacket and beanie covering her ears, Eleanor just stands there. She’s become so quiet since the last few minutes, just strokes Flint’s head up and down. 

“What’s up, baby?” Taylor says quietly, enjoys being so close to her that nobody can hear her but Eleanor. 

Taylor doesn’t get an answer, just witnesses how the corners of Eleanor’s mouth are slowly drooping. In slight shock, Taylor just takes Eleanor into her arms. The little girl starts crying for a second time today, but this time it’s not because she’s hurt her hand. 

“Baby, what’s.. what’s going on? Why are you sad?” Taylor just asks, a bit worried, her hand immediately in her beanie, comforting the cold little girl in her arms. Eleanor slowly lets go off Taylor’s chest and just stares at her mommy. She immediately wipes away the little tears from Eleanor’s cheeks with her thumbs. 

“I don’t want daddy to go home.” 

Taylor feels a punch in her stomach. She knew it. She could’ve known that this would happen. 

“Honey, daddy is first of all getting you a hot chocolate and then..”

“And then he will go home but I don’t want him to go home.” she gets whiny again, and Taylor doesn’t answer, just kisses the cheeky little face a few times. When Taylor and Joe spent time together over Christmas last year, Eleanor had a similar breakdown. And Taylor knows why. It brings back old memories of mommy and daddy together with her. It brings back memories of dad leaving. Memories of her moving into a different house. A house where daddy isn’t living at anymore. 

“I promise you, we will see daddy in a few days. Okay?” 

Eleanor doesn’t answer, and Taylor feels her heart breaking once more. 

This was never what she wanted. This was never what she wanted that day, when Eleanor was laying on her bare chest, opening her eyes for the first time. This was never part of all the promises she gave to the little girl in her arms. 

Just when Taylor was about to comfort her once more, Joe comes out of the shop again, a little brown craft tray with three cups in his hands. As he takes off his mask, he can see Eleanor’s face and the wet little cheeks coming out of the beanie and warm jacket she’s wearing. He can see Taylor’s look. He can feel it up his spine.

“Hey, love. Your hot chocolate.” He just gently says, crouches down to Eleanor just like Taylor did. Eleanor is not crying anymore, but she seems sad. Joe feels that.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, and Eleanor just falls into another hug with him. Joe almost drops the little paper tray, as Taylor takes it from him within a few seconds, holding Flint’s leash in her other hand as well. Joe just hugs his little daughter back, is obviously confused. 

“Sweetheart..”

“Daddy, can you stay with us tonight..”

“Eleanor!” Taylor interrupts her, as Joe just signals Taylor he’s handling this. 

“Darling, why do you want that?” He whispers into her ear. Eleanor just looks up at him, still whining. 

“Because you always go home after we played with Flint.” She says, Joe knows exactly what she means. 

“That’s cause it’s almost dark, my love.” He says, holding her head in his hands. He slowly kisses her forehead once, and then her lips. 

“How about we go home and have our hot chocolate, and then if it’s fine with mummy we can play in your room a bit longer, huh?” Joe says to comfort Eleanor, already got a comforting nod from Taylor. She just stands there, feels shattered for the hundredth time since they’ve been doing this. It’s certainly not the first time that Eleanor is reacting like this after they’ve spent time together. Taylor knows that she misses him. That Eleanor remembers what it was like when dad didn’t have to “go home” and her sleeping place was right between both of them. It’s rare but these are the moments in which Taylor feels like she failed. Feels like she’s been telling herself and Eleanor a big fat lie. The lie that being separated from Joe, would be the right thing. The lie that Joe is the one who brings uncertainty into her life. A lie that’s been reality for her for so many months on end. 

She can’t and won’t forget that.

Joe slowly gets up, kisses Eleanor’s cold little mouth one more time. 

“Daddy might live somewhere else, but I’m never gone. You can always visit me, and I will always visit you.” 

Eleanor immediately reaches for her hot chocolate that Taylor is giving to her and nods. She seems to be happy with his answer - for now. She nips on the cup one time, her eyes still puffy from her tears. 

“Good?” Joe asks and she nods. 

“Good.” She answers and he laughs quietly. She already has a chocolate mustache in her face. 

Joe can’t dare to look at Taylor’s face again, just takes his coffee from the tray in her hands as they slowly start walking home. For the rest of the walk, Taylor is quiet. A bit too quiet for his taste. He knows how she feels, can feel it through her wool beanie and puff jacket. She feels guilty. She feels guilty for something she shouldn’t feel guilty about. 

Just when the three arrive at the front door of the big house, Taylor takes out the key from her pockets and opens up. Eleanor is busy telling Joe about her friend Rosie’s doll house that she misses playing with and how she wishes that Santa Claus would get her the same. 

Taylor still says nothing. Joe slowly gets in, looks at Taylor who just closes the door. 

“Do you want me to put Flint into…”

“Oh yeah, let me get him some water and we can have him wait downstairs. I think the cats would..”

“Yeah sounds great.” Joe says, and thankfully passes Flint on the leash to Taylor. After all, the cats have never got along well with him and they shouldn’t be risking the animals getting into a fight tonight. 

Joe just watches her immediately walk off with him, takes off his shoes himself.

The steps on the staircase creak louder than he intended, slowly makes his way downstairs. Joe is only wearing black socks, his jeans and long sleeve casually covering his upper body. He slowly glances into the living room, can see the big flat screen tv running, but Taylor is nowhere to be seen. Candles on the coffee tableare lit, the little lamp at the end of the big living room turned on, lighting up the room in the most cozy way. He smiles. Taylor always knew how to make a place a home. As he takes a few more steps into the living room, Joe suddenly realizes that Taylor is passed out on the couch, her back facing him from where he stands. He slowly walks up to the tv, doesn’t want to startle her. He remains silent. Taylor is hugging one of the big orchid colored pillows, sleeps silently. The fresh air today seems to have not just helped Eleanor pass out faster than usual - it has made her tired as well. Joe doesn’t move, just looks at her sleeping. This has always been his weakness. Her most angelic state, asleep, right next to him. Joe slowly moves, places his hand on her arm, trying to wake her up gently. 

“Hey, Tay..”

After a second, Tay wakes up and is startled. She quickly sits up, looks at him confusedly and Joe grins. He knows that look too well. She’s always needed a second to come back to life after being asleep. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…”

“Oh, no no.” she quickly says, scratches her head on the side she’s been laying on. This side of her face has imprinted the pattern of the pillow. Joe smirks, but doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m.. I’m sorry, I just passed out.” 

Joe nods softly. 

“No problem, I just wanted to let you know that Eleanor’s asleep as well. We were playing with her dolls and it took her half an hour to pass out on the carpet. So I just tucked her to bed. Hope that’s alright…” 

“Yeah, perfect. Thank you so much.” she says. 

“Alright, I’m going to get going then.” Joe says. Taylor was about to get up to accompany him to the door as she realizes that they haven’t finished speaking about Christmas. 

“Oh, uhm Joe, can we.. can we quickly speak about Christmas before you leave?” She asks. Joe immediately nods, casually comes around to where she’s sitting and lets himself fall onto the place next to her, right on the big and comfy couch. 

“I almost forgot, you’re right.” 

“I just…” Tay turns down the volume of the tv and looks at him. ��Joe, I just wanted to say that… that first of all…”

He can see that she’s thought this through, watches her play with her hands in nervousness while speaking. He knows her too well for her to hide anything. He knows every gesture, every look, every single detail of her body language. She is nervous. She is looking for the right way to say whatever she needs to say. 

“First of all, I appreciate your kindness. So much. In.. in you thinking of me and wanting to invite me for Christmas, but..”

“But?”

“But I really thought about this earlier, and I came to the decision that I want you and Eleanor to celebrate together with your family like you did last year. I really am fine being home with the cats. I’m going to FaceTime my family, watch a movie and go to bed. I think this year the circumstances are even weirder than last year, so I would really prefer to lay low and…”

“May I.. may I say something?” 

Taylor looks at him a bit confused, is not used to him interrupting her in this way. 

“Uhm, sure.” 

“I spoke to my family about this a lot. About how weird things have been between my parents and you. I mean.. you haven’t seen them since Christmas last year and we both know how weird the circumstances were.” He says, referring to the last Christmas. The last time they’ve seen each other. Back when she and Joe were repeating old patterns, making old mistakes. Back then, when she begged him so much to change. Begged him to undo the past years. 

Taylor looks at him in shock, thinking about the fact that his family has been speaking about her. She has no idea where this is going, but she surely knows that her hands are getting sweatier the second they speak.

“And… Tay, I…” he stops again, looks at the insides of his hands. She’s barely experienced Joe like this. The only time he’s searched for words was when he asked her to marry him, years ago, years before Eleanor was in the picture and she turned him down. Bits and pieces of their history coming up in her while he sits there, as handsome as always, speaking to her. 

“I know a lot happened between us, but.. this year, more than ever, I realized that you and me we will always be family. You.. you’re Eleanor’s mum. You’re my daughter’s mother. And I want us to achieve what we didn’t manage to achieve last year. Being friends. Being family. I just.. I wish we could be fine again.”

Taylor feels goosebumps coming up, immediately nods. She relates to what he says. They will forever be connected. They will forever have to see each other. And things certainly would be easier, if they were cool with each other and she wouldn’t have to go into hiding whenever he comes to pick up his daughter. 

“I know, Joe. Me too, really.” 

“And actually, it was my mum’s idea. She.. she asked me to speak to you. And to ask if you want to come over on Christmas Eve. As I said, we will all get tested tomorrow so we can make sure everyone’s safe. I think it would mean a lot to my family to reconnect and.. especially to me.”

Taylor looks at him, and for the first time in a while, she honestly smiles. There’s no hesitation, no hiding, no underlying thought - she wanted exactly that. Even last year, she wanted nothing more than for them to be fine again, especially with his family. Eleanor’s family. And therefore, her family. 

“I want to reconnect too.” She then adds, sees in Joe’s face how relieved he seems to be. He smirks the same smirk she knows too well, his blue eyes shining, shyly looks down to hide the fact that he’s indeed smiling widely. She feels a bit drunk, looking at his smile, at his shy way of sitting there again. The way he always did.

“And I.. I’m sorry, Joe.” her mouth suddenly moves. He looks up at her. “I’m sorry for.. for sleeping with you and then disappearing.” she says, can see in his face that he didn’t expect her to go there. And neither did Taylor. She nervously changes her seating position on the couch, moves her leg up under her bum, pulls the sleeves of her onesie over her knuckles, while looking into his face. 

“It was wrong, I played with fire.. I think we both played with fire. But it wasn’t right of me to just disappear. I know I kept saying, I want you to change, I want you to be more grown up, more responsible, but… right now, it seems like you’re more responsible and more grown up than me.” she says softly, shrugs with her shoulders and looks into his face with every ounce of honesty. Joe doesn’t move, he nods. He’s thankful. He’s never been more thankful for anything she’s ever said to him. 

“I have changed this last year, yeah.” he then adds. She looks at him, the flicker of the tv in the darkness reflecting onto his face. It’s only 8pm, yet it’s fully dark outside. A classy, depressing English winter evening. But Taylor doesn’t feel depressed anymore. Taylor sits here, and feels how warm and tingly everything in her is getting. The kind of warmth you would expect when something finally happens that you’ve been praying for a long time. She knew he had changed. She knew it every Wednesday, and every Sunday when he stood in the door, picking up Eleanor to spend time with him. She knew every time the phone rang, and Eleanor would excitedly tell him about her day for at least half an hour. Every time Eleanor would come home, happily fall into her arms, telling her about her adventures with her dad. 

“I know you have.” she quietly says, a smile on her face. Joe looks up again, the mood as warm and familiar as ever. He doesn’t say anything, simply reaches for her hand. And Taylor remains quiet too, just lets him hold hers. It’s been a year. It’s been ages. It’s been a lifetime of Taylor and Joe, yet it feels like only a second since he last did this. Simply hold her hand. Just sit there, being there. 

Actually being there. 

“I should.. I should get going.” he then says, lets go off her. She just nods, gets up together with him. She can feel that he’s been overwhelmed. And so was she. Joe slowly walks into the hallway, and Taylor tuns on the little light, right on the side board. 

“So, you.. you can get tested too if you want. Dinner’s at 6 o’clock. My mum told me to ask if you want to stay over…”

Taylor leans in the door frame, watches him put his winter boots back on. She smiles. Nothing compares to the warmth she feels at the thought of Elizabeth wanting her there. Her second mother. That’s how close they used to be years ago. 

“That’s incredibly sweet but, I think I will just go home after dinner. Eleanor can sleep with you. I can come back in the morning for presents.” 

Joe nods, accepts her decision fully. 

“Should I.. should I bring something for dinner? I can make dessert, or..”

“No, just bring some Eleanor.” Joe jokes, Taylor laugh quietly. He can see in her eyes, what a massive relief there is. She seems so light, lighter than he’s witnessed her in years. Nothing ever made her more beautiful to him, than her most honest smile. 

“Okay, will do that.” 

Joe gets up, opens the big door himself. 

“Alright then.” She says. Joe smiles one more time. He laughs. And so does Taylor. Things certainly are a bit awkward still. 

“Come here.” he then casually mumbles and pulls her into a tight hug. Taylor doesn’t say anything, lets him hug her tight. She closes her eyes, both her hands hugging him back. She doesn’t want this hug to end. It feels better than last year. It feels more real. honest. raw. They’ve come quite a long way. 

“Thank you so much.” she mumbles once more, and Joe ends the hug, smiling at her once more. 

“You too.” He whispers, then slowly lets go off her and leaves the house. Taylor just stands in the doorway and watches him walk off. She waves one last time, only until he’s left the road her house is on and then closes the door. 

She looks into the big mirror one last time, fixes her messed up bangs and makes sure her long sleeve cotton dress covers everything it needs to cover. The past two days have been interesting. She’s been telling her friends about this afternoon with Joe. About their holding hands, their hug, his invitation for her to join their family Christmas again. Taylor couldn’t be more thankful yet she knows that she needs to take it slow. That if they’re really onto something real and good, then this time, they need to take it extra slow. 

Taylor turns around again, then perfects her red lipstick. Even though she wants ‘extra slow’, she can still look fabulous tonight.

“Honey? We need to leave.” Taylor yells upstairs, hears Eleanor answering her from the bathroom. Taylor quickly puts on her black coat, grabs her tiny handbag and walks upstairs. Just when she enters her daughter’s room is when she has to laugh. There’s tiny bits of paper everywhere, it seems that Eleanor’s self made presents have certainly taken up a lot of paper and created quite a mess in this room. But Taylor can’t be strict today. She knows how excited Eleanor is for today. And so is she.

“Ready?” Taylor asks, looks at her baby girl collecting her favorite toys for her tiny backpack that she wants to bring for her sleepover at grandma’s house.

“Yes, mommy. Look, all my presents are in here.” she says, shows her mum the little paper bag she has designed herself with all the kitten stickers on top of it. Taylor laughs, bends down to kiss Eleanor’s hair. 

“Come on, put your shoes and jacket on. Brandon is outside waiting for us.” she says and Eleanor storms downstairs. A few minutes later, Taylor fixes the mask on her face before getting into the big black car where Brandon is sitting. Right next to Eleanor, Taylor feels her stomach churning. She feels as nervous as back then when she would meet his family for the first time. In a way, it feels exactly like that. It’s meeting them again since a very long time. A very long time with absolutely no contact. Filled with fears and guilt and anger.

But not tonight.

After less than fifteen minutes, the big black car stops right in front of the little brick stone house right at Budwick’s Lane. Eleanor gets out of the car, her little backpack on, as happy as ever. Taylor closes the car’s door, carries the pink bag with Eleanor’s toiletries and clothes, waving Brandon goodbye. 

While Eleanor is already running up to the doors entry, Taylor feels how nauseous she suddenly gets. Standing there for a minute, she just takes a good look at the old brick stone a house, covered in ivy. The light shining out from the little hatch, right above the guest bathroom window. This house was once her first home away from home, in this country. So many memories that she feels all at once. Good and bad ones. Taylor suddenly wonders, if this was really Elizabeth’s idea? After all, she will never be able to forget Elizabeth’s angry stare a year ago at Eleanor’s theatre performance at pre- school. 

Without Taylor being able to take a last deep breath, the old door opens and Richard stands there, Eleanor immediately jumping onto his arms. He hasn’t changed. He’s still Joe’s dad.

“Grandpa!” Eleanor yells, seems just as happy as Richard to see her. 

“My little monkey.” he smiles, kisses the five year old on her head. Taylor just stands there, swallowing once. 

“Merry Christmas.” she just says, slowly follows her daughter who’s been running off into the living room already. Richard just stands there and smiles, then does something she never expected. Within a few seconds, he just signals her to come in and pulls her into a warm hug. Just like he did back then. 

“Merry Christmas, Taylor.” he says, then slowly let’s go. “You look fantastic, have you been well this year?” Taylor is certainly a bit overwhelmed by the hug, nods immediately as Richard helps her take off her jacket. 

“I’m great! How are you?” she asks, just looks around and feels the greatest sensation of ‘home’ she could ever imagine. The old fireplace in the living room is lit, she can see that from the hallway. Laughter and Joe’s voice is coming from kitchen. The smell of Elizabeth’s Christmas pie. Nothing has changed. 

“Oh thanks, we’re good as always. Come in, I think Elizabeth..” Taylor walks in, when just in that moment, Elizabeth stands right in front of her. This is the moment she’s been dreading the most. 

“Merry Christmas!” Taylor just stutters, feels an immense amount of relief when Elizabeth smiles warmly. The sixty year old woman hasn’t changed the slightest. Her brown hair hanging down her shoulders. She quickly places the kitchen towel on the counter and walks towards Taylor.

“We’re very happy you two are joining us.” Elizabeth says, then hugs Taylor as well. But this time, the hug is slower. More honest. Taylor closes her eyes, feels how emotional she’s getting. This place, these arms, used to be family. No matter what is and no matter what has been, she couldn’t be more thankful for this peace offer from her side. As Taylor slowly let’s go, Elizabeth smiles at her warmly.

“I missed you.” she says quietly. Taylor nods immediately. 

“I missed you too.”

Just when Taylor was about to say something else, Eleanor starts to pull on Taylor’s dress.

“Mummy, mummy look! Santa Claus already left me one present under the tree for tonight.” she yells excitedly. Taylor as well as everyone else in near proximity laughs quietly at the young girl’s excitement. Just when Taylor was about to crouch down to tell Eleanor how happy she is for her, is the moment when Joe suddenly stops in front of her, pulls Taylor into another hug. 

But this one is making her knees go weaker than the ones before.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” he whispers, and Taylor closes her eyes. If only he knew how happy she is to be here. 

After a few seconds, Joe slowly lets go and looks at her smiley face. Her cheeks are red and she seems flushed. He knew it would mean the world to her to finally leave behind the conflict she had with his family. 

“I’m glad to be here too.” she smiles at him, as Joe slowly takes her hand and walks into the living room with her. Right next to the big Christmas tree that is lit up with dozens of little lights, Taylor can see Patrick and Tom stand there with Nicole and two other people. A bit confused, Taylor just lets him take her by the hand. 

“I’m so happy that you get to finally meet Naomi.” he then says, comes to a full stop with Taylor right in front of the brunette woman. With long brown hair and the most stunning smile, Naomi gives Taylor the hand and smiles warmly. 

“Taylor, so nice to finally meet you.” she says and Taylor feels like someone just ripped out her stomach and put it back in again. With shaky hands, Taylor forces herself to smile back at the woman, looks more than confused at Joe. He seems so nervous, carefully places his hand on Naomi’s back, his gentle eyes looking at the brunette girl, ensuring she’s doing fine. Taylor feels like fainting, uses all the power within her to remain standing. Right here, in this living room, where she was once the one meeting family. Right here, where she was once the one being looked after by his kind eyes. The living room in which their daughter celebrated almost every Christmas so far. 

“Nice to meet you too.” Taylor then brings out, is more than proud of herself for having been able to say these few words.

Shocked but more than angry at herself, Taylor looks at Naomi and back at Joe. How stupid she was, to think that his peace offer was for more than them reconnecting. He wanted to them to be civil. He wanted to finally close the chapter Taylor. 

How stupid she was.

Taylor immediately looks at Eleanor, who pulls once more on her dress. Taylor never thought she could be so happy to be interrupted by her daughter, but she is. She is thankful for every second, in which she doesn’t have to face Naomi or Joe or worse - them both together.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I was so nervous to meet you, so... wow I’m really embarrassing right now.” Naomi says to Taylor, who’s now looking up at her again. Taylor swallows, fakes her nicest smile. And she’s doing quite well so far. She’s doing well, up until she sees Joe’s soft laugh, and his hand that is right on her back again, stroking her up and down. 

“Tay, hey.” a young man suddenly says, and Taylor turns around. She sees Patrick standing in front of her, who hugs her immediately. He’s taller than she remembered and it’s still hard for her to comprehend that he’s no longer the shy fourteen year old she once knew, but instead a twenty- two year old university graduate. For the first time tonight, she honestly feels happy to shake someone else’s hand. Someone she hasn’t met before.

“This is Jess, my girlfriend.” 

Taylor smiles at the blonde girl and then at Patrick.

“So nice to meet you!” she quickly says, then looks at Patrick again.

“Joe said you two moved in together?” Taylor asks, and Patrick nods. Taylor smiles warmly. She’s more than happy for Patrick. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Tay.” Patrick says, and as always, she can still feel the truth in his words. Ever since back then, when she and Joe picked him up from his field trip, and that one evening in her rental house when she and Patrick had pizza and spoke about his heart break - ever since then, Patrick and her had a great bond. It’s not just Joe, who she lost. She also lost Patrick, his parents, this home. 

A life. 

Taylor can feel Joe’s glance. She can feel how he constantly looks back at her, reassuring himself she’s doing fine after meeting Naomi. And Taylor immediately feels her acting skills come up. She wants him to think she’s fine. She wants him to think that she’s untouchable, healthy, happy. That she’s moved on like him. That she didn’t spend the last hours recalling every moment of Monday afternoon.  

Not at all.  

To Be Continued.

[arcticdementor]

“Hey bro! Check out this Nike ad!” This was my entry point into a new world.

…

Since Carlos had lived mostly outside the United States, he was able to follow soccer on a level I’d never encountered in my hometown. Back then, before social media and the advent of scarf-wearing Northwestern fútbol hipsters, big-time European soccer was like the metric system: Known to almost all but ourselves. But Carlos knew, and immediately used LimeWire to curate me a massive archive of 1990s through early 2000s soccer highlights. What was I doing in the world without them?

Oddly enough, in trying to inculcate me in soccer fandom, he started not with game highlights, but with the advertisements. Yes, Carlos was an educator and a voluntary footsoldier for Big Apparel. Going in, I had no clue about high-quality, internationally popular Nike soccer ads. The ads, written by the legendary Wieden+Kennedy firm, were miniature movies, films that were often creatively daring but also quite funny. The most popular of these ads might be “Good vs. Evil,” from 1996, where Nike’s best soccer players team up to play Satan’s literal army. The blending of sacrilege, theology and comedy just worked, like a more ambitious version of Space Jam that somehow took itself less seriously than Space Jam.

…

Yes, I know ads aren’t supposed to be high art. I understand that they are the purest distillation of manipulative greed. And yet, they sometimes are culturally relevant generational touchstones. While Nike was weaving soccer into enduring pop culture abroad, it was having a similar kind of success with basketball and baseball stateside. These ads weren’t just pure ephemera. Michael Jordan’s commercials were so good that, as he nears age 60, his sneaker still outsells any modern athlete’s. “Chicks dig the long ball” is a phrase (a) that can get you sent to the modern HR department and b) whose origins are fondly remembered by most American men over the age of 35.

Modern Nike ads will never be so remembered. It’s not because we’re so inundated with information these days, though we are. And it’s not because today’s overexposed athletes lack the mystique of the 1990s superstars, though they do. It’s because the modern Nike ads are beyond fucking terrible.

…

They’re bad for many causes, but one in particular is an incongruity at the company’s heart. Nike, like so many major institutions, is suffering from what I’ll call Existence Dissonance. It’s happening in a particular way, for a particular reason and the result is that what Nike is happens to be at cross-purposes from what Nike aspires to be.

…

For all the talk of a racial reckoning within major industries, Nike’s main problem is this: It’s a company built on masculinity, most specifically Michael Jordan’s alpha dog brand of it. Now, due to its own ambitions, scandals, and intellectual trends, Nike finds masculinity problematic enough to loudly reject.

This rejection is part of the broader culture war, but it’s accelerating due to an arcane quirk in the apparel giant’s strange restructuring plan, announced in June. Under the leadership of new CEO John Donahoe, Nike is moving away from its classic discrete sports categories (Nike Basketball, Nike Soccer, etc.) in favor of a system where all products are shoveled into one of three divisions: men’s, women’s and kids’. Obviously Nike made clothing tailored to the specificities of all these groups before, but now, Nike is emphasizing gender over sport. Gone is the model of the product appealing to basketball fans because they are basketball fans. It’s now replaced by a model of, say, the product appealing to women because they are women.

And hey, women buy sneakers too. Actually, women buy the lion’s share of clothing in the United States. While women shoppers are market dominant in nearly every aspect of American apparel, the clothing multinational named after a Greek goddess happens to be a major exception. At Nike, according to its own records, men account for roughly twice as much revenue as women do.

You might see that stat and think, “Well, this means that Nike will prioritize men over women in its new, odd, gendered segmentation of the company.” That’s not necessarily how this all works, thanks to a phenomenon I’ll call Undecided Whale. The idea is that a company, as its aims grow more expansive, starts catering less to the locked-in core customer and more to a potential whale which demonstrates some interest. Sure, you can just keep doing what’s made you rich, but how can you even focus on your primary business with that whale out there, swimming so tantalizingly close? The whale, should you bring it in, has the potential to enrich you far more than your core customers ever did. And yeah yeah yeah, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, but those were birds. This is a damned whale! And so you start forgetting about your base.

You can see this dynamic in other places. For the NBA, China is its Undecided Whale. It could be argued that the NBA fixates more on China than on America, even if the vast majority of TV money comes from U.S. viewership. The league figures it has more or less hit its ceiling in its home country, so China becomes an obsession as this massive, theoretical growth engine.

…

Here’s the main issue for Nike in this endeavor: The company, as a raison d’être, promotes athletic excellence. While women are among Nike’s major sports stars, the core of high-level performance, in the overwhelming majority of sports, is male. Every sane person knows that, though nobody in professional class life seems rude enough to say so. Obviously, there’s the observable reality of who tends to set records and there’s also the pervasive understanding that testosterone, the main male sex hormone, happens to give unfair advantages to the athletes who inject it.

Speaking of which, there’s a famous This American Life episode from 2002 where the public radio journos actually test their own testosterone levels. The big joke of the episode is just how comically low their T levels are. Sure, you would stereotype bookish public radio men in this way, and yet the results are on the nose enough to shock.

As a nerdy media-weakling type, I can relate to the stunning realization that you’ve been largely living apart from T. Before working in the NBA setting, I was an intern in the cubicles of Salon.com’s San Francisco office, around the time it was shifting from respectable online magazine into inane outrage content mill. Going from that setting to the NBA locker room was some jarring whiplash, like leaving the faculty lounge for a pirate ship. To quote Charles Barkley on the latter culture, “The locker room is sexist, racist, and homophobic … and it’s fun and I miss it.”

…

The “Good vs. Evil” ad boasts a “Like” to “Dislike” ratio of 20-to-1 on YouTube. On June 17th of 2021, Nike put out an ad ahead of the Euro Cup that referenced “Good vs. Evil” as briefly as it could. In this case, a little child popped his collar and used Cantona’s catchphrase. As of this writing, the new ad has earned a thousand more punches of the Dislike than of the Like button.

When you see it, it’s no surprise that the latest Euro Cup ad is disliked. I mean, you have to look at this shit. I know we’re so numb to the ever-escalating emanations of radical chic from our largest corporations, but sometimes it’s worth pausing just to take stock and gawk.

…

But today we are in the land of new football, where we take dictatorial direction from less-than-athletic minors. After her announcement, we are treated to a montage of different people who offer tolerance bromides.

“There are no borders here!”

“Here, you can be whoever you want. Be with whoever you want.”

(Two men kiss following that line, because subtlety isn’t part of this new world order.)

Then, a woman who appears to be breastfeeding under a soccer shirt, threatens, in French, “And if you disagree …”

And this is when the little boy gives us Cantona’s “au revoir” line before kicking a ball out of a soccer stadium, presumably because that’s what happens to the ignorant soccer hooligan. He gets kicked out for raging against gay men kissing or French ladies breastfeeding or somesuch. Later, a referee wearing a hijab instructs us, “Leave the hate,” before narrator girl explains, “You might as well join us because no one can stop us.”

Is that last line supposed to be … inspiring? That’s what a movie villain says, like if Bane took the form of Stan Marsh’s sister. Speaking of which, was this ad actually written by the creators of South Park as an elaborate prank? It’s certainly more convincing as an aggressive parody of liberals than as a sales pitch. Why, in anything other than a comedic setup, is a woman breastfeeding in a big-budget Euro Cup ad?

It’s tempting to fall into the pro-vanguardism template the boomers have handed down to us and sheepishly say, “I must be getting old, because this seems weird to me,” but let’s get real. You dislike this ad because it sucks. You are having a natural, human response to shitty art. This a hollow sermon from a priest whose sins were in the papers. Nobody is impressed by what Nike’s doing here. Nobody thinks Nike, a multinational famous for its sweatshops, is ushering us into an enlightened utopia. Sure, most media types are afraid to criticize the ad publicly. You might inspire suspicion that what you’re secretly against is men kissing and women breastfeeding, but nobody actually likes the stupid ad. No college kid would show it to a new friend he’s trying to impress, and it’s hard to envision a massive cohort of Gen Z women giving a shit about this ad either.

Now juxtapose that ad not just against the classics of the 1990s but also the 2000s products that preceded the Great Awokening. Compare it to another Nike Euro Cup advertisement, Guy Ritchie’s “Take It to the Next Level.”

…

Here’s the problem, insofar as problems are pretended into existence by our media class: The ad is very, very male. Really, what we are watching here is a boyhood fantasy. Our protagonist gets called up to the big show, and next thing you know he’s cavorting with multiple ladies, and autographing titties to the chagrin of his date. He can be seen buying a luxury sports car and arriving at his childhood home in it as his father beams with pride. Training sessions show him either puking from exhaustion or playing grab-ass with his fellow soccer bros. This is jock life, distilled. Art works when it’s true and it’s true that this is a vivid depiction of a common fantasy realized.

Nike’s highly successful “Write the Future” ad (16,000 Likes, 257 Dislikes) works along similar themes.

…

The recent Olympic ads were especially heavy on cringe radical chic, and might have stood out less in this respect if the athletes themselves mirrored that tone on the big stage. Not so much in these Olympics. It seems as though Nike made the commercials in preparation for an explosion of telegenic activism, only to see American athletes mostly, quietly accept their medals, chomp down on the gold, and praise God or country. Perhaps you could consider Simone Biles bowing out of events due to mental health as a form of activism, but overall, the athletes basically behaved in the manner they would have back in 1996.

But Nike forged onwards anyway. This ad in celebration of the U.S. women’s basketball team made some waves, getting ripped in conservative media as the latest offense by woke capital.

…

“Today I have a presentation on dynasties,” a pink-haired teenage girl tells us. “But I refuse to talk about the ancient history and drama. That’s just the patriarchy. Instead, I’m going to talk about a dynasty that I actually look up to. An all-women dynasty. Women of color. Gay women. Women who fight for social justice. Women with a jump shot. A dynasty that makes your favorite men’s basketball, football, and baseball teams look like amateurs.”

When she says, “That’s just the patriarchy,” the camera pans to a bust of (I think) Julius Caesar. At another point, the girl says, “A dynasty that makes Alexander the Great look like Alexander the Okay.” Fuck you, Classical Antiquity. Fuck you, fans of teams. You’re all just the patriarchy. Or something.

Nike could easily sell the successful American women’s basketball team without denigrating other teams, genders and ancient Mediterranean empires that have nothing to do with this. Could but won’t. The company now conveys an almost visceral need for women to triumph over men because … well, nobody really explains why, even if it has something to do with Undecided Whaling. In Nike’s tentpole Olympics ad titled “Best Day Ever,” the narrator fantasizes about the future, declaring, “The WNBA will surpass the NBA in popularity!” ​

…

There are theories on the emergence of woke capital, with many having observed that, following Occupy Wall Street, media institutions ramped up on census category grievance. The thinking goes that, in response to the threat of a real economic revolution, the power players in our society pushed identity politics to undermine group solidarity. Well, that was a fiendishly brilliant plan, if anyone actually hatched it.

I’m not so convinced, though, as I’m more inclined to believe that a lot of history happens by happenstance. If we’re to specifically analyze the Nike Awokening, there is a recent top-down element of a mandate for Undecided Whaling, but that mandate was preceded by a socially conscious middle class campaign within the company.

This isn’t unique to Nike, either. Given my past life covering the team that tech moguls root for, I’ve run into such people. They aren’t, by and large, ideological. Very few are messianically devoted to seeing the world through the intersectionality lens. They are, however, terrified of their employees who feel this way. The mid-tier labor force, this cohort who actually internalized their university teachings, are full of fervor and willing to risk burned bridges in favor of causes they deem righteous. The big bosses just don’t want a headline-making walkout on their hands, so they placate and mollify, eventually bending the company’s voice into language of righteousness.

…

All the guilt and atonement transference make for bad art. And so the ads suck. There’s no Machiavellian conspiracy behind the production. It’s just a combination of desperately wanting female market share and desperately wanting to move on from the publicized sins of a masculine past. So, to message its ambitions, the exhausted corporation leans on the employees with the loudest answers.

There’s a lot of interplay between Nike and Wieden+Kennedy when the former asks the latter for a type of ad, but the through line from both sides is a lot of cooks in the kitchen. Based on conversations with people who’ve worked in both environments, there’s a dearth of personnel who are deeply connected to sports. In place of a grounding in a subculture, you’re getting ideas from folks who went to nice colleges and trendy ad schools, the type of people who throw words like “patriarchy” at the screen to celebrate a gold medal victory. The older leaders, uneasy in their station and thus obsessed with looking cutting edge, lean on the younger types because the youth are confident. Unfortunately, that confidence is rooted in an ability to regurgitate liturgy, rather than generative genius. They’ve a mandate to replace a marred past, which they leap at, but they’re incapable of inventing a better future.

…

Ironically, Nike mattered a lot more in the days when its position was less dominant. Back when it had to really fight for market share, it made bold, genre-altering art. The ads were synonymous with masculine victory, plus they were cheekily irreverent. And so the dudes loved them. Today, Nike is something else. It LARPs as a grandiose feminist nonprofit as it floats aimlessly on the vessel Michael Jordan built long ago. Like Jordan himself, Nike is rich forever off what it can replicate never. Unlike Jordan, it now wishes to be known for anything but its triumphs. Nike once told a story and that story resonated with its audience. Now it’s decided that its audience is the problem. It wouldn’t shock you to learn that Carlos hated the new Nike ads I texted to him. His exact words were, “I don’t want fucking activism from a sweatshop monopoly.” He’ll still buy the gear, though, just not the narrative. Nike remains, but the story about itself has run out. Au revoir. 

[hs-devote]

1. I N E F F A B L E

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

1. INEFFABLE

Erskine Limited. A well known multinational company in U.K. Is a home for 20,000 employees across the country. One of the prestigious companies.

This head quarter looks more extravagant than the branches. Of course.

Never in her wildest dreams she thought would be sitting here. Greyish, sleek and shine furniture. Looking around, everything look sophisticated, professional.. while daydreaming about how come this opportunity was offered to her. Until a smooth yet firm voice calling her up close.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

Turning her head, a woman smiled at her, offering warm gesture. She's tall, her short black hair look nice against her delicate brown skin.

“Yes, I am.” Smiling, Y/N shake the woman’s hand.

“Sanaa Martinez.”

“Y/N YL/N”.  

Now, sitting face to face with her made her nervousness increase. Well, sitting in front of your new boss surely makes your worries skyrocketed. But, looking how she welcomed her, she's positive this would be good.

“Firstly, apologies for coming late. Having small problem back at meeting and.. your boss ask me to meet you before we met him.”

Hold on, this gorgeous woman will not be her new boss? If Y/N remember correctly, Mr. Adams said she would meet the new boss directly.

“Oh, I suppose he would be so busy.”

“Yeah.. yeah, perks of being the man who hold the highest level .”

“Pardon?” Y/N could not hid her shocked face, until something she think inappropriate in this situation came out of her mouth, “I’m sorry. I have no idea, I will working with the....”

“The CEO? Yes. The Owner? Can be. The man is in both position. I believe Mr. Adams did not tell you that?”

“No, ma’am.”

She sighed while massaging her temples, “Poor girl. I think he a bit bitter of you moving here. But this is your good chance.”

“Honestly, I was quite surprised when the offering letter came. Did not think I have a chance here. I mean, I work in a small branch office in Swansea. Now, I’m here, in the head quarter, in London.” Y/N smile, keeping the eye contact while deep down in her heart, she tried to calm herself. How the fuck it could be? She never dreamt being work together with board of director, let alone the CEO, the Owner themselves.

She laughed, “Non sense. If your performance can offer something more, why not?”

“I guess?” Y/N mumbled, giving her shy smile.

“Well, I have your resume here. But, tell me about yourself.”

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Day one went smooth.

Day two went alright.

Day three, four.. until a week being here in her new office, everything went perfect. Y/N got a week training before starting her task as Executive Assistant to the owner this company. Mrs. Davies, or Rita, the lady in her mid forties who was her tutor for the this past week, patiently taught her about everything will be done as a EA.

“I must admit.. that you are indeed deserve this job. I’m amazed how you could cope with these, Y/N” She said in her desk, while screening Y/N tasks in her screen. “Never thought  a young lady will filling the EA position. I’m impressed.”

She grinned, “Thank you, Rita. It’s all because of you could guide me well.”

“Not really. You learnt quickly and I think.. pretty little head of yours can memories everything perfectly fine.” She hummed, “I am still responsible for you until next month. So if there are complaints coming, of course I will see you again.”

“And oh, Madeleine just told me Mr. Styles is in his office right now. I think it’s good for me to introduce you to him before you move to your office in Monday.”

“Madeleine?”

“His receptionist? Well, you will work with her too. Let’s go, Y/N. Your new office is quite far from here.”

Walking to her office was quite far because it was on a different level building, they separate the BOD’s building and general employee’s. Y/N eyes gawking around, admiring how people seem more professional doing their works.

“One thing I haven’t said.. be patient with Mr. Styles, he’s kinda having short temper.”

When the lift door opened, Y/N see a woman sitting behind her large desk. She must be Madeleine.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Davies.” She squeak, standing confidently. The moment her eyes move towards Y/N, she could see clearly her smile falter slowly. Weird.

“Hello Mads, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Madeleine.”

“Nice to meet you, Madeleine.” Y/N smile while offering a hand, think shaking hands is normal and professional, apparently not for Madeleine. She just nodded while giving they both access card, “I’ll let Mr. Styles know you guys are here.” Y/N take it awkwardly.

“An access card?” Y/N mumble, glancing at Madeleine was on the phone.

“Everyone require an access card to the his office. I’m sure Madeleine will prepare one for you.”

“He’s ready. Waiting on his office. He just has 30 minutes tops. ”

“Thank you Mads.”

“Rita?” Y/N murmured, while looking at her surrounding.

“Yes?”

“Why Mr. Styles needs an assistant while he has a receptionist? Madeleine looks capable being an assistant too.”

“Well, actually Mads was once tested by us, but the results were not satisfactory. Everyone wanted to apply this job but.. you come with outstanding results. So, congratulations.”

They stopped in front of solid door that engraved Harry E. Styles in gold letter, Rita scanned her card until the door opened revealing a man focused on his Macbook. His gaze turned to Y/N for a moment.

Shit.

The first thing caught her off guards was the green eyes, and the cheekbones. Sharp jawlines followed, with pinkish thin lips.

“Mr. Styles? I'm here with your new EA.” Rita said, introducing her to him.

“Have a seat, Rita. Don't standing on the door.” He smiled. For a second, Y/N was cursing at her ignorance for not asking her boss profile, so seeing a man look younger than she think, doesn't shock her at all. He must be no more than twenty-seven years old, quite a young man he is – she think.

“This is your new EA, she is from Swansea office. She will ready in Monday.”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Harry Styles.” He gave Y/N small smile, offering his hand.

“My name's Y/N Y/L/N.  Thank you for the opportunity. Glad to be part of head office.” Shaking his hand, Y/N could feel his firm grip yet skin was very soft. She glanced at small amount of glitter on his nails, was he wearing nail polish?

“My pleasure.”

“Well, that's it. We do not want to interrupt anymore. And oh, Harry. Please do not be hard on this one. God knows how hard to find a competent EA.” Rita teased while pat Y/N shoulder. Mr. Styles, or Harry, just laughed while escort they both to the door.

“I never know Mr. Styles is that young.” Y/ N muttered, letting the lift door closed, ready taking them to the ground floor.

“I think you know, no?” Rita frowned. Y/N sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, maybe I just forgot that part. He is young, just turning twenty-five last February. Running this company after his father death three years ago. But young Harry has been helping the company since he was in college. That's great because not many children are successful in continuing a family legacy.”

“He's great business person too, but like I told you before. He's temperamental. If you get his wrong side, he won't afraid barking at you in front of people. And that's not a sight to see.” She added.

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Monday coming. Y/N woke up at 6 in the morning, like usual. When she was still in Swansea, she could wake up at 7 because her home just 10 minutes away from office by bus. Here in London, Y/N needs at least 30 minutes to arrive on time.

Arriving the North Tower, which office level that Y/N wil working in. Madeleine was nowhere to see when Y/N stepped on her floor. She had no idea where is her desk. Seems like Mr. Styles haven't arrive yet. It's only 8.30 am, no wonder the office is still empty. The cleaning lady still doing her work. She has 30 minutes left until work hours begin. Suddenly, Y/N's phone buzzed. A message from unknown number.

Y/N, it's Madeleine. If you arrive earlier than me, your office is next to Mr. Styles'. It doesn't need access card, except if Mr. Styles ask for it.

After replying a thank you to her, Y/N walked to Mr. Styles' office. Noticing a door next to his, that must be hers. Her office was pretty spacious, Y/N has her own desk, shelves. Quite surprisingly to find an iPad next to the iMac. Smiling happily, she turned on the iMac, running the email first.

1 new message from hstyles@erskine.co.uk

From: Styles, Harry <hstyles@erskine.co.uk>

Subject : Introduction To: executive_asst@erskine.co.uk

Y/N

Good luck on your first day. Your office, your desk, everything has been fullfiled for your needs. If you are wondering, you will often join me in meetings. I think the iPad will be more efficient than you try to bring the iMac. - I'm joking. I will send your next tasks separately.

HS.

Giggling, Y/N reads the message one more time until realise that was sent at 8.00 am. He arrived earlier than her, didn't he?

While retrieving another message to come, Y/N bring her tumbler to the break room, hoping to find coffee or tea at least. Madeleine just arrived at her desk in hurry, while her hand quickly opened her Mac.

“Morning Madeleine?”

Her head shot up, “Hi. Have you set your finger print yet?”

“Yeah, already set.” Y/N nodded, “Want something? Maybe I'll find tea or coffee in break room.”

“No no thanks.”

“Right.” Y/N mumbles, walking away.

The break room was huge. Y/N could find anything. Professional coffee machine, huge fridge, wine cellar, anything.. you named it. It was more to say the kitchen of a professional chef. Y/N decided to make espresso because she sure need caffeine to work first day with Mr. Styles.

“Jesus Christ!”

Turning around, Y/N was absolutely shocked to find Mr. Styles standing behind her the whole time, only few centimeters away. His eyes looking sharp, his green irises darker than usual. His aura was different, a bit sinister than Y/N first met him the other day.

“Mr. Styles?” She spoke quietly, gripping her tumbler tightly. But he didn't budge. He was so intimidating. “Do you want something, Sir? I can bring it to your office?”

He suddenly closed his eyes, shaking his head once. Now, his irises looks like back to normal, light green. But the greenest she ever seen.

“I'm sorry. Uhm, I didn't sleep much last night. Think need a coffee, yeah.” He mumbled.

“Need me to bring it to you?”

“No, but thanks.”

“Alright. Excuse me, sir.” Y/N smiles, leaving him alone. It was undeniable she feel a little bit strange with his behaviour. Leaving her desk for a while, there was already about twenty incoming emails with almost all of them have attachments. None other than Mr. Styles was the sender.

The clock ticking at 2.00 pm when Y/N look at her phone, didn't realise time passed quickly. Until someone knocked her door. Madeleine bring a small box in her hands.

“This is your stationery and and your personal business cards.”

“Thank you Madeleine.” Nodding, She take it and put it on the desk. She hummed, turning her heels towards the door. Y/N grab her paperwork, ready to dial Mr. Styles' extension but her office phone rings first.

Incoming call: 621 – Harry Styles

Speaking of the devil. It was Mr. Styles himself.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Styles?”

“Hello, Y/N. About the monthly report, please finish tomorrow afternoon at the latest. Because you have to focus on Barclays paper, they arranged a meeting this afternoon. I'm sorry for sudden notice.”

“Oh, it's okay. Actually, both are done. I might deliver to you right now?

“Already?” Y/N frown, somewhat confused to hear his shocked voice, “Err, yes?”

“Amazing. If you have the softcopy, it would be nice if you send me both of them. For the Barclays paper, you can keep it because you'll join me in the meeting. I'll see you in the lobby an hour from now. Thank you, Y/N.”

After he hung up, Y/N send him both of softcopy and rush out to grab lunch. This is her first meeting and she doesn't want to pass out in the middle of meeting because she was starving.

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The trip to Barclays takes 20 minutes but seeing the traffic is a bit crowded, maybe they will arrive a little longer. Along the way, Y/N prepares meeting material while Mr. Styles busy behind the wheel. Surpising enough a big boss like him drives himself.

“Mr. Styles? Samantha from Barclays just emailed new adress for meeting. It won't held in Barclays office.” Y/N spoke lowly, not sure what she said. It's strange that huge company like Barclays suddenly change their meeting place without any apparent reason. From the corner of her eye, Y/N can see him rolling his eyes.

“Where?”

“It will take place at Shangri-La The Shard.”

“Please push back until 4.15 pm, I'm afraid we can't be on time because the traffic.”

“Right away, sir.” Typing away his request, Barclays team confirmed it in less than five minutes, “Confirmed at 4.15 pm, level 34, Yi Room.”

“You know, you will get used to things like this, sudden meetings, sudden change of place, hours. Event cliet. So, don't be surprised.” He said, one hand stay still in the steering wheel and the other touching the LCD screen.  Y/N just realised, his left hand's fingers filled with rings except thumb and ring finger. Ink sticking out of his wrist even though it's covered by his suit jacket sleeve. She wonder how many tattoos he had underneath. His pinky nail was polished with chipped black nail polish.

“Fancy listening some music? I'm not very used to driving in silence.”

Y/N smiled, “Go ahead. I don't mind.”

Get Up I Feel Like Being a Sex Machine roaring softly throughout the car. He hummed happily while tapping on the wheel. She doesn't expect, despite his appearance, he has this kind of an old soul. Staring at him from the corner of eye, his looks doesn't need to be questioned. He has a very beautiful face. His charisma is extraordinary, even when they were walking together in the lobby, she could feel it. Y/N swore there was many females who can't take their eyes off of him when he walks.

“Something wrong Y/N?”Y/N was caught off the guards, didn't think he was aware the whole time she was staring at him. Even behind his sunglasses, Y/N swore his eyes were wrinkled in humour.

“N- No. I just didn't think you have an old music taste.” Y/N startled, her cheeks heated.

“Oh, do you want to change the song? What do young people usually like? Ed Sheeran? Justin Bieber? One Direction?” He muttered, tapping the screen. He look like he was talking to himself rather than talking to Y/N.

“Ew no.. no. I'm fine. I just quite surprised. Didn't mean any harm. I'm sorry, sir.” Y/N laugh, massaging her temple. It didn't occur to her he could joke like that, many high profile people like him are always rigid and strict. He laughing along, letting Everything Has Changed go next.

“You not need to call me Mr. Styles or sir if it doesn't involve work, you know? I feel like an old man with big belly if you keep calling me that. Tell me, how old are you? You are no more than twenty-four if I may guess.” He asked.

“Uh huh, turned twenty-two last January actually.”

He nodded, “Well. Before we met them, one thing you need to know about Barclays, they're a bit sneaky, like to make their clients feel uncomfortable. Don't be surprised if they're too blunts. To be honest, I'm not comfortable taking you there.”

Y/N frowned, watching him from the side. “If you don't mind me asking. Why?”

He sighed, “ Just be careful with Mr. Higgins.” When he turned the wheel, Y/N could see The Shard at the end of the road. This is her first time setting foot in luxury hotel, she was ecstactic and nervous at the same time.

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That meeting went well, even though it was tense up a little, Mr. Styles or Harry could soften it. He was so damn calm throughout the meeting, but Y/N was sure from the look of his eyes, he really want to end it quickly. Especially when Mr. Higgins kind of made a comment of her, Harry defended her well. Y/N really wanted to speak up herself, but it was better to be quiet, playing the good – obedient assitant.

Sending the agreement back and forth for almost two weeks, Erskine and Barclays finally found a deal.

That day, she was arranging Harry's meeting schedule for the next two weeks. Aware of number of meetings he has to attend, the more tasks awaits her. It's not that she was not happy, but her lunch hour was falling apart. Ring of her phone startled Y/N, without seeing the caller id, she grab it. “Y/N”

“I need you to come to my office right now, we have some serious issue to deal with.” With that, he hung up. Y/N frowned, Harry doesn't usually speak grimly like that. Rushing into his office, she found him sitting in his chair, one hand cupping his chin. His eyes blankly staring at some files on his desk.

“Is there anything I can help sir?” Y/N ask slowly walking toward him. Without looking at her, he nodded, “Have a seat.”

“Are you aware we have two contracts which are a little deviated from the absolute procedur?” He asked, his tone was low. “Well, it's really deviated.”

“No, sir.”

He sighed, not satisfied with her answer. “Both are big clients, and it has been going on for months.” He grab two big files, giving it to Y/N. “You read this, find and point out the mistake.”

While Y/N read the papers, Harry dialled Madeleine's extension. Asking someone who was unfamiliar to his office. 10 minutes passed, someone entered the office. Y/N dare to not looking, just focus on the papers and scribbled some points that she feel weird.

“You called me, sir?” A male voice. She could feel Harry stand up from his chair, hands resting on the desk. He whispered to Y/N to move to the couch.

“Did you drew up contracts with companies during 2018? All of them?”

“Only from April to September.”

“Did you know you messed up?”

“Pardon? I don't understand-”

“Two god-damn big companies could bail on us, Ethan. You didn't read it or didn't understand?!” For the first time Harry raised his voiced, you could see him trying to hold back his anger. This Ethan guy shaking in his boots, his head hang low, both hands tangled. Y/N glad Harry didn't scream a bloody murder, if he did, she was sure this room is soundproof.

“I'm sorry Mr. Styles, b-but it was under your knowledge. I asked you at that time but you shoo me away. Even I asked Carlton, he said everything has been discussed by you.”

Harry froze in his desk. He seemed shock, but shouldn't he not be surprised if the agreements was under his acknowledge?

“It was?” He asked, half unsure at what he said himself. Ethan nodded in confirmation. He excused himself after Harry told him to leave. In less than 30 seconds, the door bursted open revealing a man with fancy clothes, curly blonde hair, hands in his pants. Y/N never seen him in this company before. Harry sighed in disbelief, dialling Madeleine's extension immediately.

“Don't you know what function of the phone or fucking intercom is on your desk?! I didn't say I'd be available for another guests.” He hissed.

That blonde guy looking at surrounding, until his blazing blue eyes caught Y/N busy figure on the couch. He taking closer step to her, tilting his head. “I've never seen you before.” He spoke lowly. Y/N just offered a small smile.

“Hey, Harry. Is this your new birdie? You didn't tell me you got a new beau.”

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Unedited.

What do you think? Let me know!

[southeastasianists]

Everybody loves a ghost story. Really, everybody. All cultures have some variety of ghost story, by that name or another. But some are more pervasive and deeply ingrained than others. It isn’t really possible to identify the most ghost-heavy culture on the planet—there’s no clear metric for how one would judge such a thing. But few ghost cultures are as powerful and varied as the ones found in Malaysia. The modern English and North American conceptions of ghosts—from the ones under bed sheets to Victorian-garbed, translucent shades to the poltergeist that makes things go bump in the night—feel downright embarrassing in their limits when compared to the great world of Malay hantu.

Hantu is the general term for all ghosts, spirits, and otherworldly beings in Malaysia and among the Malay people of maritime Southeast Asia and its diaspora. There are hundreds, probably thousands, of them, ranging from natural spirits (representations of individual rivers, trees, and lakes) to vampire-type ghosts to leprechaun-like tricksters. Some are good, some are bad, some are to be avoided, and some are like partners to the living. And they coexist with wide range of religions observed by the very diverse people of Malaysia.

With a strategic location straddling the South China Sea, the land of the Malays has been a fluid and multinational place for thousands of years. Malaysia, known by that name or not, has been a vital trading post for huge empires: China, India, the Arabs, the Netherlands, Portugal, England. The indigenous people of Malaysia, called the Orang Asal, practice what the state (and researchers) tend to classify as a type of animism, with various natural objects held as sacred.

And all of those empires left their religions—and their more spiritualist aspects—behind, too. Today Islam is the most-practiced faith in country, but there are substantial numbers of Christians, Hindus, Buddhists, and others. (There were Jews for a long time, too; today, not so much. And ethnic Malays enjoy advantages that starkly stratify society there.) Malay ghost culture is, therefore, a hybrid of spirits, spooks, and haunters from around the globe.

“It certainly has a very big place in the culture,” says Cheryl Nicholas, an ethnographer at Penn State Berks who was born and raised in Malaysia and who has made Malay ghost culture a central part of her research. “Whether or not that continues in the more modern era, I don't know. I still feel the presence whenever I go back.” These ghost stories that imbue the culture of Malaysia seek, as many supernatural or religious stories do, to explain the mysteries of life and help lead a person to a more successful, longer, or more profitable one. Ghosts or spirits vary throughout the country and the culture, but there are some particularly popular individual types or broader categories

One of the most popular types is a sort of vampire-ghost. The pontianak is one that emerges upon the death of a woman during pregnancy or childbirth. She has the shape, usually, of a demonic woman capable of flight, who targets the blood of young children. (Alternatively, the pontianak may prey on men; these stories vary by region and teller.)

There are, in fact, a wide variety of ghosts floating around the concepts of birth and young children. There’s the hantu tetek, a ghost with pendulous breasts who likes to kidnap children just to play with them for awhile. She is used to explain why sometimes a child is found, unharmed, in a weird place, like deep in a bush or up a tree.

My favorite is the toyol, which is usually described as looking like a naked baby, though sometimes as more of a gremlin-baby. The toyol is very different from Western ghosts in a specific way: You can buy one.

Typically one purchases a toyol from a bomoh, or medium. It wouldn’t quite be described as a purchase, since you’d be paying the bomoh for connecting you with a toyol and the spirit itself would be free. Toyol are childlike: mischievous, a little clumsy, a little needy, easily distracted. But they are known as excellent thieves. You can have your toyol go out and steal for you, though Nicholas says it’s sometimes believed that a toyol will only steal up to the dollar amount you paid for it.

“The people in the village use that to explain petty theft,” she says. It also explains why you might see some shiny toys or marbles in front of rural Malaysian houses: countermeasures to distract a thieving toyol and give it something to play with. Nicholas says the best place to find a toyol isn’t in Malaysia, but rather near Mecca, Saudia Arabia. Muslim pilgrims have to discard all the bad influences in their lives for the Hajj, and though toyols aren’t exactly evil, they’re not what one would consider a force for good. In any case, you’ll find toyols near Mecca in the same way you’ll find stained Ikea furniture on move-out day at a college dorm.

The idea of owning a ghost of your own splits particularly hard with the Western conception of spirits as either barely aware of the modern world, or preoccupied with scaring people, or in search of eternal rest. Some Malay ghosts are more like partners to living humans, working side by side as protection—or to do one’s dirty work. Take the hantu polong, a sort of attack ghost used to inflict harm. It must be fed with blood from one’s fingers.

Nicholas’s work cataloging the wonders of Malay ghost culture has turned up dozens of species. There are some that cause specific health issues: The hantu buta causes blindness, hantu cika causes colic, hantu kembung is behind stomach aches. Some are more innocuous: Hantu apu is a party ghost, and so is hantu jamuan, though if it is not invited, it will wreck the festivities. Note to self: Remember to invite the hantu jamuan.

Another interesting aspect of many of these ghosts is the interaction, acknowledgement, or maintenance they require. Hantu lembong is a spirit of swollen growths on trees. Nicholas related a story she had been told about a man who had to formally apologize to this ghost after peeing on one of its trees while on a hike in the forest. If you disturb the soil, you might want to make an offering to hantu jembalang, a spirit of the earth. There are gigantic ghosts who get bigger the closer you get to them, ghosts with the head of a dog, ghosts that break traps to set animals free, ghosts of the moon and the sun and the sea. There are powerful elemental ghosts who should under no circumstances be messed with, and ghosts who throw stones at people for kicks.

“Ghosts are always a plausible explanation for Malaysians,” says Nicholas. A prominent urban bomoh even made international news following the disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight 370. He eventually claimed the plane was being hidden somewhere in Southeast Asia by the orang bunian, sort of like invisible supernatural elves.

The robust ghost culture only occasionally runs afoul of modern globalist culture of the industrialized nation. “There is a very distinctive negotiation between the public and the private” regarding ghosts in Malaysia, says Nicholas. When she traveled around the country seeking ghost stories, many people would repeatedly explain, and demand that she understand, that they are good Muslims before acknowledging and revealing all their great ghost stories. But ghosts are simply too entrenched in Malay culture to go away. There are tremendously popular ghost movies released all the time. A Malaysian rapper recently offered a reward for the name of the bomoh responsible for a curse put on him. Bomohs are sometimes used to find missing people.

In Malaysia, it seems, you’re never too far from a ghost. It’s not inherently good or bad, it’s just in the air.

[bewareofchris]

If you're still accepting promps, what about one where Shaun finally meets some of these semi-celebrities in real life that he has been chatting to over all these years?

Pg-13 | Altmal | sexual situations?  Embarrassment?  Kind of disjointed.  The only Shaun I’ve ever written was written 100 years ago and he was a sniper and in love with Malik, so…

son-of-no-one: @guyfawkes23, we’re going to be in England next month.  maybe you could show @sass-badger, how one properly handles a laptop. 

There was a great number of things that Shaun expected he’d manage with his life.  (And almost none of them had ended with him working in the basement IT office of a company he didn’t particularly like.)  He’d expected, by twenty five, to have a good job, a nice flat, possibly a girlfriend and an endless array of prospects.  Here he was, a troll in the dungeon, wearing a polo and a nametag with his name misspelled (for the third time in a row, so he’d given up).  He did have a flat, and a job but neither were nice exactly.  Instead of a girlfriend he had:

“You have to meet them,” Rebecca.

“I don’t,” Shaun countered.  “I have no desire for my private life to be splashed about the papers.  There’s enough speculation about me already.”

Rebecca folded her arms across the high top of the desk his monitor was hidden under.  She narrowed her eyes at him, to convey that he was completely wrong, and said, “setting aside that it would just be stupid not to meet the people you’ve spent an increasingly large number of hours harassing on social media, you would be stupid not to meet these men.  One of them is a billionaire who inherited several multinational businesses.  He already likes you, how hard would it be for you to network yourself into a nice job?”

“And I suppose,” he said motioning to the side, “right after I’ve got one for myself I could recommend you?”

Rebecca didn’t say duh but conveyed it with her entire body.  

“No,” Shaun said.

–

guyfawkes23: @son-of-no-one, @sass-badger, have you tried turning it off and on again?

notyourbrother: @guyfawkes32, its like the sun and the wind over here, could you please just agree to meet these idiots.

shaunrocks1: RT “@guyfawkes23, its like the sun and the wind…” I’m sure he’d show up if you did.

notyourbrother: @guyfawkes23, @shaunrocks1, done.

“It doesn’t count as you winning,” Altair said. 

Kadar couldn’t be 100% sure that it was even the first time he’d said it.  It had all the earmarks of having been the sixth, seventh or one millionth time that he said it because Malik’s counter was said in the exact way he repeated himself when he knew he couldn’t lose.  

“It does,” Malik said.  “Kadar and I are practically interchangeable.”

Kadar was just lounging in the first class waiting room, sinking into the seats that were more comfortable than his bed, trying not to get involved.  He had resolved not to use the headphones until they were actually on the plane (because the last thing he needed was to listen to them argue for god-knows-how-many-hours).  So, he could perfectly hear Altiar’s scoff, and the way he motioned at Kadar and when he said,

“So if you’re interchangeable, I should blow him in the airplane bathroom.”

“Uh,” Kadar said quietly.  

Malik whipped around to glare at him for having the audacity to not immediately be disgusted and outraged by the offer.  (It wasn’t that he was lusting after Altair, but that he hadn’t sex with anyone since Stephanie and just the possibility of having his penis touched by another person was enticing.)  “No,” Malik said to him, like he’d offered to let Altair suck his dick.  

“What were you going to get if you won?” Kadar asked.  He leaned forward so Altair could see he was being spoken to.

Altair didn’t answer but grin and that meant whatever it was, Malik wasn’t going to give up without a fight.  

“Well, as the officially winner of the bet who is not interchangeable with his brother, I say you both lost so you should just both pay up.”  Before Malik could be offended more, he added, “to each other.”

–

guyfawkes23: I’m off to settle, once and for all, if @notyourbrother is really three toddlers in a trenchcoat.  

bestofthree: rt “@guyfawkes23: i’m off to settle…”  He is.  I’ve already settled it.

The super rich man, his boyfriend and his boyfriends little brother had graciously agreed to meet Shaun anywhere he preferred.  The correspondence had been accomplished through a intermediary (perhaps so neither side had the other’s contact information if they found out they hated one another).  Shaun had been trying to cope with the reality of his life, and with Rebecca’s over-excited chattering, so he had named the first deli that crossed his mind.  

That was how he ended up meeting Altair (just as intimidating in person), Malik (slightly more handsome in living colors) and Kadar (a good three times taller than expected) in the same deli that he stopped to grab a bite in every other day.

Rebecca was there too, sitting at the table while Shaun stood awkwardly (underdressed, underprepared, overall very underwhelming in comparison) to greet the three strangers.  “Yes, hello,” he said.  “Did you bring the laptop?” as a means of a joke.

Altair smiled (in a forgiving way).  Malik looked confused.  Kadar was biting his lip at the end of the line, looking as if he were working very hard not to laugh at them all.  “Are you shaunrocks1?” he asked Rebecca.

“Also known as Rebecca,” she said and reached her hand up to shake his.  “I lost a bet.  You’re notyourbrother?”

“Yes,” Kadar said.  “All my friends call me Kadar.”  Then he pulled a chair out from the opposite side of the table and invited himself to sit.  “So if I wanted to order something I could only get in England, what would I order?”

Shaun cleared his throat and motioned at the table.  “Please sit.”

–

guyfawkes23: not sure if @notyourbrother is three toddlers but he definitely has three stomachs.

They relaxed by degrees, eased along the way by how Kadar didn’t seem to be able to maintain an atmosphere of awkwardness with anyone.  Malik was as prickly in person as he seemed online, the kind of guy that was easily mistaken to be uppity (not that Malik wasn’t arrogant).  

Altair was the one Shaun couldn’t quite figure out.  That must have been how he’d let himself be invited to dinner the next night.  Because he sat across the table from the man, held a conversation with him about local sights to see and the sorts of food that Kadar had to try while he was here, and not once did it seem as if he were speaking to an actual person.

“He’s weird, isn’t he?” Shaun asked once he’d closed the flat door behind them.  

Rebecca was shrugging it off like it was nothing.  “Which one?  I wouldn’t describe any of them as average.”

“Altair,” Shaun said.

“I didn’t notice.  Did you expect Kadar to be that tall?  He was huge.”

“No,” Shaun admitted.  “I expected him to be half that size.  If that much.”  

They compared notes, about expectation and reality, until long past bedtime.

–

sass-badger: as I’ve said before, the anonymous internet is welcome to speculate as they wish.  I neither encourage nor discourage fan-based creations.  

sass-badger: however, if you’re tweeting questions at me you wouldn’t ask a stranger, please take a moment to rethink your choice.

notyourbrother: come on, @sass-badger they just want to know if you had a threesome with @guyfawkes23!

sass-badger: its a very long walk home,@notyourbrother.

Altair snorted at the phone as the notifications popped up on the screen.  He was killing time, lingering out on the sidewalk while he waited for Shaun to show up.  It was entirely possible the man wasn’t going to show up (it was hard to tell how that first meeting had gone).  Ten minutes after the time they’d agreed on, Shaun arrived red-in-the-face, clutching the strap of his bag and panting from exertion.  

“I’m here,” he gasped as he folded forward, hands around his knees as he sucked in air.  “Sorry I’m late.”

It was hard to know how to respond to that, “I could have sent a car.”

“No,” Shaun assured him as he stood up straight again.  “It’s fine.  I just haven’t had a reason to run in a bit.”  He huffed in an attempt to stop breathing heavy.  “We can’t all be good at athletics.”  Like an afterthought he added, “and academics, and be handsome,” he motioned at Altair’s entire body.  

“I have a horrible family if that makes you feel better,” Altair offered.

“Yes, that does help.”

“Good,” seemed like the correct response.  “Well, I brought you here to buy you clothes.”  He motioned at the storefront.  “They make very nice suits.”

“Ah,” Shaun said.  “That’ll be nice, everyone needs a good suit to be buried in.”

There was no real way to know how to take that.  “I’m not going to kill you.  Maria wanted to meet you so we’re going to a slightly different restaurant than we agreed on.”

“Maria Thorpe?  The Academy Award winning actress, Maria Thorpe?” Shaun repeated.

“Yes.”  He slid his phone back into his pocket.  “Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Shaun agreed.  

Altair wasn’t exactly sure how to handle Shaun’s contained energy.  It was very like London when she was begging for table scraps without wanting to beg.  As much as she tried, she simply couldn’t stand still, and that was Shaun, shifting on his feet but trying not to.  “Am I making you nervous?”

“I’m naturally very nervous,” Shaun assured him.  “I do best far away, you know behind a computer screen.  I find that’s where I excel.”

“You don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”

Shaun laughed, “I rather think I do have to do it.  What would I tell everyone if I didn’t?  I had the chance to meet Maria Thorpe but I turned it down?  I was offered a nice suit and I thought, this polo was nice enough already.”  He laughed as his hand plucked at his shirt and it caught on his name tag hanging off his shirt.  “This isn’t even how you spell my name.  I don’t believe I’ll turn this down just because I’m nervous.”

So they went.

–

shaunrocks1: my life is complete, i got kissed by @mariathorpe.

Kadar must have had parasites.  The man was far taller than Shaun expected (somewhat rudely, based entirely on his internet persona) but he wasn’t as fat as a cow despite how much he’d eaten.  While Rebecca was slow-dancing with Maria (Thorpe, Academy Award Winning Actress), Shaun had declined the offer in favor of staying safely sitting at the table with his very nice new suit.  

“Have you gotten used to all this?” Shaun asked.  He motioned at the table of abandoned plates, and the glamour of a dance floor, and the spectacle of money that surrounded them.  If he were a few years younger he might have started ranting about the entitlement of money.  Yet, here he was, smack in the middle of it, feeling smallish and out of place.

“No,” Kadar said.  He set his fork down when he finished eating.  “You have to stop staring at Altair, man.  He’s just a guy.”

“Was I staring?”

Kadar nodded.  “A lot.”

Shaun looked embarrassed.  “He’s just–”  There was no word to sum it up.  There was simply something about Altair that was unnerving, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  It felt like a word on the tip of his tongue, as if he could just figure out the first letter he could figure out the rest.  

“Just a guy,” Kadar said.  “Hey, they’re supposed to go romantic sight-seeing tomorrow.  You want to meet somewhere and be regular humans?”

“What would regular humans do?” Shaun asked.

“Are you really going to act like you haven’t been teasing me with your super elite gaming prowess for the past year?  I want to see this super console that you and your roommate made.  I’ll buy food, drink, snacks, hookers, drugs, whatever you want.  I came to England to see this.”

Shaun laughed.  “Sure,” he said.

“Great,” Kadar said.  Then he stood up and dropped his napkin on the table.  “Come on, you came all this way, you can’t leave without dancing.”  He dragged Shaun up to his feet and over to the little dance floor.  “Only I hope you can lead because the only person I’ve danced with is bossy and she wouldn’t let me lead.”  

Shaun felt ridiculous, “I can try.”

They must have been too embarrassing to tolerate because Altair appeared after a moment to say, “let me,” and he slid into the space where Kadar had been.  Shaun looked over his shoulder to see Kadar going to dance with Maria (Thorpe, Academy Award and BAFTA Award winning actress) while Rebecca was chatting with Malik as they headed back to the table.  

“I’m not very good at this,” Shaun said.

Altair smiled and, for the first time, it seemed perfectly at ease.  “I am,” he said with zero humility.  Then he showed Shaun where to put his hands.  It was doomed to fail and so it was very confusing to suddenly be spurred into smooth motion.  Altair stepped backward, using his fingers to guide Shaun in a way that shouldn’t have worked.

“This is a bit insane,” Shaun whispered, and when the song came to an end, he was laughing from nerves while Altair’s hand took him by the wrist and pulled him back to the table.  Dessert had appeared while they were gone.  “I feel properly romanced,” he said when he took his seat.  

“Hey,” Malik objected.  Altair kissed him before he could say anything else.  It wasn’t entirely platonic or appropriate but that didn’t really stop them.

“Yeah,” Kadar whispered into his ear, “watching Altair dance with other guys supercharges Malik’s libido.  They’ll be like all night.  Just ignore it.”  

[mindthump]

The best PS1 games of all time: From Symphony of the Night to Final Fantasy 7 http://bit.ly/2WiC9N8

Sony tentatively entered the video game market by partnering with Nintendo to develop a new, disc-based console in the mid-90s. After that partnership fell apart, Sony went on to release a console of its own.

The first PlayStation launched in Japan in late 1994, and in the following year, to the rest of the world. Although the PS1 wasn’t the first console to use CD-ROMs or provide true 3D graphics, it created the breakout moment for both of those technologies in gaming.

Ranging from novel-length, narrative-driven RPGs to fast and furious races to mind-bending puzzles, games for the original PlayStation offered a wildly diverse lineup over its 11-year production run.

Take a stroll down memory lane with us as we count down the 50 best PlayStation 1 games ever made. Do they hold a candle to the best PS4 games? You decide.

Action

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

The Castlevania series was over a decade old by the time Symphony of the Night arrived, but it was absolutely the franchise’s defining moment. It radically expanded the series’ platforming with RPG loot and progression and non-linear exploration, lending its suffix to the subsequent “Metroidvania” genre as a result.

Unlike previous Castlevanias, where you controlled members of the vampire-hunting Belmont family, SotN revolves around Alucard, the lazily-named son of Dracula, who fights the horrible monsters of the castle to protect humanity from his father. Symphony of the Night stood out immediately for bold choices like hiding more than half of the game behind a false ending, or using the CD format to make a massive game filled with rich, 2D sprites instead of the crude, early 3D the rest of the industry was pursuing at the time.

One of the most influential action-RPGs of all time, Castlevania: Symphony of the Night is still just as satisfying to play now as it was 20 years ago.

Metal Gear Solid

Between Thief: The Dark Project on PC and Metal Gear Solid on PlayStation, 1998 was the year that modern stealth video games were born. A sequel to two lesser-known games from creator Hideo Kojima, you play as special ops soldier Solid Snake, infiltrating the hideout of a rogue unit threatening the United States with a nuclear strike.

Snake has a variety of tools for evading and taking out guards, making it one of the most taut and tactical gaming experiences available at the time. The series has since spawned four more critically-acclaimed main entries and various spinoffs, radically expanding upon both its deep gameplay and Kojima’s baroque, nuclear mythology. But the first Metal Gear Solid remains an unassailable classic.

Twisted Metal 2

Prior to leading the team behind God of War, designer David Jaffe rose to prominence for his work on the PS1 vehicular combat series, Twisted Metal. In the demolition derby taken to a post-apocalyptic extreme, players take the wheel of various over-the-top armed and armored vehicles. Projectile weapons and power-ups are scattered throughout the arenas, set in the ruins of major cities around the world. The cars and drivers — like the series’ iconic ice cream truck, Sweet Tooth, and Axel, a muscle-bound man straddling two truck tires — ooze personality even in the early polygonal days of 3D.

The first game included only a single-player campaign and co-op mode, but the sequel expanded everything about it, including more vehicles, more arenas, and more custom and multiplayer modes for just dropping in and enjoying the mayhem à la carte. A contractual dispute between Sony and developer SingleTrac led to subsequent sequels being developed by other, less capable studios, making TM2 the peak of Twisted Metal for most fans.

Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver

An action-focused spinoff of the top-down RPG series Legacy of Kain, Soul Reaver was a third-person action game from Crystal Dynamics, which would go on to earn acclaim with its reboot of Tomb Raider. You play as the ghostly vampire Raziel in the grimdark fantasy world of Nosgoth.

Players loved its dark, compelling narrative, voice acting, and varied mechanics. One of its main conceits was the ability to swap between the physical and spectral realm at any time. Crystal Dynamics was unable to simply layer two different versions of the world on top of one another because of the console’s limitations; achieving the effect was no small technical feat.

Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver is also notable as one of the first major games written by Uncharted series scribe Amy Hennig, now considered among the best game narrative creators in the business.

Tenchu: The Stealth Assassins

With their long-held mystique both within and beyond Japan, ninjas have featured prominently in video games since very early on. In franchises like Ninja Gaiden, however, they had largely been translated into nimble, hack-and-slash fighters. Tenchu: The Stealth Assassins is one of the first games to truly embrace the ninja as a stealthy infiltrator who must rely on his tools and wits to survive, rather than just weapons and reflexes. Developed by Japanese studio Acquire, Tenchu was the feudal Japanese parallel to Metal Gear Solid’s nuclear melodrama. Failing a mission would cause you to lose whatever tools they were carrying at the time, forcing you to be careful and deliberate when planning your approach to each mission. Fantastical elements from Japanese mythology provided fun flavor, but Tenchu was most fun because of how human and vulnerable you felt, making success all the sweeter.

Syphon Filter

Although somewhat overshadowed by Metal Gear Solid, Syphon Filter was another exceptional 3D, third-person action-stealth game for the platform that was praised at the time even if its legacy has not endured as strongly. Newbie developer Eidetic took equal inspiration from Goldeneye 007 on the Nintendo 64, hoping to create a “super-spy” hybrid genre with stealth, action, and puzzles.

It tells a gritty, contemporary story about special operatives facing off against biological terrorists in a world-spanning story that encompasses governments, multinational pharmaceutical companies, and conspiracies that run all the way up to the top. It was a pulpy and immersive plot, enhanced greatly by gameplay that was a compelling balance of stealth and straight-up action. Critics cued into its stellar AI, a key requirement for good stealth games, which was among the most impressive in any game to date.

Einhänder

Although best known at the time for its roleplaying games, Japanese developer Square was no one-trick pony. Case in point: It also gave us Einhänder, an absolutely fantastic side-scrolling shoot-’em-up in the tradition of Gradius (though not quite as extreme as the “bullet hell” subgenre that came after it).

Set in the future during a war between Earth and the Moon, you pilot a spacecraft through horizontal, 2.5D levels, destroying enemies and collecting power-ups. The name, a German word for a one-handed sword, alludes to the core mechanic of your ship’s sole grappling arm, used to pick up weapons scavenged from destroyed enemies. Weapons mostly have finite ammo, forcing the player to keep finding new ones and adapting their play style to what’s available.

Apart from the generally slick presentation, players loved the tactical variety enabled by the system of picking up new weapons, as well as the way that bosses had discrete parts that could be targeted and disabled. Although well outside of Square’s wheelhouse, many consider Einhänder to be one of the genre’s best, and Square’s finest non-RPG work to date.

Ace Combat 2

The original Ace Combat (released as Air Combat) was one of the first games released on the original PlayStation, and it showed. This sequel was an improvement by developer Namco in basically every way. Gameplay is divided into relatively linear, objective-based missions, with resources becoming available to upgrade your jets depending on how successful you were at destroying all targets.

It’s an arcade-style combat flight simulator, “arcade style” here referring to its gameplay-over-simulation design, with only semi-realistic physics and the ability to carry far more missiles than an actual jet could — though difficulty settings allowed more hardcore players to fly with greater realism if they so desired.

Mega Man Legends 2

Although the PlayStation hosted some of the best conventional 2D Mega Man games as well, it was also the exclusive home to some weird entries like Mega Man Legends, as well. With only the main character in common (and a cheeky reference to how he’s named after a character’s favorite video game), Legends is set in an archipelago where he travels around with the Caskett family of treasure hunters, scouring ruins for ancient machinery in search of the legendary Mother Lode.

In addition to refining the run and gun mechanics (replete with a fairly deep crafting and customization system), the second game also presented a much richer and more character-driven narrative than the structure typical to the core series of “hunt the bosses to get their powers.” The voice-acted cutscenes were particularly entertaining, feeling very much like watching an anime. It featured memorable characters like your nemesis, the pirate Tron Bonne, who had her own spin-off game between two Legends entries. A third game was canceled in development.

Tomb Raider 2

The original Tomb Raider essentially founded the genre of the 3D action/adventure game, but it’s the sequel that really made it sing. A radical departure from the cutesey, cartoon mascots of the previous console generation, international treasure hunter Lara Croft was immediately embraced as one of gaming’s most iconic characters, heralding the medium’s maturation.

The first game’s mix of exploration, platforming, combat, and puzzle-solving was expanded substantially for the sequel, with refined controls, bigger environments, and more exciting set-pieces. The third game felt a bit more like a rushed cash-in, leaving Tomb Raider 2 as the series’ peak for a lot of players until the universally-praised 2013 reboot.

Fighting

Bushido Blade

Feudal Japanese weapon-focused 3D fighting game Bushido Blade is the most well-known game from Japanese studio Light Weight, and it’s still somewhat anomalous within the genre. Eschewing the convention of health bars entirely, blows would either cripple particular body parts or kill you outright. This gave the game a rare degree of realism, and a much more tactical and punctuated tempo.

There were eight realistically simulated weapons and six characters with different stats, abilities, and proficiencies with each weapon, and a stance-based fighting system, giving players a lot of options. Also unlike the discrete levels of conventional fighters, its arenas were all inter-connected, and players could run and climb between them, using the environment to their advantage.

Bushido Blade had one direct sequel and another similar title on PS2, but those smoothed out some of its quirks too much for our taste. Other fighting games like the Soulcalibur series and more recently For Honor have explored weapons-focused “dueling,” but nothing has quite replicated what made the original Bushido Blade special.

Tekken 3

Street Fighter set the bar for 2D fighting games in the early 90s, but brawling in the third dimension was all about Tekken. This arcade-native franchise set the high bar for 3D fighters, perfecting the formula with the third entry. Where previous entries made relatively little use of the third dimension, depending on the character, Tekken 3 toned down the hyperbolic jumping and made it so every character could easily sidestep into the third dimension, opening up one of the most tactically complex and polished fighting systems in video games to date. A large and diverse roster of characters and truly impressive graphics for a home console port of an arcade game made Tekken 3 an instant classic, and it still holds the honor of being the second-best selling fighting game on any platform of all time, after only Super Smash Brothers Brawl.

Street Fighter Alpha 3

While Tekken and Bushido Blade blazed new paths for fighting games in the third dimension, Capcom stuck to its roots with Street Fighter, the fighting franchise that started it all. It featured a massive roster of 34 combatants drawn from the series’ whole history. It also introduced three different “isms” playstyles, changing the mechanics of how combos work and special moves charged up. While some felt that the 2D, sprite-based graphics dated the game, in retrospect it looks great, and holds up magnificently well as one of the most comprehensive and refined entries in the Street Fighter franchise.

Darkstalkers 3

Capcom was on such a roll producing top-notch fighting games during the ’90s that it sometimes overshadowed its own excellent titles. The Darkstalkers series of 2D fighters was always a cult and critical darling but had middling commercial success. Relatively standard (but solid) mechanically, it was mostly recognized for its anime-meets-gothic-horror aesthetic, with characters like vampires, mummies, demons, and a yeti. The look was magnificently refined by the time it hit the third game, with detailed and fluidly animated sprites that are among the best of the decade. First released in arcades, the game had undergone several character additions and balance changes by the time it was ported to PlayStation — all of which made it one of the fastest, fun, and charming fighters to play at home.

Platformers

Crash Bandicoot

Recently remastered in full, Naughty Dog’s original Crash Bandicoot trilogy (recently remade for PS4) endures as one of the most iconic 3D platforming series from the genre’s heyday. As the eponymous Crash, you are a mutant bandicoot (an Australian marsupial) on a quest to stop Dr. Neo Cortex from taking over the world with an army of other mutant animals.

The gameplay is standard for the genre — patrolling enemies, jumping challenges, power-ups, and collectibles, though levels were generally linear: It’s more Mario than Banjo-Kazooie. It was most highly praised at the time for its visuals, which felt more like a playable cartoon than any game to date. The vibrant character in Crash’s various death animations were particularly memorable in that regard.

Oddworld: Abe’s Exoddus

The original PlayStation was a fascinating, transitional period in game design, with a big uptick in processing power and storage opening up a whole new field of possible aesthetics to explore. Oddworld: Abe’s Oddysee was a cinematic platformer in the tradition of Prince of Persia or Another World. You play as Abe, an enslaved member of the Mudokon race, leading a rebellion against their corporate overlords before they are turned into a cheap food source.

It’s grim satire for sure, but full of warmth, humor, and loving attention to detail. As Abe explores, solves puzzles, and avoids enemies, he has to rely on his wits more than anything else, because he’s liable to die without much effort. The sequel, Abe’s Exoddus, picked up right after the first game and enhanced it with both quality of life improvements such as quick saving, and more elaborate puzzles based around communicating with NPCs. A recent, well-received remake of the original shows that there’s still a lot to be enjoyed in this classic series.

Rayman

Before designer Michel Ancel gave us Beyond Good & Evil (will the sequel ever appear?), he created one of the most enduring characters in platforming, Rayman. Released early in the PlayStation’s life cycle, Rayman was a stunningly colorful and charming 2D platformer, using the console’s 32-bit processor to present one of the most vibrant and detailed games to date. The story was light, fantastical nonsense, as the eponymous Rayman fought and jumped his way through various themed worlds to defeat bosses and save the day.

Rayman subsequently took a detour into 3D platforming as well, but his real legacy was secured in 2011’s Rayman Origins, which returned to the bright, animated aesthetic of the original. It didn’t rock any boats in terms of gameplay, but Rayman is still beloved as one of its generation’s most solid iterations on the platforming genre, which is still alive and well today.

Spyro 2: Ripto’s Rage

In the immediate wake of the Sonic vs. Mario console wars of the early-to-mid 90s, marketers still held onto the idea that a console needed a family-friendly platforming mascot to succeed. Next to Crash Bandicoot, the cutely-proportioned Spyro the Dragon competed for that spot on the original PlayStation.

En route to vacation, Spyro is pulled through a magical portal into a fantastical world under assault by a warlock who gleefully discovered there were no dragons to bother him. Spyro collects a series of MacGuffins to progress through nonlinear levels and unlock new traversal and combat abilities.

The whole first trilogy, developed by Insomniac Games, is well remembered for its colorful characters and solid platforming, but for our money, the second one hits the sweet spot of refined mechanics and freshness.

Klonoa: Door to Phantomile

The transition from 2D to 3D gaming produced a lot of interesting artifacts, but oddly enough, most developers didn’t think to try the intermediary style that’s grown more popular in recent years: so-called “2.5D” (action rendered in 3D but largely constrained to a 2D plane). This Namco-developed platformer is set in Phantomile, a fantastical realm manifested from the dreams that people forget soon upon waking.

You play as Klonoa, an anthropomorphic resident of Phantomile with a power-granting wind spirit that inhabits a ring. Gameplay is standard for the genre, with enemies, puzzles, and bosses spread out across themed levels. Praised by critics at its release, Klonoa can be hard to find now, particularly outside of Japan, but is fondly remembered as a solid and enjoyable platformer.

Jumping Flash!

Released in 1995, one year before Super Mario 64, Jumping Flash! holds the honor (according to Guinness) of being the first truly 3D platforming video game. Presented in first-person, you play Robbit, a robotic rabbit, exploring open levels to collect four MacGuffins (“jump packs,” in this case) to progress through its six themed worlds, each with a culminating boss battle after three levels.

Robbit’s ability to triple-jump mid-air is the game’s mechanical focus, supplemented by various power-ups with classic effects like temporary invincibility, extending the level time limit, or increasing Robbit’s health. Although it was soon overshadowed by the flourishing of 3D platforming’s imminent golden age, Jumping Flash! is still an innovative and under-appreciated trailblazer.

Ape Escape

In this third-person platformer you play a boy, Spike, tasked with travelling through time and using a variety of gadgets to capture hyper-intelligent apes that are meddling with history. It was the first game to require the PlayStation’s DualShock controller before the now-standard vibrating two-stick model came stock with the console. Rather than using the right stick to control the camera, it was used to manipulate the gadgets. Acclaimed at the time and fondly remembered since, it’s a seminal moment in platforming video games for both its cutting edge presentation and mechanics.

Puzzle

I.Q.: Intelligent Qube

The PlayStation’s most memorable games tended to be immersive fantasies, yet there were a few exceptions more purely focused on gameplay. I.Q.: Intelligent Qube was a 3D puzzle game in which a player ran around on a gridded platform, clearing cubes before they push him off into the void. It was a challenging brain-tickler, given more replayability with the ability to create new levels, a feature that unlocks after completing the game once. Although released in the West, it was most successful in its native Japan, garnering several sequels.

Super Puzzle Fighter II Turbo

This port of a hit Japanese arcade puzzle game for one or two players isn’t actually a sequel to anything, but is cheekily named after Super Street Fighter II Turbo because it bolts the aesthetic and interface elements of Capcom 2D fighters onto a falling block puzzle. In it, Chibi versions of Street Fighter and Darksiders characters performed a silly battle that reflected what was happening in the puzzles.

Capcom developed the game for Japanese arcades in response to the popularity of Sega’s Puyo Puyo 2. It employed similar competitive mechanics to Puyo of successful chains dumping garbage blocks onto the opponent’s field, which could be countered with a quick combo in response. The charming 2D graphics and solid competitive puzzling mechanics have aged beautifully, maintaining this game’s reputation as a delightful cross-genre curio.

Racing

Gran Turismo 2

Hyper-realistic driving sims are flourishing, but Gran Turismo was the cream of the crop for virtual gearheads in the PS1 era. The smooth forms and inorganic materials of cars have always been an excellent test case for the cutting edge of realistic graphics, and as such Gran Turismo 2 was one of the first games where you might glance at the screen and think you’re watching live television.

The gameplay, graphics, and physics were largely unchanged from the first game, with the most notable expansion being in Gran Turismo 2’s enormous roster of real-world cars (over 600, the largest in any game to date), a robust customization system, and more flexibility to take part in races à la carte, rather than necessarily structured as tournaments. It was a bestseller among both car fans and regular gamers, establishing Gran Turismo as a key racing franchise that has endured through the present.

Wipeout XL

Like F-Zero on the SNES, the Wipeout series let players experience fantastical levels of speed in futuristic racing. Players piloted extremely fast, anti-gravity ships through dramatic, high-tech courses. Gameplay revolved around extremely high speeds, power-ups, and utilizing air brakes for drifting turns around tight corners.

Expanding and improving upon the first game in nearly every way, Wipeout XL was praised for its intense gameplay and slick presentation, including a techno music soundtrack and detailed background worldbuilding that made it feel like the immersive, futuristic entertainment video games had promised to become since the 80s.

Crash Team Racing

Mario Kart clones flourished on all consoles in the years following the success of Mario Kart 64, and Crash Team Racing was handily the best available on the PlayStation. Developed by Naughty Dog, it featured characters from the Crash Bandicoot trilogy kart racing for up to four players. Like its obvious inspiration, it featured aggressive and speed-boosting power-ups, drift turning, and whimsical, elaborate courses.

Unlike Mario Kart games, in addition to standard, time trial, and battle modes, it also included a story that progressively unlocked additional characters and modes as players completed it. For the most part, it didn’t shake up the formula in any substantial ways, but it was a solidly designed, good looking, and fun game that filled a definite niche for PlayStation owners. Not every great game needs to reinvent the wheel, after all.

R4: Ridge Racer Type 4

Between the simulation-focused realism of Gran Turismo and the wacky hijinks of Kart racers, you have Ridge Racer. R4, the Namco-developed series’ final entry on PlayStation, looks like the former, but plays closer to the latter. That made it perfect for racing fans who wanted the fantasy of realistic-looking cars but were turned off by realistic handling. 321 vehicles to unlock and a variety of tracks and modes make this a great package for anyone who wanted a rich, arcade-style racing experience. Many still consider it the peak of the Ridge Racer series.

Driver: You are the Wheelman

While most driving games framed the action around races, Driver instead sought to recreate the feeling of 60s and 70s car chase movies like Bullitt or 1978’s Driver. Set in open-world urban environments inspired by real cities, Driver looked forward to the sort of hijinks that would come to define Grand Theft Auto games, like escaping from cops or smashing up other cars. It also included an interesting Film Director mode that allowed players to capture replays with particular camera angles.

Rhythm

PaRappa the Rapper

Before Harmonix made the genre blow up with Guitar Hero on the PlayStation 2, PaRappa the Rapper was the name in rhythm games. Sidestepping the crude stabs at realism that contemporary developers were making with the console’s nascent 3D tech, PaRappa features colorful, 2D characters in 3D environments. This highlighted design over horsepower, decades ahead of current trends to integrate 2D and 3D artwork into more visually interesting aesthetics than the brown-grey realism that dominated the early part of the millennium.

PaRappa’s bright and cheery look was a 90s hip-hop Day-Glo fantasia, and the music, while lyrically inane, holds up shockingly well over 20 years later. PaRappa the Rapper has been technically surpassed by subsequent rhythm games in nearly every regard, but it’s still rightly beloved as a groundbreaking curio from a time in gaming before genres became quite so crystallized and anything felt possible.

Vib-Ribbon

Although Vib-Ribbon is one of the most visually primitive games ever released for the original PlayStation, ironically it could now most easily be mistaken for a contemporary indie title. In this minimalist rhythm platformer, you play Vibri, a rabbit who must traverse courses generated procedurally from the music, all rendered in simple, white, line vector graphics on a black background.

The game’s lightweight visuals meant that it could be loaded entirely into the console’s RAM, and thus players could generate levels based on any music CDs they put in. Using CDs to generate material for games had been explored on PlayStation already in Monster Rancher, but Vib-Ribbon was the first to integrate the content itself into the game. Well ahead of the curve for both rhythm games and minimalist, procedural platformers, Vib-Ribbon feels nearly timeless now.

Role-playing

Final Fantasy IX

Breaking off from the trajectory of Final Fantasy VII and VIII toward gritty sci-fi, FF9’s return to the stylized, chibi aesthetic and light-hearted fantasy of the series’ original entries left many fans turned off. In retrospect, it stands out as a fantastic synthesis of the franchise’s recent ideas with its classic mechanical and worldbuilding tropes. It follows the rogueish Zidane, the rebellious princess Garnett, and their assembled friends taking on the sinister Queen Brahne and her world domination plans. It’s classic Final Fantasy through and through, and is easily the most charming and fun entry from the era.

Final Fantasy VII

Perhaps the most famous entry of the premier Japanese RPG franchise, FF7 was a massive, breakout event for the series, breaking into the third dimension and reaching far wider audiences than ever before. It tells the tale of mercenary Cloud Strife and his ragtag friends taking on the sinister Shinra Corporation, which is literally draining the planet’s life force. The chunky, polygonal visuals haven’t aged well, but characters like Sephiroth and moments like the death of Aeris loom large for gamers (as evidenced by the hugely hyped remake in the works), making this still one of the most influential and well regarded RPGs of all time.

Chrono Cross

Squaresoft RPG Chrono Trigger is still widely considered one of the greatest video games of all time. Its PlayStation sequel never achieved the same reputation, but it’s nevertheless a fun and interesting game that holds up quite well. Like the first game’s different time periods, Chrono Cross’ primary narrative conceit was jumping back and forth between two parallel timelines, in one of which the protagonist had died as a child.

The game features over 50 recruitable characters, each with their own personal quest to follow, making it literally impossible to see everything in a single playthrough. The connections to the first game are non-obvious at first, but ultimately it ties them all together in an interesting and resonant tale that frequently meditates on loss and regret. It’s also colorful, fun, and features unique approaches to both combat and progression.

Xenogears

Another fiercely loved Squaresoft RPG, Xenogears started as a pitch for Final Fantasy VII, but eventually spun off to start its own science fiction franchise. Long and ambitious, it amazed some and perplexed others with the plot’s complicated political and religious themes, along with a healthy dollop of Jungian psychoanalysis.

You play as the amnesiac young man Fei Fong Wong in a quest to save the world from Deus, an ancient, planet-killing weapon that has gained sentience. Gameplay featured both conventional, Final Fantasy style active time battles, as well as fights in the eponymous Gears (giant mecha suits) that involved managing action points and developing combos. The first Squaresoft RPG to feature voice acting and anime cutscenes, Xenogears was a leap forward in the medium’s potential for mature and cinematic storytelling.

Vagrant Story

Yasumi Matsuno’s action RPG stood out from its peers at Square because of its razor focus. Rather than assembling a ragtag crew of wacky misfits to save the world, you play a single character, Ashley Riot, a knight sent after a cult leader who kidnapped a noble family and absconded to a ruined medieval city, Leá Monde.

Like Parasite Eve, it featured pausable, real-time combat and the ability to target and be targeted on particular body parts, crippling particular capabilities. Combined with an elaborate weapon crafting and armor system, it provided a rich and focused tactical playground that players enjoyed experimenting with for years. It was essentially retconned into Ivalice, the world of Final Fantasy Tactics and XII, but even without that it would stand alone as a beloved classic for its mature story and mechanical depth.

Final Fantasy VIII

Following the explosive, global success of FFVII was a tall order, but Square managed to keep aggressively evolving the series for its immediate sequel. Final Fantasy VIII was the first in the series to feature realistically proportioned characters and continued the move from 7 towards the fantasy-infused sci-fi aesthetics that defined later entries.

The story revolved around Squall Leonhart and a party of other freshly-trained SeeD mercenaries in a quest that quickly turns from political to world-ending stakes. Fans also latched onto the romance between Squall and fellow party member Rinoa, which featured an original vocal track (a series first), “Eyes on Me” by Chinese singer Faye Wong.

The game was a radical departure mechanically, getting rid of magic points in favor of the elaborate “Junction” system of drawing finite quantities of spells from enemies that you could either cast or hold onto in order to buff up particular stats. It was an odd system that didn’t make it into subsequent entries, but demonstrated the franchise’s ongoing willingness to reinvent itself in core ways.

Suidoken II

While widely beloved by fans and critics, Suidoken II’s limited print run and distribution prevented it from reaching the universal acclaim that Final Fantasy games found on the PlayStation, at least in the West. Loosely based on the plot of a classical Chinese novel, it was most praised for its story: a complex and mature political saga of warring nations and city-states struggling for independence.

The scope of that narrative was reflected in the scope of the party you could recruit, with over 100 characters able to join you through personal side quests (though not all in combat roles). It featured both standard turn-based party battles in the vein of Final Fantasy as well as large-scale, strategic engagements on a grid more reminiscent of Fire Emblem. Suidoken II was about as epic as you could get on the PlayStation.

Legend of Mana

The Secret of Mana series grew up alongside Final Fantasy in the 8- and 16-bit eras (the first game was actually sold in the United States as Final Fantasy Adventure), generally taking a slightly lighter tone and substituting the turn-based battles with more open, action RPG gameplay. Legend of Mana is the fourth entry (following the fantastic Seiken Densestsu 3 for SNES, which has still not been officially localized in the west).

A recurring theme on this list, the storage and processing power of the PlayStation was leveraged not to make crude stabs at 3D graphics but to fill it to the brim with lush, beautiful 2D graphics, universally praised at the time as looking like an animated film, and aging exceptionally well.

Set after a cataclysmic war, the player is tasked with restoring the land of Fa’Diel (and eventually the Tree of Mana itself) by literally placing parts of the land on the map that have been sealed in artifacts, with their relative placement affecting things like the strength of elemental magic types in each region. It was criticized at the time for making the story feel too diffuse, but in retrospect, its nonlinear, system-rich approach feels ahead of its time.

Wild Arms

One of the first RPGs released for the PlayStation, Wild Arms stands apart also for its highly-unconventional setting that blends traditional JRPG fantasy tropes with visual elements from the American old west. Set in the world of Filgaia, you play a scrappy band of wandering adventurers called Dream Chasers, including a boy, Rudy, who can excavate and use ARMS (Ancient Relic Machines — basically guns from a lost era of greater technology).

Using both 2D sprites for exploration, and 3D rendered battle sequences, Wild Arms was an interesting transitional game between the 16- and 32-bit eras. Mostly it stands out for its compelling setting, however, fusing science and magic in a way reminiscent of — but also completely distinct from — Final Fantasy VI.

The Legend of Dragoon

Sony may have set unreasonable expectations for The Legend of Dragoon by marketing it initially as a “Final Fantasy Killer,” but this SCE-developed RPG has endured as a cult classic of the era. You play as Dart, an orphaned survivor of a destroyed city rescuing his childhood friend, kidnapped by a rebel army.

In typical genre fashion, he assembles a motley crew for a quest that spirals up to defeating a world-ending god of destruction. It fleshed out the typical turn-based combat with a system of combos and counter-attacks that added an interesting dimension of timing and risk/reward. While it never panned out into a franchise, it’s just as well-written and designed as many of its more widely beloved peers.

Legend of Legaia

While much of the flourishing RPG genre was simply following in Final Fantasy’s footsteps, Legend of Legaia had the hipster appeal of trying to do something different. The story was standard genre fare: A martial artist from a village at the edge of the world, you set out on a quest to beat back the Mist that has consumed the surface and spawned countless monsters, pushing humanity to the brink.

Legaia stood out for its combat system, which was turn-based but also heavily derived from fighting games. Rather than having a generic “fight” option in battles, players targeted different strikes as left, right, high, or low, chaining them together into increasingly elaborate combos as the game proceeded. It added a tactical richness to combat that few of its peers could match, and is a franchise worth re-examining.

Parasite Eve

Adapted from a popular, contemporary Japanese novel of the same name, Parasite Eve was a bit of a genre hybrid from developer Square. Equal parts action RPG and survival horror, it follows a New York City cop trying to stop an entity named Eve from destroying humanity through spontaneous combustion.

Like Square’s Vandal Hearts, it featured pausable real-time battles and the ability to target particular body parts, with abilities tied to the “Active Time Bar” (ATB) system pioneered in the studio’s Final Fantasy games. Critics praised its interesting and immersive design at the time, although its legacy was somewhat overshadowed by the more “pure” RPGs and survival horror games of the time, respectively. In retrospect, however, its infusion of RPG progression systems into a survival horror framework can be seen reflected in more modern games such as The Evil Within, although its pausable real-time combat has been less explored subsequently.

Shooters

Medal of Honor

Several years before the original Call of Duty kicked off the oversaturation of WW2 first-person shooters in earnest, Medal of Honor set the bar. Steven Spielberg developed the story, working with the same historical military consultants he collaborated with on Saving Private Ryan.

Where previous shooters had been relatively light-hearted affairs about blasting hordes of demons, Medal of Honor was one of the first serious, cinematic shooters that presaged future classics like Spec Ops: The Line by exploring the medium’s serious narrative potential. Critics and fans also praised its gameplay, however, as one of the most generally refined shooters released to date.

Sports

Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2

The original Tony Hawk Pro Skater was an enormous success when it launched in 1999, but it was the follow-up from the next year that truly cemented it as one of the most beloved sports franchises of all time. The action centered around arcade-style gameplay, with the player flipping and grinding over open levels to rack up as many points as possible from tricks and combos within two minutes.

Collectibles and level-specific objectives keep it spicy, and the addition of level- and skater-creation tools gave it a ton of replayability. The series continued through the ill-received Tony Hawk Pro Skater 5 in 2015, but for many, the second remains the definitive entry and still one of the most highly rated sports games of all time.

Madden NFL 98

1997 saw the Madden football franchise’s first stab at 3D with Madden Football 64, but for our money, the best sports game of the year was the less ambitious and far more refined Madden NFL 98. While other franchises made the leap to polygons, development efforts at Madden instead were focused between 97 and 98 on punching up the game’s artificial intelligence, which made this the most strategically sophisticated football game ever released at the time. As is often the case from this era of consoles, Madden NFL 98’s late 2D sprite graphics hold up better than the early efforts at 3D that followed it.

Strategy

Final Fantasy Tactics

FFT wasn’t the first tactical RPG to come out of Japan — the Shining Force and Ogre Battle series already broke that ground for western console audiences. It’s far and away the most beloved and influential one, however.

The series’ traditional linear battles of three to four party members lined up facing a few enemies. In turn, Final Fantasy Tactics opened up into a much richer, isometric, grid-based combat reminiscent of X-COM, with an elaborate job system allowing for deep, strategic party customization.

Set in the world of Ivalice (which was featured in later entries like FF12), it tells a mature tale of competing noble families, warring nations, and the intersection of church and state. Spin-off sequels for the Game Boy Advance were solid, but none ever quite captured the magic of the original.

Survival horror

Resident Evil 2

While the first Resident Evil is beloved for creating “Survival Horror,” Resident Evil 2 perfected the formula. It picks up two months after the events of the original, as the Umbrella Corporation’s zombie plague spreads from the company’s labs to nearby Raccoon City. Like the first game, it features two protagonists, puzzles, exploration, and limited resources for ammo and saving the game, forcing careful and strategic play.

It added the “Zapping System,” in which players could revisit scenarios multiple times as different characters, with unique challenges designed for each of them. Its presentation was also praised as improving upon the first game in virtually every way. Though the series has continued for decades — we’re up to Resident Evil 7 as of 2017 — many still consider the second the high watermark. Resident Evil 2 also received a stellar remake in 2019.

Silent Hill

The PlayStation’s 3D capabilities opened up a whole field of possibility for cinematic horror, which is why the survival horror genre was born on it. Where the early Resident Evil games relied more on jump scares and zombie movie tropes, Silent Hill took a decidedly more psychological and surreal approach.

You play as Harry Mason, searching for his daughter who goes missing in the creepy town of Silent Hill while passing through on vacation. The whole town was blanketed in a thick fog, cleverly utilized to cover for the system’s draw distance limitations, which gave the game a memorably menacing atmosphere, particularly when played alone and late at night.

Drawing from an interesting range of influences like Lewis Carroll and David Lynch, Silent Hill is seminal in establishing the subtler and more artistically interesting strain of psychological horror in video games.

Resident Evil

Released first in Japan as Biohazard, Resident Evil is Shinji Mikami’s genre-defining survival horror opus. Although not the first horror game, it exerted such a gravitational pull that, like shooters in the wake of Doom, any other entries in the genre were called an imitation for a while — and it’s still basically impossible to talk about survival horror without Resident Evil featuring prominently in the discussion.

You play as Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine, special forces units sent to investigate their missing teammates in a zombie-infested mansion on the outskirts of Raccoon City. It established the now-standard genre gameplay of careful exploration, puzzle solving, and resource management. Players remember it most fondly for its creepy atmosphere and unsettling presentation, however, making clever and efficient use of the hardware with 3D characters on pre-rendered backgrounds to achieve unprecedented immersion.

Dino Crisis

If you liked the survival horror stylings of Resident Evil auteur Shinji Mikami, but weren’t into zombies, Capcom still had you covered. Much of the same team including Mikami himself also developed Dino Crisis, a survival horror game set on a secret island research facility wherein genetically-revived dinosaurs run rampant, Jurassic Park-style. Capcom contrasted it with Resident Evil by marketing it as “Panic Horror” rather than survival, because of the emphasis on dinosaurs as a quicker and more aggressive/intelligent threat than zombies.

Unlike the pre-rendered backgrounds of its predecessors, Dino Crisis featured real-time 3D environments, adding to the sense of immersion. Although not quite as viscerally scary or enduring a franchise as Resident Evil, many felt that it improved upon those games in nearly every way, offering a tense, fun, and more consistently paced experience.

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[anemonensblog]

11(33) Questions meme

So I got tagged by @writsgrimmyblog quite a while ago, and didn’t get around to answering it since I was travelling, so got further tagged by @dictacontrion​ and @huldrejenta​. So this is very long. Hence the cut thing.

RULES:

- Always post the rules

- Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you

- Write 11 questions of your own

- Tag 11 people (or however many you want)

As for my questions, I’m tagging @eidheann, @dracogotgame, @capipuff, @awesomedig, @comingupwithusernamesishard, @noeeon, @i-didnt-wanna-do-it, @firethesound and then if you guys who tagged me wants to do my questions too, I wouldn’t mind readig your answers :D

@writsgrimmyblog​ asked:

1.       What’s your favourite quote from a book or poem? I'm not the best at picking out quotes and I've never been big on poetry, but Kate Tempest has some texts that really digs into my soul. Seeing her at the third biggest stage at Glastonbury, a spoken word artist drawing such a crowd - was pretty powerful. So I chose this quote from her 'Tunnel Vision':

"The myth of the individual has left us disconnected, lost, and pitiful" (which sounds a bit bleak, but the whole poem/album is really powerful, and it ends on a sort of hopeful note.)

2.       What song makes you want to dance like nobody’s watching? I only ever dance like nobody's watching :D latest to Pumarosa at their set at Glastonbury, and then to some pretty heavy techno waiting for Josefin Örn's set at the Glade. While I don't listen to it much on my own, nothing really makes me let loose and not give a shit like hard electronic music does wrt dancing.

3.       What’s your favourite ship to read? Currently Larry. Fic wise it's such a varied pairing to read - covering so many themes and settings - so I never manage to get tired of it. I also really love Tomlinshaw, but Drarry is always in my heart - my first and deepest fandom love.

4.       If you could own one item of clothing belonging to any celebrity what would you pick and why? Umm, is it weird to be in a celeb related fandom and say that I don't really pay that much attention to celebrities? I guess in the sense of overall style I usually like Kristen Stewart's choices and I'd probably be more than happy to wear her wardrobe at all times. But for a single item I'd probably go for one of Harry Styles's lush and luxurious and ridiculously expensive floral blouses and pair it with a pair of high waisted skinny jeans and my brogues.

5.       Gif with a hard or soft ‘g’? Well, as I usually pronounce file formats in Norwegian, the hard g is the only one that makes sense. I suppose we do have a version of soft g too, but that would make it yif, and that just sounds weird. So hard g it is!

6.       What’s your favourite fanfic ‘getting together’ trope? Hmm, does coming to terms with one's sexuality count as a getting together trope? That always hits me really hard and feels very emotional. Otherwise I guess friends to lovers and enemies to lovers, with loads of pining and ust.

7.       What’s your guiltiest pleasure? I'm not sure I actually have a really guilty pleasure? I used to watch a lot of Americas next top model, just because I loved seeing the process with the photo shoots, so maybe that's a little guilty with regards to how the modelling and fashion industry perpetuates some very unhealthy things.

8.       Most relatable 1D (or solo 1D) lyric? “If tomorrow you won’t be mine, won’t you give it to me one last time” JK LMAO but no one can convince me that song isn’t fucking hilarious. For real though, I’m more of a melody than lyrics kind of gal, so I’m not entirely sure? Maybe this one, for good luck, since I’m making some changes in my life (also bonus since they are Louis’ lines :D): “I think I'm gonna win this time, Riding on the wind and I won't give up, I think I'm gonna win this time, I roll and I roll, 'til I change my luck, I roll and I roll, 'til I change my luck”

9.       If you could give one piece of advice to a celebrity, what would it be? I don't necessarily feel like I have any good basis for giving advice to celebs, but I guess just remembering to keep a healthy perspective towards the world, and to use their platform for good. Their participation in politics and activism could do more good than I think a lot of them realise. (But stay informed and think before you speak.)

10.   Tell me your favourite joke. You know, I literally can’t think of a single joke. I guess I could search for some, but that would sort of belie the point.

11.   If you were famous for a day, what question would you most dread being asked during an interview? I think anything related to diet/workout routine/keeping my body in shape would make me feel really uncomfortable and objectified.

@dictacontrion​'s questions:

1.       If you could have one billion dollars or the not (or only incidentally) profitable superpower of your choosing, which would you choose and why? As my big dream/my favourite thing to do is travelling and seeing the world, my chosen superpower would probably be teleportation. BUT teleportation would still leave me with the issue of spending money and getting days off work (unless I used the teleportation for criminal purposes I guess). So I think I'd go for the billion dollars, which not only would enable me to travel as much and however I'd like, but is such a ridiculous amount of money that maybe I could use it to do some good in the world.

2.       What article of clothing makes you feel most awesome? The way I dress is incredibly dependent on my mood, but I guess maybe my denim shorts? Mostly because of the setting in which I would wear them. I love the feeling of warm air and sun on bare skin more than practically anything, so the few occasions where I'm able to wear my denim shorts I feel happy and awesome from the get-go :)

3.       How did you get into your most recent fandom? That must be the 1d fandom, so long story short: a 1d fanfic based m/m novel tickled my curiousity, Harry's 'not that important' even more so. Got recommended the fantastic gryles fic “If this is love” by sunsetmog which I read and adored, and diving deeper into sunsemog’s fics I then read “I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow” which till this day still stands as one of my fave ever fics. Then followed some arbitrary tumblr searching and blog following, and in time the rabbit hole that is Larry swallowed me hole and has failed to spit me back out.

4.       What’s your least favorite/most hated book, and why? I’m terribly impatient, so I don’t really finish stuff I don’t like? So I don’t really have that passionate bad feelings about any one book I’ve read. Read some 1800s Norwegian realism/naturalism literature in high school which at the time felt like a drag, but in hindsight I’m very happy I read. Moby Dick annoyed the hell out of me, and I gave up halfway through, but I still don’t hate it, I don’t think. So I don’t really know *shrugs*

5.       Describe a fanwork you’d love to read/see/watch, but don’t want to create yourself, please? Ummm, a long and plotty Ginny/Luna fic maybe. I’d love to read more femslash, but the fics I’ve seen out there are usually just little ficlet. And nothing against a good ficlet, but I’m longing to dive deep into a long and immersive wlw story. (Incidentally, if anyone have any such recs, be it fanfic or original fiction, I’d be happy to hear about it!)

6.       What would be the lineup of your ideal music festival? Ahhhh this is simultaneously the hardest and the best possible question for me!! Okayyy: Grimes, Years & Years, One Direction (ofc), Pumarosa, Arctic Monkeys, Lianne La Havas, Shura, The Shins, Loyle Carner, Wolf Alice, Ezra Furman, Lady Gaga and Rihanna (the two of whom I don't listen to much, but I think they'd bring some amazing pop flair), the Kills, Chvrches, All We Are, Warpaint, Tame Impala, Susanne Sundfør, Amason and then Katzenjammer for some fun nostalgia, ohh and Kate Tempest! and Charli XCX was a lot of fun and I wouldn’t mind seeing her again. ummm okay and then a club line-up for after hours with AlunaGeorge, Disclosure, Hot Chip, Roger Sanchez, Röksopp ft Robyn, Christine Dancke and Nick Grimshaw because why not ;) (And now I’ll probably go on to regret everyone I forgot to add)

7.       You’re given the power to unilaterally create one law or policy in one country - what is it? To nationalise all natural resources so their riches would benefit the people rather than a few rich private business owners and multinational corporations who are often not even based locally.

8.       If you had to commit to living in one place for the rest of your life, what would it be?  Part of me wants to say London, but I think realistically I'll have to choose Bergen (in Norway)<3

9.       Thinking about your life a year from now, what’s one thing that you hope will be different? I hope I’m no longer in this limbo between life phases and will have got to implement the changes I’m going for properly.

10.   What’s one thing that you hope will be the same? My relationship.

11.   What’s the last thing that made you laugh? Was out with some friends for beers last night, which included many laughs, but I can’t remember what in particular that made me laugh. I hang out with these people way to rarely. They’re such great people, and hanging out with them feels so relaxed.

And last but not least, @huldrejenta​‘s questions:

1. What was your favourite album as a teenager? Depends on when you asked me. If I was 13, probably “The Eminem Show”, but as a 17-year old, most definitely Arctic Monkeys’ “Whatever People Say I Am That’s What I’m Not” (which still stands as one of my all time favourites)

2. What’s your favourite album now? Pumarosa – “The Witch” – fantastic album, which I wholeheartedly recommend.

3. One pairing you’d love to have more fanfic/art about? As mentioned above, Ginny/Luna. But also more femslash in general would be pretty fantastic.

4. What’s your favourite villain in books and/or movies? I’m not a villain kind of lady, but maybe Umbridge? I don’t think anyone has ever given me as bad feelings as her, because she’s such a realistic villain in a lot of ways. She’s not caricature evil like Voldy or Sauron, but an everyday, self-involved, closed minded evil. And that’s a very effective kind of evil to hate.

5. Do you believe in supernatural phenomenons? No

6. You can have dinner with any person from history, who would you choose? This is kind of an impossible question. So many interesting persons through history. But, actually, I think I’d really have loved to have met my grandfather on my father’s side. My dad is quite old, so his dad was born in the late 1800s and died long before I was born, but he was a teacher and from the sound of it, incredibly foresighted and modern for a man of that time. Which are values he’s very much passed on to his sons. My dad is amazing. My grandfather was a teacher, and during the Nazi occupation of Norway during WW2, he was among those who lost their jobs because he refused to teach nazi ideology to his pupils. And this was in a small, working class industry town, and my dad has told so many fantastic stories about him. I’d love to have met him and talked to him.

7. Name three things you like about yourself :) While I’m pretty shy, I’m also kind of tough in some ways. I went to Japan without much of a plan and winged it as we went. I started playing rugby at age 27. I started singing in a choir I found by googling, where I didn’t know anyone. I wish that toughness spread to other sides of my life, but at least it’s something. I can sing, something which brings me immense joy. I have a pretty good memory, combined with wide spanning interests and curiosity, so I remember a lot of weird facts and random things.

8. Hogwarts era Drarry, yes or no? Depends. 8th year, post war/canon, yes. Canon divergence (other than ewe), mostly no.

9. What was the last thing you googled? The lyrics for some 1d songs for one of the questions further up :P

10. Favourite Harry Potter book? Hmmmmmmmmmm I don’t know? Maybe Prisoner of Azkaban? They’ve all had very profound effects on me though, so it’s like choosing a favourite child.

11. Favourite museum/gallery? I’ve seen a lot of amazing museum during my life, so that’s kind of impossible to answer as well. But maybe, for nostalgic reasons, Bryggens Museum in Bergen. Because my dad used to take me and my sister there sometimes during weekends when we were little, when my mum needed to sleep after a night shift at the hospital. And he’d tell stories and we’d look at the archaeological spots and the seasonal exhibits, and we’d get soda and cake in the museum café.

My questions:

1.     Do you have a song stuck in your head right now? Which one?

2.     Do you have any plans in the foreseeable future that you’re looking forward to?

3.     What’s your favourite place inside your house/flat?

4.     What hobbies do you have outside of fandom?

5.     Do you speak any languages besides your own?

6.     What’s the best concert you’ve ever been to?

7.     If you could meet the leader of your country and tell them whatever you wanted, and be guaranteed they’d listen to you, what would you say?

8.     What movie did you watch over and over as a child, and what was your favourite thing about it?

9.     What’s your favourite thing about each season through the year?

10. If you were to get a pet tomorrow, what would you call it and why?

11. How did you discover fanfiction?

[hikarain]

Nothing Away

Series: Overwatch

Pairing: Boombox (Junkrat x  Lúcio)

Chapters: 10/10

Words: 10.835

Subject: sligthly alternated universe in which a fanboy Junkrat fucks everything up.

Check it also on AO3

@scarecroweyes wanted me to publish this so here it is :)  It’s a ten-chapters-long fic that will probably either make you squeal or cringe or both so be prepared. Last warning, I like streams of thoughs.

Chapter 1  

On that day I was strolling downtown, enjoying the view of happy children playing football in the empty dusty street. Seeing such innocent fun delighted me: they were so free and beautiful. A white truck was trying to make its way on that road, so I stepped in and made the children move. As I did that, the driver lowered the window and thanked me, a really heavy accent marking his words. He then drove by, showing me a logo I could never forget: Vishkar Corporation. It was a powerful multinational; why would such corporation wander the suburbs like that? At the time I didn’t have any clues. I didn’t like Vishkar, their methods to improve the quality of life in big cities weren’t my cup of tea, everything they did was so … perfect… it looked like a miracle. And I am not the type to believe in miracles easily. Music can at times bring joy to a sorrowful heart, but it can’t last forever. It was almost fishy how each place they visited turned into a paradise overnight. Were they in Rio for that same goal then? Suspicious how they had just one truck, how could they build buildings with just that? Something clung to the hem of my pants, a gentle pull.    "Lúcio, wanna play with us?“ I patted the child’s head and nodded. His eyes lit up as he beamed proudly his young smile.    "Sure, champion!”

The sunset began to steal the light, so I led the children to their houses; the street was not a good place for children at night, so I always made sure they were home safe. Carrying his dirty ball in his hands, one of them was bragging about some tricks he pulled off in game, others were playfully telling him to shut up; I only laughed at the scene: it was such a peaceful view. There really was no place like that in the entire world. I was sure of that. No matter how shiny the big city behind those little shaggy houses looked, the warm lights turned that dirty view into a home to return to at dusk, our home.

Each of the families I visited that night asked me to stay for dinner, how nice of them to think of me, but I too had a place to be. I had a concert planned for later that evening: it was a small party, the owner of the local asked me, as a regular, to perform for the guests and hopefully attract more costumers from outside. I gladly agreed to help, but I had no expectation of drawing any crowd; I only played music to lift the burdens of my people, I thought I had not that much skill to pull a career out of it. I made my way in the club.    "Chief, I’m here!“    "Oh, thank you very much, Lúcio. Make yourself at home!” I put my portable console on the counter and stretched my arms, a bit soar from carrying it around all day. I quickly installed it and set the speakers around the dance floor, checked the lights and the quality of the audio; it wasn’t the best, but for a raw space like that it was already something. The party started and just as the owner thought, many people came to the bar, filling each corner just to listen to my music. Both from the favela and the town, some of them were complete strangers to me. However it was my people that made the night great, they sang, they danced and called my name: all of my work paid off at least. Their happiness was all I wanted, their cheerful voices were all I cared about. Too bad the children were home, but I can always play for them at daytime. As the clock hit three in the morning, the club owner signalled me to stop the music, marking the end of my concert. I thanked everyone for their presence that night and waited for those who wanted an autograph or a picture. I smiled in all of those, strangers or not, my music made their life better even if just a tiny bit and I was proud of that. One of the last to come up to me was quite the particular fellow, his expression stuck between embarrassment and happiness as I shook his hand and posed for the picture his friend took. I was sure he was from outside the favela, but his appearance was not suitable for the town… I couldn’t imagine such a person around the streets of any city, let alone a big one like Rio. I realized he had to be a tourist when he started speaking in English to me; or what I thought was English, he had such a weird accent it was difficult to understand all of his words. His clothes were baggy and badly kept, stains of dirt on the knees and elbows. They both left after another powerful handshake, he laughed his way out while staring at the screen he took the picture with.

Chapter 2

Rio stipulated a contract with Vishkar that day. They made it public around noon and a few hours later agents and architects were all over the place, scanning each alley and corner of my suburb. I did not like that idea, strangers wandering around, claiming to be protectors and saviours… however, my people had faith in them, so I gave them a chance: everyone deserved it. The next day I received a call from one of Vishkar’s employees. With her mechanical voice she asked me if I needed a job and told me to go to their closest branch office. I had been in need of an actual job for a long time, all I did in the last couple of years was working as a freelancer dj or as handyman for the families of my favela. I didn’t swim in gold, but I wasn’t exactly poor either, not compared to my people. The Omnic Crisis hit Brazil’s economy so hard, the situation only began to worsen for us; as the city grew bigger, finally surpassing the Crisis, the favelas around it only grew poorer and poorer… but my people chose to believe in the opportunities Vishkar offered and I wanted to trust their decision. I entered the branch office, a tall dark-skinned woman greeted me with an elegant bow.    "Welcome to Vishkar Corporation, I suppose you are here for the jobs we are currently offering the people of this city.“    "Thank you for your offer, I am desperate for a job right now.” I laughed it off, the woman only chuckled. “What kind of job is this?”    "You see, we are working on developing Rio de Janeiro for the better, new instalments, buildings, roads and public transports. We have plans for a brighter future, but we need help with handwork.“    "Handwork? And here I thought you architects could build everything with a snap of your fingers…”    "Not all architects are like that. Are you willing to work with us?“ My first job was driving one of their trucks to the other side of the town to collect the materials they needed. It was a relaxing trip, I also managed to put on some good tunes instead of those old noises the radio used to pump. I could have worked with that job just fine, but as soon as I delivered the materials they told me I had to help with the building next. Too bad. That time it was draining, I struggled so much with all those heavy pillars and concrete blocks, my sweat was sticking to my skin along with the dust. The people that were working in-group with me were on the brick of collapsing too. All of this while two of the architects watched from afar, all elegant in their white attires… At the end of that exhausting day at least I got to retrieve my payment… it was so little it didn’t even cover dinner.    "Excuse me, with all the work we’ve done, is this really it?” They closed the door to my face after telling me to return the day after for other jobs. My co-workers and I looked at each other, our grips firm on the envelope with our salary.    "It is just the first day, tomorrow we’ll get more!“ A cheerful man smiled and put the envelope in his large pockets.    "He’s right, Lúcio!” A man around my age patted my back. “Also, it is the first job we get in a long while, we should appreciate that.”    "Guess it must be like you say then.“ I barely muttered… I wanted to trust those smiles: it was just the first day, a test to see if we could really help them. After all, they wanted to make Rio great again, the favelas too. Maybe they were really going to make miracles happen. The sunset turned the sky orange fast that day, the children still playing in the streets began to pick up their toys. I walked up to them and they ran to me, giggling and waving without a single worry in the world. I had been starting to think: the streets weren’t a safe place in the dark hours ever since the crisis, but now it was over, right? I grew up stuck in my house, I was really upset when I couldn’t get to finish a match against my friends… those trivial things could matter again finally. With the help of Vishkar our home could finally become the safe place we wanted. I smiled at the children, picking the youngest girl up and tickling her.    "I don’t want to look too much ahead, but I believe that in little time you guys will be able to play all you want.”    "Really?“ They jumped happily when I nodded grinning. The streets were going to be well-lit by Vishkar technology, some agents were going to patrol at night, just to make sure nothing happened and maybe we could finally be paired with Rio, not just as its slums. While I was strolling around I spotted some Vishkar agents. They were armed…    "You over there!” I halted immediately and pointed at myself confused.    "Yes you! What are you doing outside? Go back home right now!“ I apologised by instinct and headed straight home with swift steps. I noticed they kept on following me until I finally locked myself in my house.    "This is no good…”

Weeks went by and… none of our expectations were met. All Vishkar Corporation cared about was the quick development of Rio, all they did was exploit what they could to achieve it. None of that was according to the promises they made, living in the favela was hard as ever before. Curfews had always been a thing, but only for young children, now no one could walk the streets at night. I thought it was going to be the other way around, but it is not. Their controls are so strict on us, we can’t live a single day without being beaten up for no reason, some of our behaviours were called lawless, our morals unfitting of a civilized world. Our salary didn’t grow any higher, we were fighting to stay alive more than ever. We had no money to eat, we had no permission to leave the favela, we could not get another job… we were just like prisoners… I couldn’t even play my music anymore because it didn’t suit the project they had for the town. How dared they say that when music was the only thing that, even for just those few minutes, had already saved my people from despair so many times?

I was sick of that.

We grouped up one afternoon at my pals’ house, we organized a way to show Vishkar who they were trying to submit. We were forced to work on their technologies, those the architects used to create shapes and buildings, instalments and so on. We had no idea how that light technology worked, we never got an answer when we asked, but we knew where it was stored. After all, we were the ones securing them. For a few days we planned our actions step by step, I spoke up for most of the people in the meeting and volunteered to take the lead of the main action. We were ready to take over.

Chapter 3

I admit we infiltrated Vishkar, we did revolt and we did damaged their facility, but I’ll never accept the crime of stealing. Their technology was the result of the hard work of my people, it was ours by right. When we got back to our base, everyone called my name as if I was some kind of hero to their eyes. I was no hero, I barely shouted orders, but I wanted to keep fighting for them. We improvised a concert that night, Vishkar could not stop us anymore; they were already driven out of our favela. Music was such a gift to our souls, our minds were at peace again, my fingers felt light as I scratched the console. I turned up the volume, everyone danced, children and adults alike: it was not a miracle, it was pure freedom, finally.

What happened after was a disastrous turn of events. The night tasted like burning wood and metal, a terribly hot night with screaming echoing in its silence. A fire, all over the place. And everything was a mess. I did all I could to help my family, their screaming killed me, but I too was shouting, shouting for them to hear me over the noisy bursting of flames. Everything turned against us in such a short amount of time.

No victims at least, but so many were harmed and burnt so badly their faces were unrecognisable. In the past I had carried many children in my arms to help them, but never were they so weak, so powerless. Their homes were turning to ashes with little hope to be saved from the ferocious flames. I was dying inside, while on the outside I had to stay calm and think about what to do next, quick and precise. My people… my family needed me more than ever. We managed to evacuate everyone thanks to the help of the young adults, but we ended up out of our favela, out of the city. There was no place for us to return. I couldn’t do anything more than that… I was weak. I let myself fall to the ground, hateful tears staining my face. That caught attention. I didn’t want them to see me like that; it was all my fault, it was my fault they lost everything they had. Had I been stronger they would have been unharmed, had I been smarter they would have been evacuated more efficiently, had I been braver they wouldn’t have had to suffer. Young men and women walked up to me, patted my back and forced me back on my feet. My tears already dried out, but my red eyes gave my feelings away.    "Forgive me, it’s my fault…" One of the oldest of the group sighed loudly, watching closely each of my drained expressions. Another man came up shortly after.    "It is not, youngling. Our bodies are doing fine but… Do us all a favour, mind playing some tunes for our sad souls?“    "We could always use some good music.” They lifted me up and punched my chest in a friendly way. I clenched my fist on my chest, where his had had hit. They were right. I quickly set up the console and gears, pumping up all the music I could think of. No matter what happened before, no matter what will happen in the future, there was always something we could all believe in. There was always that special gift to everyone: music. I thanked all of them that night; I played for them until it was daytime, we partied like we were free and happy like we used to, the flames in the background slowly fading in black dust. We had no home, but we had each other.

Few weeks after that terrible nightmare, just like in a badly scripted movie, we were all back to our daily life, back in our houses with little to no motivation. They were not our old homes, but new ones the architects of Vishkar created for us. We were so lucky to have them… not. It was them. They were behind it all. Their impossible utopia was all they cared about, not about our lives, our homes… just about that monstrous imaginary world they built for themselves in their rotten brains. Burn down a favela just to rebuild it to your likings? Why didn’t they just tell us to evacuate then? Why did they put so many lives on the line? They were barbarians, crazy psychopaths. Not only were they back in our favela, but their controls were as strict as ever. It was hard. However, even in the worst situation, I did have some luck; my name spread across the country along with my tapes after the night we infiltrated Vishkar. People contacted me to play in their locals, concerts, they wanted more of my inspiring music… inspiring, just as it should be. Did I have the right to neglect my people for my career? I thought I didn’t, but everyone pushed me to go for it. They promised they would not give up, that they would support me and remember their freedom. So I started my journey, a lonely long journey, taking with me what I didn’t want Vishkar to have back.

Chapter 4

   "Man, ain’t this Lúcio the best thing in the world!“ The big guy sighed through his gas mask.    "Y'right, who ‘m I kidding, explosions come first.” At the time I was working on a new type of concussion mine, all while listening to some appealing elevator noises. ‘Hog told me the music was too loud, but I was deaf and I wanted to listen to it, so I didn’t care. “I remember when I first saw him, that frog boy.” ‘Hog tossed me a screwdriver I really didn’t need, but I kept it next to me just to be sure.    "Really? Am I really that predictable?“ I looked at him a bit shocked, usually he would enjoy my conversation topics, not tell me to change so quickly. "Though y’ liked him too, mate.”    "What d’you mean not in the same way I do? What other ways are there to like someone? No, now y’explain! Don’t go in the garage, y’know I don’t have my peg on right now! Come back ya cunt!“ I tried to crawl my way and follow him, but the wires of the mines were too much of an obstacle to overcome. I just laid on my stomach, growling annoyed by the rude interruption. I got up and threw away the mine, which exploded in the back of the garden, but it didn’t matter, it was already a dump as it was. I reached for my peg leg, I wasn’t wearing it because I had been fixing it earlier, I got up and headed inside the garage, our temporary base. ‘Hog was turning down the volume of the music, That made me mad.    "I told ya I don’t give a shit about your sissy hearing! I want to hear the basses!” Grumping and snorting, I hit him in his fat belly with my metal arm. I knew that must have hurt him! But he punched me to the ground with little to no efforts and told me to shut up.    "Roger that…" There I was again, lying on the floor face down. Why did I even bother to get up again? At least from this position I could still hear my favourite funky noises. Dunno why they were so addictive, they just turned me up. And that little Brazilian frog, he did turn me up as well… or on… not sure which one it was anymore.    "’Hog, me man, where is the picture again?“    "Gotcha, and where’s my phone?”    "In my pants that are…?“    "Of course I know I’m wearing ‘em, shuddup!” I took the phone out of my pocket and quickly headed to the gallery, just so I could see the picture one more time. I loved that picture, each little pixel of it. It was from that time when me and the big guy were in Rio just chilling and got to hear Lúcio’s music for the first time. He even shook my hand! Can’t believe a music star touched a hand of a mercenary like me. On a second point though, we weren’t really chilling, more like working. I won’t go too much in detail, but a certain corporation may or may not have asked us junkers to find a way to quickly burn to the ground a large stock of houses and buildings. Well, unfortunately, we didn’t get to see them burn up, since they only wanted us to provide the otherwise too-suspicious-for-such-a-corporation amount of explosive needed. They told me it was to get rid of the old buildings of the town to build new ones, a totally legit work for once, it felt weird. And I didn’t even get to see the explosion, what a waste of time and bombs. It’s been quite some years since that time though, man I even had all of my hair in that picture! Where did my hair go? I miss it… Hog came back and smacked me on the head with a newspaper. I was about to shout at him, but he shoved it in my face and left again. Did I have to look at that? How pushy of him, honestly… I did just that anyways and oh boy I had to read it again and again to believe it.    "He’s coming here! ‘Hog! ‘Hog! He’s coming here!“ I ran to the door, only to meet face-first my mate’s giant hand. "The frog boy!!” It was such a coincidence for us to be in the UK too! He was going to be there!! I was excited, maybe I could see him again… He looked at me, his eyes dead serious.    "Do you want to go?“ I nodded my head frenetically at his question, my eyes sparkling with expectations. I fidgeted at the idea of meeting Lúcio again. The big guy sighed loudly.

Chapter 5  

It wasn’t really planned, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle. We stood near the backdoor entrance of the coolest, most expensive-looking club of the entire town, the one and only place were the frog was going to show off his new hits. We were hiding in the shadows, waiting for the prey to… there he was! Holy dooley was he more handsome in person and so short and he looked so nice and his smile and and and… Hog smacked me in the back of my head to bring me back to earth. He was right, we had a plan. Why was he alone anyways? Not even a bodyguard? What if a gang of dirty creeps tried to kidnap him?! What if we were those creeps?! … we were those creeps. I took a step forward, preventing him from reaching the doorknob.    "G'evening! Lúcio, am I right?” He stared at me unimpressed. He was so short… not even reaching my shoulder. That was adorable?!    "In the flesh, what can I do for you?“    "Y'know, me and me friend here were wondering if you’d let us kidnap ya.” His expression didn’t change one bit, his happy smile still on his dorky face. So adorable?!    "Usually you ask for autographs, not kidnapping.“ He laughed it off, probably thinking I was joking. "Are you two fans? Got no tickets for the show?”    "No tickets, mate, we were just prancing around, checking out… the scenery…"    "Well… this is just a badly-lit alley, but I guess it can have its charm.“    "Agree! The rubbish bins and the greens from that neon over there just add that atmosphere, right?” At that moment I could hear Hog just sighing a “what even is this conversation”, to which I answered with a glare. That was my first actual conversation with frog boy and he was not going to ruin it! I turned back to Lúcio and he was chuckling… I panicked.    "The show is packed, but I guess I could let you in at least if you want to listen to the concert. I can’t just leave out two fans like this.“ That would have been nice! But that was not the point!    "No, no, y’got the wrong idea, mate! We’re here to actually kidnap ya!”    "We are here for the concert.“ Hog spoke up, a hand on my head, pushing it down, forcing me to show an apologetic behaviour. Lúcio smiled again.    "You almost scared me there, I can’t miss a concert for charity, especially around this time of the year.” He was worried about charity after a threat like that? What even was wrong with this bloke’s moral code?! Gosh his smile was the most sunshine-like thing ever… I bit my lip, unable to stop the staring. What were we doing there again?    "Am I bothering ya? Sorry about that mate…" He chuckled again, something inside me began to tick, it felt just like the sound of a timer… it felt nice and warm and ready to explode.    "Not at all, thank you for the distraction, I was actually really tense before meeting you.“ Well, I was the one that was tense now. He… he… he… ‘Hog hit me again in the back of my head. I scanned the area, trying to focus my eyes on something different, which happened to be his hair: it looked so soft to the touch…    "Y’re welcome…” I reached for the back of my head, scratching it to distract myself, pretty sure the feeling didn’t match the view though, my hair was dry and ruined. “You should get going then, y'know, to your charity and stuff…” He took out his phone, or what I though was a phone, it was a brand new model, unlike my old one, and checked the time.    "I was early anyway. What are your names? I can give them to the staff and let you in.“ Think fast, think fast, think fast! Faster! You don’t have all day!    "J-Jamie!” I spit out. “And my friend here’s Mako.” Lúcio tapped something on the screen and nodded.    "Mako and Jamie, got it. I’ll forward your names right away.“ He nodded happily while messing with his phone. A few seconds after he received a reply. "Alright, you can enter.” He beamed a smile and a thumb up, but I was too hyped about him calling me by name.

  “Do you think he recognised me?” We walked in the club, following one of the bodyguards. I was still excited and trembling, a big smile crawling on my face. ‘Hog shook his head no, pointing at my face.    "C’mon! My face is not that easy to forg-… oh… y'right…" I had been wearing a disguise all day long. I suddenly felt sad, a empty feeling of empty emptiness in my chest. I was wearing a hat, a scarf, glasses and all that shit… he couldn’t possibly have recognised me… The big guy patted me on the back, pulling me with him inside the room where Lúcio was about to perform. There I was though, standing proudly right under that hyper frog. And that was the second time! And then there was my favourite song! And his eyes were so focused but so carefree and his hands worked so intently on that console! I couldn’t stop staring at him. Had I been lucky? Yes, I had. Was that luck going to take me any further? I doubted it. I decided to watch quietly, only bouncing and tapping my feet to the rhythm. Boy, were they the best elevator noises in the whole world… at a certain point he also sang! He sang! And he waved at me during a short break! Well… he waved in my general direction… but he waved at me! I was burning inside, but it wasn’t the usual explosive… it was gentler…    "’Hog, can we-“    "No.”    "Gotcha.“ Kidnapping was not in my mate’s plans apparently. But I wanted him so bad… screw that! If Hog wasn’t with me, I would have done it myself! … after the end of the concert, because that shit was amazing to watch.

Hours later we left the club, my mind, my ears and my eyes still in utter bliss for the performance. I probably also agreed to donating something to charity in that mental state, but fuck it I was too happy to care. I felt my cheeks hurting for the huge smile on my face but I didn’t give a care. Right when I though the day couldn’t turn any better, someone poked my shoulder, by the size of the hand it couldn’t be ‘Hog. I turned quickly and I froze.    "Did you enjoy the concert? I saw you made donations, I wanted to thank you.” The frog boy in the flesh, again, in front of me, alone… my heart!! I cracked a smile and nodded my head, trying to at least answer his question despite my panic. He beamed a grin, his eyes half-closed. I could not stand that anymore.    "Stop being so cute or I’ll kidnap you!“ He halted for a minute and then laughed my threat off, again. Why wouldn’t he believe me?! I was a wanted criminal, with a 25 million dollars bounty on my head! I was in a disguise but it didn’t matter, how was I not fishy to his eyes?! I stared at him confused, ‘Hog just ready to snap me out of it, but Lúcio spoke up.    "There you go again with the kidnapping, you know, there are other ways to ask a guy out…” Ask out? …ask… him… out? Did he thought…?    "You got it wrong, mate! I… I just…" Why wouldn’t Hog help me?! I was a mess in that moment and he was just standing there, laughing behind that mask of his without the slightest care! I was embarrassing myself in front of the frog and he was not helping! Oh, I was going to punch that smirk out of his face, oh, yes I was! But first, I had a little stuttering to deal with.    "I-I j-just really like y-yo-your m-music…" Lúcio smiled again, taking a step closer to hear my voice, which was slowly getting lower and lower. “Y-y’re great…”    "Thanks!“ He was a sunshine… a total pure ray of sunshine, beaming in my face and torturing me with its heath. My face was burning, probably my expression was both tense and awkward, my lips stuck on a forced smile and my eyes wide open behind the fake lenses of the glasses of my disguise. I scratched the back of my head clumsily, almost getting my prosthesis stuck in the wool of my hat.    "Seriously though,” I regained my cool, just that little bit to speak without stuttering, my cheeks were still flaming hot. “can I kidnap ya?” I turned to face ‘Hog, who just facepalmed with no respect. How dare he?! I was being serious there!    "I don’t have that much time, unfortunately.“ His voice sounded really apologetic, his eyes never losing mine. "The tour and stuff, I’m just packed, man…”    "Oh… I see, that’s unfortunate, mate…"    "I can give you my number though, let’s meet up some other time.“ He handed me a slip of plasticised paper, there was a number, a signature and a doodled frog on it. An autograph… his number… still he couldn’t be kidnapped… too bad… wait.    "Hold on, why am I asking for permission?!” He blinked confused.    "Well, because that’s what you do when you ask someone out?“    "I’m not asking anyone out! Ya got it all w-” In that moment ‘Hog stopped being a silent wallpaper and he smacked me.    "We are going home.“    "What?!”    "Now.“ He grabbed me by my scarf and pulled with all of his might, I was choking, but the view I had made it impossible for me to die; Lúcio was smiling cheerfully, a hand holding his stomach, holding back the laughter. He was so… so… I was speechless.    "Call me, ‘kay, Jamie?” I thought I could not die watching him, but he was breathtakingly handsome. He winked when I nodded in response and then he left to go back in the club.    "'Hog… I got his number…"    "I’m glad.“ I stared at the slip of paper, my hand trailing to the phone in my pocket. I grabbed it and sent a text to that number saying it was me. I got an almost immediate response.

-          Got you saved :)

My body just melted, the big guy just carrying me over his shoulder. Was that day a miracle? How did that happen?! I witnessed a miracle. A damn miracle I tell you!    "I fucking love him.”

Chapter 6  

So apparently we were requested for some other legit job, that was weird. What was weirdest though was the fact that we had been hired by the same corporation of some years ago, the one that wanted to blow up the city… what was it called again? Vikar? Fishkar? Whatevikar? On the phone they told me the needed about the same amount of explosive as last time but the order was due in three days… who did they think we were, bombs dispensers?! They don’t grow on threes yet, but apparently they didn’t know. Both me and ‘Hog worked hard though, we wanted all those juicy bucks. So we pulled a couple all-nighters and finished the job on time. In the morning we were in charge of moving it from our basement to their warehouse. Luckily for us our crime-spree brought us to a city really close to their headquarters, so we could easily deliver the bombs. We put them all in the back of our car and we sped through the streets, trying to meet the deadline; I might be a criminal, but I sure ain’t late. We reached the warehouse in little time, dropped the bombs, got our bucks and left, smooth as silk. Now we had a couple thousands of dollars to use and no one was going to stop us… except a call on my phone.    "Hold your horses, 'Hog! It’s the frog boy!“    "You are driving.”    "Hold my horses then!“ I let go of the steering wheel and answered the call, striking an ever so sensual pose. Roadie just launching himself to hold the wheel for me, ready as usual.    "G’day, Lúcio!”    "Hello! You free right now, Jamie?“ I was always free for him, what kind of question was that?! In that moment more than ever.    "Sure thing, cobber, what’s up? Dinner?”    "I actually need help…" I sat straight up hearing those words and his worried tone. He asked me if we were anywhere nearby him because he was in real need in that moment. Ever so lucky, we were, just a few kilometres away, nothing a car ride couldn’t fix. Man, what was that period and crime-sprees in convenient locations? We headed to his location immediately… then I realised.    "Wait, do we have our disguises with us?“ ‘Hog shook his head and ordered me to take control of the car because his back was starting to hurt for the position he was forced in. No disguise was no good, what if he didn’t recognise me?! What would he think if he found out that I looked completely different?! What if he found out I had little hair?! I kept on driving while my mind just turned blank.

   "Jamie, Mako?” I scratched the back of my head at his confused expression but then shrugged it off playfully. I stepped into the luxurious hotel room.    "We kind of survived a nuclear war, it’s fine though.“    "You look rad as hell, I love that!” Lúcio’s eyes lit up as he high-fived both me and ‘Hog, his smile so pure it could have killed me. I noticed only in that moment that he too was dressed differently: a gear on his legs, a really weird backpack and an even weirder… gun? What even was that hanging from his belt? It was connected to a band on his arm with a plastic tube… but it didn’t look rudimental at all, more like a really thought out weapon. What the hell was that?! Did it explode?! Hopefully it did! I pointed at it, waiting for him to answer.    "This gun? Just the power of music, man.“    "Too bad, it needs more boom!” He laughed at my comment and pointed it to my face with a swift movement. He pulled the trigger, a loud noise coming out of the gun, and I found myself against a wall, my ears ringing a bit. A couple glasses nearby broke for the impact of the sound wave.    "It can’t boom, but it can boop.“ That was cool. I was deafer than usual, but that was cool!    "So, frog boy, what d’you need us two for? Something to blow up?” He sighed and shook his head.    "Quite the opposite actually, I need to stop Vishkar from blowing up large part of this city.“ That was a shame. Wait… Vishkar…?    "Who again, mate?”    "Vishkar Corporation. They plan on burning the suburbs of this town to ashes so that they can rebuild them to their likings.“ I glanced at ‘Hog, waiting for his opinion on the matter… I swore that was the name of the company we delivered the bombs to that very same day… As expected, we both understood that that was going to be a sticky situation to be in.    "I… I dunno, mate, I mean… Vishkar’s a big corporation with loads of bucks and stuff..”    "I have money too and I know you two are mercenaries, I want your help.“ That was quite the shock. How did he…?! His expression as serious as ever, his eyes injected with that slight hint of revenge. What did Vishkar even do to him? He looked hot as hell like that though.    "How did you know we were mercenaries?” Roadie asked the question for me, I could feel his uneasiness.    "Do you really think I wouldn’t recognise the faces of the two wanted criminals Junkrat and Roadhog?“ He smirked at us and handed me a check. Those were a lot of money. "I am not asking this as friends. I need help and my people aren’t anywhere close at the moment.” He offered me his hand, a serious look directed to the both of us. I gulped, quite surprised by his behaviour.    "Why should we, uh?“    "For all the times I could have called the police but didn’t because I enjoy your company. Deal?”    "Well then, ya could’ve said so sooner.“ Was that going to be a terrible decision? Hell yes. Was I going to leave Lúcio alone? Hell no. I grabbed his hand, gave it a tight squeeze and shook it, he did the same, the most conscious grin plastered on his lips. He did the same to Hog and we all started working on a plan. Who was going to tell frog boy that we worked for that corporation ourselves? Sure as hell not me.

Chapter 7

The three of us were driving toward the warehouse of Vishkar, Mako on the wheel and Jamie sitting in the back next to me. We knew its location thanks to some of my contacts in the city. Jamie was staring at me but I couldn’t really grasp what he could have been thinking. His eyes were empty… they were actually creeping me out.    "Man, can you quit the staring? You know I don’t mind but…” He blinked a dozen times before finally jumping awake from his coma-like state. He excused himself and turned his eyes to the road. The sun was about to set, we had to arrive at that place before it was too late, I knew they were going to act once everyone was sleeping. They did that one too many times for me to forgive them, I will not let another suburb share the same fate as my favela. I received the alert from one of my companions, but he couldn’t make it to the actual action so I was in need of a couple more hands. That’s why I thought of Jamie and Mako; Junkrat and Roadhog that is: they were both friends and mercenaries, there was no reason for them to not help me if they were to be payed. A hand touched my shoulder, I looked up to find Jamie eyeing me weirdly… again.    "Yes?“    "There is something I want to tell ya, but also I don’t want to…” Usually he would make more sense, I swear he had really incredible conversations… or at least incredible attempts at flirting with me. Maybe it just wasn’t the day. I had noticed there was something wrong with him, but I didn’t want to stress him about it; now though he was just rubbing that feeling in my face and I had to ask.    "You have been acting weird today, something’s up, Jamie?“ He hesitated in his answering, his finger pointing at nothing and closing on itself soon after. He scratched the back of his head.    "I just want to get this shit done with already.”    "I wish it would just end here…" They weren’t going to stop. They were to stubborn to understand the meaning of freedom: anarchy is how they call it, disorder, madness, hypocrisy, not suited for a civilized world… I wish they would open their eyes. I am not just assuming their thoughts, during one of my tours I met a woman. She was young and elegant, a beautiful pearl of the east, her hair long and silky, her movements clean and sensual… but in her head, she was brainwashed. She rambled about a perfect world, she spoke nonsense, she believed in crazy ideals. She believed in Vishkar. I tried to convince her, but she too was just as stubborn. Her name was Satya, she told me when I met her, never thought we would come to hate each other. I had to stop Vishkar not only for my people, not only for the freedom of society, but also for people like her. I will free them from that prison of a belief.    "Did Vishkar do something to ya, mate? Y’re looking pretty angry there…" I realised only in that moment that I never told those two what happened to me, even though I had known them for roughly two years now… It was weird how quickly I grew attached to those two, they were out of their minds most of the time… well, Jamie was at least, and they couldn’t give a single care about what happened around them. I loved how they could just shrug off any restriction. I am sure that it’s also thanks to them that I am going head first in this mission of mine: reckless, but free. I must admit that meeting them had really changed me. I was scared at first, I immediately recognised the faces of the two wanted criminals when they first approached me, but somehow the situation worked itself out that night. Now I had two awesome pals I could count on in need. Them being there in that moment… it must have been a little miracle. A little one. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms while speaking.    "They did what I am trying to prevent now. Years ago, before my debut, they burned to the ground my favela just so that they could rebuild it anew according to their standards. Many of my people… my family, risked their lives, children were injured and burnt, their young faces forever scarred by the flames.“ I tightened the grip on my arm, rage and fury trying to get a hold of my brain. "I will never forgive them.” That was all I was going to tell the two, but I didn’t get the reaction I expected… actually, I didn’t really get one: Mako was quietly driving, Jamie was just staring at the horizon, his eyes wide open; he really was making me worried. He was silent for about a minute then he lowered his head.    "That sucks, frog boy.“    "But it won’t happen again.” Right as I said that, Mako stopped the engine and got off the car, Jamie and I followed soon after. At that point, I took the lead and started to scan the area by wallriding. I quietly made my way in the warehouse; no guards seemed to be on duty, weirdly enough. I returned to my companions reporting the situation.    "Maybe they’re hiding!“ Jamie laughed maniacally and grabbed his frag launcher with both hands. "Might as well flush ‘em out, am I right?” Mako held firmly his gun as he stepped forward, he said he was going to test the ground for us. After a couple minutes of searching, still no employee or guard to be seen… why would Vishkar leave a whole warehouse, the one in which they stocked their materials, completely unprotected?    "Last time it wasn’t this quiet…" I jumped on another wall and got another higher view of the area: empty. Jamie followed me with his eyes.    "Last time?“ I landed on a metal box, it was shining in little blue lights, probably used to mark its position.    "When I entered Vishkar back in Rio, there was a high level of security, guards and alarms both, but there’s nothing here.” Jamie laughed again, but it was more of a nervous giggle. He scanned the area quickly, his body twitching with every movement. Mako was keeping an eye on him too; we were both worried apparently. I jumped down back on their level and patted Jamie on the back, concern in my voice.    "You okay, man?“ He stared at me for a couple second before turning roughly and pointing towards the far back of the warehouse.    "There’s nothing here, the bombs must be in a room over there!” I skated ahead, not wanting to lose more time, but I was soon halted by a number of doors. There were sentries, finally a layer of security. Before I could say anything, I saw something flying toward the doors, quickly followed by a loud and flashy explosion: the sentries were destroyed. Jamie threw a mine at them apparently.    "Thank you!“    "No problem, let’s just end this.” He then kicked one of the doors open with no sign of doubt… he looked really aware of the layout of the place. When I spotted the incredible amount of explosive in the room we entered I almost fell to the ground. Vishkar was ill.  While I was lost in my hate, Jamie and Mako just walked to the bombs and started messing with them… only in that moment I noticed something, something I wish I hadn’t. I grabbed one of the bombs and looked at it with care. There was a smiling face on them, one I can easily recognise.    "Jamie…"    "I’ll be done in a sec, mate.“ I was already mad enough, my face was unable to show any kind of emotion in that moment and my chest felt cold. I gripped the bomb, grinding my teeth in anger. I shouldn’t have shouted, they were trying to help me. I shouldn’t have attacked them, they had changed their mind. But what kind of miracle would stab you in the back?

Chapter 8  

Of course I could not have won the fight, of course I had fainted, of course they had finally managed to kidnap me after all that time. I was in the back of the car, I wasn’t tied up or anything… I was their friend after all. Junkrat was not sitting next to me, he was in the front seat, driving as fast as he could, I heard him shouting at nothing, his temper so short he would have exploded… more than usual. But I had no words to calm him down, I had no intention of speaking on friendly terms with them. I was really foolish, wasn’t I? They were taking me God knows where, their chatting drilling in my ears, I turned on my gear, at least I could listen to some music, I told myself. Music was great, always there for me… she couldn’t disappoint me. She was not a so-called miracle. She was all I had in that moment, all I wanted. I closed my eyes, drowning myself in that dream. I saw my family, they were dancing and cheering, the children playing together, the elders quietly enjoying the view of the starry sky as the tune I played embraced them. How could that be considered uncivilized? How could you take it away from us? With what heart can you burn a child away from his freedom? I snapped and punched the car door, making a loud noise that caught the attention of the two junkers. They stared at me, Jamie opened his mouth to say something, but he turned and focused back on driving. I was sending rage and betrayal out of my eyes, my lips sealed: they were not going to hear anything from me. Mako spoke in his heavy voice.    "We are taking you back to your hotel.” They weren’t kidnapping me? My brain could not process the though in that moment and I just considered that information as a pure lie. Have I already said that I was acting foolishly? I would have slapped myself if I could have.    "As if.“ Mako held my stare, not letting my anger get to him. He looked at me from safely behind his mask, I could barely see his eyes.    "Trust us.” I was about to snap again, but Jamie took care of the answer for me.    "Trust us?! After that d’you think he’d be such an idiot as to trust us with anything ever again?!“ His voice sounded both hurt and furious, he was eating on his own words; I could not see his face, but I was sure his eyes were firing and burning what he was facing.    "He’s not stupid.”    "That’s why he won’t have anything to do with us anymore!“    "He’ll understand soon.”    "Y’re not making any sense, mate!“ Jamie finally turned to the other man and what I saw actually made something in me break a bit. His eyes were distant, foggy and… watery. They were so full of different emotions, more than I had predicted. Had I caused that? I hoped from the bottom of my being that I hadn’t. When he turned completely to me, in that fraction of a second I saw that my hopes were just illusions; it was indeed my fault.    "Junkr-…” I halted midway, not wanting to distance myself any further. “Jamie, it’s cool.” Everything went quiet after that. Jamie back to driving, Mako back to facing the road. I was left alone, boiling in my anger as it should have been. I wanted to forgive them, maybe they didn’t know what they were doing; just delivering some bombs, they were just doing what they were payed for. Maybe they didn’t know what Vishkar wanted to do with the explosives. Maybe they did it because they carved that money… I was trying my best to justify their actions, deep inside, under the first layer of fury, the second of disappointment and the third of murderous intent, I wanted to believe in them, I wanted to believe in the sparkling eyes Jamie looked up to me with, in the quiet support of Mako… I took a deep breath, I closed my eyes and I fell asleep, lulled by the soft music in my ears.

I woke up later, a hand gently shaking me, cold metal against my skin. Jamie was looking at my sleeping face, his features not showing any particular emotion. I stood up, but I still had nothing to say to him, a heavy knot in my throat stopped my words from coming out. It was painful, looking at him as he hoped for a smile… I wish I had smiled back then. However I only got off the car, stretching my muscles. He stared at me, his big orbs never letting go of my body… I had known it for a long time, it really was hard to miss; what he felt about me I mean. I was flattered that such a particular person had found an interest in me, but in that moment I could not appreciate his staring at all. My mind was too confused and foggy, too many perspectives were trying to make their way into my subconscious, I had to shut something out. That something so happened to be my feelings for him. That was such a bad decision to take, I blame myself.    "Wanna drink something?“ Jamie offered me the tea he always had on himself, I sighed and faced him; a death stare he could not stand. "Sorry about that, Lú…” He sat on the ground, his hands covering his ears and grabbing violently his hair. I wanted to sit next to him.

   "Can I know the reason? Why did you give all that explosive to Vishkar?“    "It was just a job! They offered us bucks we needed, they only said they wanted to rebuild buildings in the city!” He answered as fast as he could, a desperate tone in his voice. I wanted to forgive him.    "Well, they were not lying, but they were going to burn down people too!“    "That I couldn’t have known!” I took a step towards him, using the temporary height advantage to make my point clear.    "Vishkar is mad, everyone can see that Jamie!“    "If you had told me sooner I wouldn’t have helped them!” He didn’t know. It wasn’t his fault. Vishkar from the eyes of an outsider could look like the best corporation in the world. Why would anyone in their right mind think that they’d light-heartedly blow up houses with people in them?    "Why didn’t you tell me you delivered them the explosives then?!“    "Because I decided I was going to get rid of ‘em anyway! I was going to throw away days of hard work because you asked for it, frog boy!” I was at fault. I had no right to be angry at him. He changed his mind. I had to take a step down, put my pride to the side. Sit down. Apologise. I sat down next to him, my eyes to the ground. Why were my feelings so hard to reach? I knew where they were: they held my heart in place, it couldn’t beat freely, they wouldn’t come out. When I looked at Jamie, I saw that he had managed to get out what I could not. His eyes were so… He was so unpredictable, you would think he wasn’t serious in his apology, that he was just a random bomber, a mercenary, a crazy psychopath, a pyro… he was all of that, but he was human too. He did feel pain when injured, he did feel sorrow when hurt, he did feel despair when helpless. I did see regret in his distant cold eyes, those same eyes he used to stare at me in awe with. I wanted them to regain that spark of life; I wanted the crazy bomber to scream and laugh out loud again, a proud smirk plastered on his face. Time can heal all wounds, but I was not going to wait. Something else could cure, something even more effective than time. I just pulled my portable console out of my bag, connected it to the backpack and turned it on. Jamie tried to say something, but I stopped him.    "It’s cool, let’s just calm down now.“ I started to mix the tracks I had saved, low keys and slow tunes… that was a way to say sorry, right? Jamie was sitting next to me, checking both my hands and my expression as they both turned calmer and calmer as the song played on. He was smiling a bit, I took a glance of that. I was grateful for that smile. I too tried to draw one on my face, I probably failed though.

Chapter 9  

Jamie was looking at me intently, so intently it was almost embarrassing. It wasn’t though, I appreciated each of his glances… I loved his attentions. Because of my awful mood I had forgotten how good it felt to be stared by those eyes. I slid closer to him, our arms touching, his cold metal sending shivers over my naked arm. What was I mad about again? I just wanted to forget at that point… I closed my eyes and leaned over, my head on his shoulder; the console playing music by itself…    "I don’t want to hate you, Jamie.” He stayed silent, only his breath could be heard in the darkness. It was a peaceful rhythm to follow, the bass of his heartbeat slowly growing stronger. He rested his head on mine, a sigh escaping his lips. My hand looking for his and finding it on his knee. I gently forced my fingers to intertwine with his.    "It would be nice if you didn't…" Nice… a pretty cold word just like his hand, freezing metal, but his forehead was warm, his chest a pleasant cosiness embracing me. Just a little longer, just the two of us. No Vishkar, no bombs, no fires, no world. Just us… I loved it. That small miracle… I begged to believe in it.    "I want to love you, Jamie.“ He snuggled closer after a few seconds, his hand now holding mine. His voice cracked as he spoke, I could not picture what kind of expression he was wearing.    "Think ya can manage that after all this shit?” I nodded and opened my eyes, slightly worried about his hurt voice. I could see myself in his teary eyes, his mouth turned into a sad sulk, he was trying his best to keep his cool for me. There was no need. I should have checked on him sooner though. I caressed his cheek and smiled, softly and gently; I was there for him to see, smiling, just the way he was used to see me. I stroke his hair as I ran my free arm around his neck.    "Shit happens.“ And shit happened, but it was good shit.

Chapter 10  

That morning… yeah, probably the only lingering question was a really confused…    "How?!” How did that happen?! Why did that happen?! “'Hog, how?!”    "You are naked.“    "That’s not the point, you fat drongo!” It took me a while to pick up that question, I had almost finished my breakfast when I remembered what happened… what happened… I smashed my head on the table again and again, trying to beat myself awake from that dream. When did we even get into that expensive-looking hotel room?! Why was 'Hog bogging in some expensive-looking pastries?!    "Where is the frog?!“ The big guy pointed at a door far in the back of the large living room. I ran towards it, ready to slam it open, but I remembered at the last moment what could have expected me behind that door: either a dream from the past night or… a really messy empty bed… I begged for it to be the first one, I didn’t want it to be just an illusion again. It had already happened, okay? Got something to say? Better not, I’ll make you blow up, I swear. Jamison calm your shit and open that door! I grabbed the knob and slowly walked into the room. He was there. Snooring and drooling like the princess he was. He was there. I held my breath for a moment and sat on the bed myself. I wondered and wondered, thought and thought, but I could find no answer to the stream of fucking questions. Jamison, you cunt, how did that happen?! I didn’t know then, I don’t know now, what the hell happened?! He yawned. Piece of junk. That was adorable.    "Good morning.” Send help, that was all I could think about. Wish him a good morning too? That was a great idea!    "G'day.“ I cracked a smile, it was so nervous my cheeks were hurting like hell. His on the other hand… he opened his eyes slowly at first, a chuckle escaped his soft lips when he saw my face.    "Still a bit embarassed, aren’t we?” I wanted to kiss the shit out of him. I could not bring myself to speak, he was just too handsome. Lúcio sat up and opened his arms, the sheet sliding off his figure to reveal his dark skin. He beckoned me to hug him, his head tilting to the side. Was I allowed to?! I got closer but didn’t dare to… he took me by surprise when he just launched himself in my arms, snuggling his face in my neck. I was stiff… so stiff…

  “It’s a shame, but you two should leave the hotel…” After getting dressed, that was not the first topic I wanted to cover, but frog boy was right. We really needed to get out of that place.    "Gotcha, we’ll get out in a second.“    "I’m telling this for your sake, people might recognise you in here…” He was pouting, as if he thought we had been offended by his consideration. I smiled at him.    "If they do, we might as well just kidnap you, right?“ I still wanted to kidnap him, at that time more than ever. I didn’t want to leave Lúcio’s side yet.    "Too clichè at this point, don’t you think?”    "Yeah, poor 'Hog over there would just throw me another one on the head if I tried to.“ We both laughed it off as I picked up my stuff, packed it into my bag and threw it from the window and on the car below. Roadie said he was going on ahead and said goodbye to Lúcio with a powerful handshake before slowly taking the outdoor stairs to the ground floor. I stood in the living room for a bit, bludging. Frog boy finally walked up to me, his hand travelling high to my neck, asking me to bend for him, which I gladly did. His lips on mine felt just so right, I wanted more again. He pinched my nose when he understood my intentions when I forced the kiss. But I didn’t want to let go yet, I wanted him close to me… my small sunshine… my adorable frog…    "Call me, ‘kay?” He kissed the tip of my nose, stroking my face. “I’ll be waiting.”    "I don’t want to wait.“    "We’ll both have to.” I kissed him that time around, I couldn’t help it. Just a quick peck, just to… make sure he still wanted me to. He did, he smiled again. That precious smile.

It’s been a while now, back to the crime-sprees, just me and old 'Hog… fells good, mate. The world knows our names, we are wanted by so many people: we are just like superstars! We are so cool that we always have bucks in our wallets, foods in our stomachs, bombs in our hands and first-row in concerts granted for life. What a great life we are living! Maybe the running from the cops part is not that great, especially if they interrupt the concert to smoke you out… I hate it when they do it, I just want to enjoy some music! I always have to get up from my seat, guzzle my tea and start running.

A hero association we thought was done for actually contacted us once. They asked us to join: the world could always use more heroes! We are crazy criminals, don’t even joke about that, girl. Someone else did join though… he, a dj, a freedom fighter and now a “hero"… well, I had to see it coming. He was just too suited for a role like that, he was born to be a hero. Or was he?

I love his music, even if when I do go all the way to watch him perform, that’s when the police finds me… still, not sure who is following who at this point, we just bump into each other, like magnets, every land we go he’s there for us, every place we run to, he has already a date planned. We can’t stay much together when we meet, but it’s fine, he’s just a call away. He’s a tune away, he’s a nothing away.

Good job on surviving until the end, you earned yourself a cookie <3<br>Remember that I am still not a native English speaker so I have limits.

[antonioviolarosa]

Nothing Away

Series: Overwatch

Pairing: Boombox (Junkrat x  Lúcio)

Chapters: 10/10

Words: 10.835

Subject: sligthly alternated universe in which a fanboy Junkrat fucks everything up.

It’s a ten-chapters-long fic that will probably either make you squeal or cringe or both so be prepared. Last warning, I like streams of thoughs.

Chapter 1  

On that day I was strolling downtown, enjoying the view of happy children playing football in the empty dusty street. Seeing such innocent fun delighted me: they were so free and beautiful. A white truck was trying to make its way on that road, so I stepped in and made the children move. As I did that, the driver lowered the window and thanked me, a really heavy accent marking his words. He then drove by, showing me a logo I could never forget: Vishkar Corporation. It was a powerful multinational; why would such corporation wander the suburbs like that? At the time I didn’t have any clues. I didn’t like Vishkar, their methods to improve the quality of life in big cities weren’t my cup of tea, everything they did was so … perfect… it looked like a miracle. And I am not the type to believe in miracles easily. Music can at times bring joy to a sorrowful heart, but it can’t last forever. It was almost fishy how each place they visited turned into a paradise overnight. Were they in Rio for that same goal then? Suspicious how they had just one truck, how could they build buildings with just that? Something clung to the hem of my pants, a gentle pull.   "Lúcio, wanna play with us?“ I patted the child’s head and nodded. His eyes lit up as he beamed proudly his young smile.   "Sure, champion!”

The sunset began to steal the light, so I led the children to their houses; the street was not a good place for children at night, so I always made sure they were home safe. Carrying his dirty ball in his hands, one of them was bragging about some tricks he pulled off in game, others were playfully telling him to shut up; I only laughed at the scene: it was such a peaceful view. There really was no place like that in the entire world. I was sure of that. No matter how shiny the big city behind those little shaggy houses looked, the warm lights turned that dirty view into a home to return to at dusk, our home.

Each of the families I visited that night asked me to stay for dinner, how nice of them to think of me, but I too had a place to be. I had a concert planned for later that evening: it was a small party, the owner of the local asked me, as a regular, to perform for the guests and hopefully attract more costumers from outside. I gladly agreed to help, but I had no expectation of drawing any crowd; I only played music to lift the burdens of my people, I thought I had not that much skill to pull a career out of it. I made my way in the club.   "Chief, I’m here!“   "Oh, thank you very much, Lúcio. Make yourself at home!” I put my portable console on the counter and stretched my arms, a bit soar from carrying it around all day. I quickly installed it and set the speakers around the dance floor, checked the lights and the quality of the audio; it wasn’t the best, but for a raw space like that it was already something. The party started and just as the owner thought, many people came to the bar, filling each corner just to listen to my music. Both from the favela and the town, some of them were complete strangers to me. However it was my people that made the night great, they sang, they danced and called my name: all of my work paid off at least. Their happiness was all I wanted, their cheerful voices were all I cared about. Too bad the children were home, but I can always play for them at daytime. As the clock hit three in the morning, the club owner signalled me to stop the music, marking the end of my concert. I thanked everyone for their presence that night and waited for those who wanted an autograph or a picture. I smiled in all of those, strangers or not, my music made their life better even if just a tiny bit and I was proud of that. One of the last to come up to me was quite the particular fellow, his expression stuck between embarrassment and happiness as I shook his hand and posed for the picture his friend took. I was sure he was from outside the favela, but his appearance was not suitable for the town… I couldn’t imagine such a person around the streets of any city, let alone a big one like Rio. I realized he had to be a tourist when he started speaking in English to me; or what I thought was English, he had such a weird accent it was difficult to understand all of his words. His clothes were baggy and badly kept, stains of dirt on the knees and elbows. They both left after another powerful handshake, he laughed his way out while staring at the screen he took the picture with.

Chapter 2

Rio stipulated a contract with Vishkar that day. They made it public around noon and a few hours later agents and architects were all over the place, scanning each alley and corner of my suburb. I did not like that idea, strangers wandering around, claiming to be protectors and saviours… however, my people had faith in them, so I gave them a chance: everyone deserved it. The next day I received a call from one of Vishkar’s employees. With her mechanical voice she asked me if I needed a job and told me to go to their closest branch office. I had been in need of an actual job for a long time, all I did in the last couple of years was working as a freelancer dj or as handyman for the families of my favela. I didn’t swim in gold, but I wasn’t exactly poor either, not compared to my people. The Omnic Crisis hit Brazil’s economy so hard, the situation only began to worsen for us; as the city grew bigger, finally surpassing the Crisis, the favelas around it only grew poorer and poorer… but my people chose to believe in the opportunities Vishkar offered and I wanted to trust their decision. I entered the branch office, a tall dark-skinned woman greeted me with an elegant bow.   "Welcome to Vishkar Corporation, I suppose you are here for the jobs we are currently offering the people of this city.“   "Thank you for your offer, I am desperate for a job right now.” I laughed it off, the woman only chuckled. “What kind of job is this?”   "You see, we are working on developing Rio de Janeiro for the better, new instalments, buildings, roads and public transports. We have plans for a brighter future, but we need help with handwork.“   "Handwork? And here I thought you architects could build everything with a snap of your fingers…”   "Not all architects are like that. Are you willing to work with us?“ My first job was driving one of their trucks to the other side of the town to collect the materials they needed. It was a relaxing trip, I also managed to put on some good tunes instead of those old noises the radio used to pump. I could have worked with that job just fine, but as soon as I delivered the materials they told me I had to help with the building next. Too bad. That time it was draining, I struggled so much with all those heavy pillars and concrete blocks, my sweat was sticking to my skin along with the dust. The people that were working in-group with me were on the brick of collapsing too. All of this while two of the architects watched from afar, all elegant in their white attires… At the end of that exhausting day at least I got to retrieve my payment… it was so little it didn’t even cover dinner.   "Excuse me, with all the work we’ve done, is this really it?” They closed the door to my face after telling me to return the day after for other jobs. My co-workers and I looked at each other, our grips firm on the envelope with our salary.   "It is just the first day, tomorrow we’ll get more!“ A cheerful man smiled and put the envelope in his large pockets.   "He’s right, Lúcio!” A man around my age patted my back. “Also, it is the first job we get in a long while, we should appreciate that.”   "Guess it must be like you say then.“ I barely muttered… I wanted to trust those smiles: it was just the first day, a test to see if we could really help them. After all, they wanted to make Rio great again, the favelas too. Maybe they were really going to make miracles happen. The sunset turned the sky orange fast that day, the children still playing in the streets began to pick up their toys. I walked up to them and they ran to me, giggling and waving without a single worry in the world. I had been starting to think: the streets weren’t a safe place in the dark hours ever since the crisis, but now it was over, right? I grew up stuck in my house, I was really upset when I couldn’t get to finish a match against my friends… those trivial things could matter again finally. With the help of Vishkar our home could finally become the safe place we wanted. I smiled at the children, picking the youngest girl up and tickling her.   "I don’t want to look too much ahead, but I believe that in little time you guys will be able to play all you want.”   "Really?“ They jumped happily when I nodded grinning. The streets were going to be well-lit by Vishkar technology, some agents were going to patrol at night, just to make sure nothing happened and maybe we could finally be paired with Rio, not just as its slums. While I was strolling around I spotted some Vishkar agents. They were armed…   "You over there!” I halted immediately and pointed at myself confused.   "Yes you! What are you doing outside? Go back home right now!“ I apologised by instinct and headed straight home with swift steps. I noticed they kept on following me until I finally locked myself in my house.   "This is no good…”

Weeks went by and… none of our expectations were met. All Vishkar Corporation cared about was the quick development of Rio, all they did was exploit what they could to achieve it. None of that was according to the promises they made, living in the favela was hard as ever before. Curfews had always been a thing, but only for young children, now no one could walk the streets at night. I thought it was going to be the other way around, but it is not. Their controls are so strict on us, we can’t live a single day without being beaten up for no reason, some of our behaviours were called lawless, our morals unfitting of a civilized world. Our salary didn’t grow any higher, we were fighting to stay alive more than ever. We had no money to eat, we had no permission to leave the favela, we could not get another job… we were just like prisoners… I couldn’t even play my music anymore because it didn’t suit the project they had for the town. How dared they say that when music was the only thing that, even for just those few minutes, had already saved my people from despair so many times?

I was sick of that.

We grouped up one afternoon at my pals’ house, we organized a way to show Vishkar who they were trying to submit. We were forced to work on their technologies, those the architects used to create shapes and buildings, instalments and so on. We had no idea how that light technology worked, we never got an answer when we asked, but we knew where it was stored. After all, we were the ones securing them. For a few days we planned our actions step by step, I spoke up for most of the people in the meeting and volunteered to take the lead of the main action. We were ready to take over.

Chapter 3

I admit we infiltrated Vishkar, we did revolt and we did damaged their facility, but I’ll never accept the crime of stealing. Their technology was the result of the hard work of my people, it was ours by right. When we got back to our base, everyone called my name as if I was some kind of hero to their eyes. I was no hero, I barely shouted orders, but I wanted to keep fighting for them. We improvised a concert that night, Vishkar could not stop us anymore; they were already driven out of our favela. Music was such a gift to our souls, our minds were at peace again, my fingers felt light as I scratched the console. I turned up the volume, everyone danced, children and adults alike: it was not a miracle, it was pure freedom, finally.

What happened after was a disastrous turn of events. The night tasted like burning wood and metal, a terribly hot night with screaming echoing in its silence. A fire, all over the place. And everything was a mess. I did all I could to help my family, their screaming killed me, but I too was shouting, shouting for them to hear me over the noisy bursting of flames. Everything turned against us in such a short amount of time.

No victims at least, but so many were harmed and burnt so badly their faces were unrecognisable. In the past I had carried many children in my arms to help them, but never were they so weak, so powerless. Their homes were turning to ashes with little hope to be saved from the ferocious flames. I was dying inside, while on the outside I had to stay calm and think about what to do next, quick and precise. My people… my family needed me more than ever. We managed to evacuate everyone thanks to the help of the young adults, but we ended up out of our favela, out of the city. There was no place for us to return. I couldn’t do anything more than that… I was weak. I let myself fall to the ground, hateful tears staining my face. That caught attention. I didn’t want them to see me like that; it was all my fault, it was my fault they lost everything they had. Had I been stronger they would have been unharmed, had I been smarter they would have been evacuated more efficiently, had I been braver they wouldn’t have had to suffer. Young men and women walked up to me, patted my back and forced me back on my feet. My tears already dried out, but my red eyes gave my feelings away.   "Forgive me, it’s my fault…" One of the oldest of the group sighed loudly, watching closely each of my drained expressions. Another man came up shortly after.   "It is not, youngling. Our bodies are doing fine but… Do us all a favour, mind playing some tunes for our sad souls?“   "We could always use some good music.” They lifted me up and punched my chest in a friendly way. I clenched my fist on my chest, where his had had hit. They were right. I quickly set up the console and gears, pumping up all the music I could think of. No matter what happened before, no matter what will happen in the future, there was always something we could all believe in. There was always that special gift to everyone: music. I thanked all of them that night; I played for them until it was daytime, we partied like we were free and happy like we used to, the flames in the background slowly fading in black dust. We had no home, but we had each other.

Few weeks after that terrible nightmare, just like in a badly scripted movie, we were all back to our daily life, back in our houses with little to no motivation. They were not our old homes, but new ones the architects of Vishkar created for us. We were so lucky to have them… not. It was them. They were behind it all. Their impossible utopia was all they cared about, not about our lives, our homes… just about that monstrous imaginary world they built for themselves in their rotten brains. Burn down a favela just to rebuild it to your likings? Why didn’t they just tell us to evacuate then? Why did they put so many lives on the line? They were barbarians, crazy psychopaths. Not only were they back in our favela, but their controls were as strict as ever. It was hard. However, even in the worst situation, I did have some luck; my name spread across the country along with my tapes after the night we infiltrated Vishkar. People contacted me to play in their locals, concerts, they wanted more of my inspiring music… inspiring, just as it should be. Did I have the right to neglect my people for my career? I thought I didn’t, but everyone pushed me to go for it. They promised they would not give up, that they would support me and remember their freedom. So I started my journey, a lonely long journey, taking with me what I didn’t want Vishkar to have back.

Chapter 4

  "Man, ain’t this Lúcio the best thing in the world!“ The big guy sighed through his gas mask.   "Y'right, who ‘m I kidding, explosions come first.” At the time I was working on a new type of concussion mine, all while listening to some appealing elevator noises. ‘Hog told me the music was too loud, but I was deaf and I wanted to listen to it, so I didn’t care. “I remember when I first saw him, that frog boy.” ‘Hog tossed me a screwdriver I really didn’t need, but I kept it next to me just to be sure.   "Really? Am I really that predictable?“ I looked at him a bit shocked, usually he would enjoy my conversation topics, not tell me to change so quickly. "Though y’ liked him too, mate.”   "What d’you mean not in the same way I do? What other ways are there to like someone? No, now y’explain! Don’t go in the garage, y’know I don’t have my peg on right now! Come back ya cunt!“ I tried to crawl my way and follow him, but the wires of the mines were too much of an obstacle to overcome. I just laid on my stomach, growling annoyed by the rude interruption. I got up and threw away the mine, which exploded in the back of the garden, but it didn’t matter, it was already a dump as it was. I reached for my peg leg, I wasn’t wearing it because I had been fixing it earlier, I got up and headed inside the garage, our temporary base. ‘Hog was turning down the volume of the music, That made me mad.   "I told ya I don’t give a shit about your sissy hearing! I want to hear the basses!” Grumping and snorting, I hit him in his fat belly with my metal arm. I knew that must have hurt him! But he punched me to the ground with little to no efforts and told me to shut up.   "Roger that…" There I was again, lying on the floor face down. Why did I even bother to get up again? At least from this position I could still hear my favourite funky noises. Dunno why they were so addictive, they just turned me up. And that little Brazilian frog, he did turn me up as well… or on… not sure which one it was anymore.   "’Hog, me man, where is the picture again?“   "Gotcha, and where’s my phone?”   "In my pants that are…?“   "Of course I know I’m wearing ‘em, shuddup!” I took the phone out of my pocket and quickly headed to the gallery, just so I could see the picture one more time. I loved that picture, each little pixel of it. It was from that time when me and the big guy were in Rio just chilling and got to hear Lúcio’s music for the first time. He even shook my hand! Can’t believe a music star touched a hand of a mercenary like me. On a second point though, we weren’t really chilling, more like working. I won’t go too much in detail, but a certain corporation may or may not have asked us junkers to find a way to quickly burn to the ground a large stock of houses and buildings. Well, unfortunately, we didn’t get to see them burn up, since they only wanted us to provide the otherwise too-suspicious-for-such-a-corporation amount of explosive needed. They told me it was to get rid of the old buildings of the town to build new ones, a totally legit work for once, it felt weird. And I didn’t even get to see the explosion, what a waste of time and bombs. It’s been quite some years since that time though, man I even had all of my hair in that picture! Where did my hair go? I miss it… Hog came back and smacked me on the head with a newspaper. I was about to shout at him, but he shoved it in my face and left again. Did I have to look at that? How pushy of him, honestly… I did just that anyways and oh boy I had to read it again and again to believe it.   "He’s coming here! ‘Hog! ‘Hog! He’s coming here!“ I ran to the door, only to meet face-first my mate’s giant hand. "The frog boy!!” It was such a coincidence for us to be in the UK too! He was going to be there!! I was excited, maybe I could see him again… He looked at me, his eyes dead serious.   "Do you want to go?“ I nodded my head frenetically at his question, my eyes sparkling with expectations. I fidgeted at the idea of meeting Lúcio again. The big guy sighed loudly.

Chapter 5  

It wasn’t really planned, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle. We stood near the backdoor entrance of the coolest, most expensive-looking club of the entire town, the one and only place were the frog was going to show off his new hits. We were hiding in the shadows, waiting for the prey to… there he was! Holy dooley was he more handsome in person and so short and he looked so nice and his smile and and and… Hog smacked me in the back of my head to bring me back to earth. He was right, we had a plan. Why was he alone anyways? Not even a bodyguard? What if a gang of dirty creeps tried to kidnap him?! What if we were those creeps?! … we were those creeps. I took a step forward, preventing him from reaching the doorknob.   "G'evening! Lúcio, am I right?” He stared at me unimpressed. He was so short… not even reaching my shoulder. That was adorable?!   "In the flesh, what can I do for you?“   "Y'know, me and me friend here were wondering if you’d let us kidnap ya.” His expression didn’t change one bit, his happy smile still on his dorky face. So adorable?!   "Usually you ask for autographs, not kidnapping.“ He laughed it off, probably thinking I was joking. "Are you two fans? Got no tickets for the show?”   "No tickets, mate, we were just prancing around, checking out… the scenery…"   "Well… this is just a badly-lit alley, but I guess it can have its charm.“   "Agree! The rubbish bins and the greens from that neon over there just add that atmosphere, right?” At that moment I could hear Hog just sighing a “what even is this conversation”, to which I answered with a glare. That was my first actual conversation with frog boy and he was not going to ruin it! I turned back to Lúcio and he was chuckling… I panicked.   "The show is packed, but I guess I could let you in at least if you want to listen to the concert. I can’t just leave out two fans like this.“ That would have been nice! But that was not the point!   "No, no, y’got the wrong idea, mate! We’re here to actually kidnap ya!”   "We are here for the concert.“ Hog spoke up, a hand on my head, pushing it down, forcing me to show an apologetic behaviour. Lúcio smiled again.   "You almost scared me there, I can’t miss a concert for charity, especially around this time of the year.” He was worried about charity after a threat like that? What even was wrong with this bloke’s moral code?! Gosh his smile was the most sunshine-like thing ever… I bit my lip, unable to stop the staring. What were we doing there again?   "Am I bothering ya? Sorry about that mate…" He chuckled again, something inside me began to tick, it felt just like the sound of a timer… it felt nice and warm and ready to explode.   "Not at all, thank you for the distraction, I was actually really tense before meeting you.“ Well, I was the one that was tense now. He… he… he… ‘Hog hit me again in the back of my head. I scanned the area, trying to focus my eyes on something different, which happened to be his hair: it looked so soft to the touch…   "Y’re welcome…” I reached for the back of my head, scratching it to distract myself, pretty sure the feeling didn’t match the view though, my hair was dry and ruined. “You should get going then, y'know, to your charity and stuff…” He took out his phone, or what I though was a phone, it was a brand new model, unlike my old one, and checked the time.   "I was early anyway. What are your names? I can give them to the staff and let you in.“ Think fast, think fast, think fast! Faster! You don’t have all day!   "J-Jamie!” I spit out. “And my friend here’s Mako.” Lúcio tapped something on the screen and nodded.   "Mako and Jamie, got it. I’ll forward your names right away.“ He nodded happily while messing with his phone. A few seconds after he received a reply. "Alright, you can enter.” He beamed a smile and a thumb up, but I was too hyped about him calling me by name.

 “Do you think he recognised me?” We walked in the club, following one of the bodyguards. I was still excited and trembling, a big smile crawling on my face. ‘Hog shook his head no, pointing at my face.   "C’mon! My face is not that easy to forg-… oh… y'right…" I had been wearing a disguise all day long. I suddenly felt sad, a empty feeling of empty emptiness in my chest. I was wearing a hat, a scarf, glasses and all that shit… he couldn’t possibly have recognised me… The big guy patted me on the back, pulling me with him inside the room where Lúcio was about to perform. There I was though, standing proudly right under that hyper frog. And that was the second time! And then there was my favourite song! And his eyes were so focused but so carefree and his hands worked so intently on that console! I couldn’t stop staring at him. Had I been lucky? Yes, I had. Was that luck going to take me any further? I doubted it. I decided to watch quietly, only bouncing and tapping my feet to the rhythm. Boy, were they the best elevator noises in the whole world… at a certain point he also sang! He sang! And he waved at me during a short break! Well… he waved in my general direction… but he waved at me! I was burning inside, but it wasn’t the usual explosive… it was gentler…   "’Hog, can we-“   "No.”   "Gotcha.“ Kidnapping was not in my mate’s plans apparently. But I wanted him so bad… screw that! If Hog wasn’t with me, I would have done it myself! … after the end of the concert, because that shit was amazing to watch.

Hours later we left the club, my mind, my ears and my eyes still in utter bliss for the performance. I probably also agreed to donating something to charity in that mental state, but fuck it I was too happy to care. I felt my cheeks hurting for the huge smile on my face but I didn’t give a care. Right when I though the day couldn’t turn any better, someone poked my shoulder, by the size of the hand it couldn’t be ‘Hog. I turned quickly and I froze.   "Did you enjoy the concert? I saw you made donations, I wanted to thank you.” The frog boy in the flesh, again, in front of me, alone… my heart!! I cracked a smile and nodded my head, trying to at least answer his question despite my panic. He beamed a grin, his eyes half-closed. I could not stand that anymore.   "Stop being so cute or I’ll kidnap you!“ He halted for a minute and then laughed my threat off, again. Why wouldn’t he believe me?! I was a wanted criminal, with a 25 million dollars bounty on my head! I was in a disguise but it didn’t matter, how was I not fishy to his eyes?! I stared at him confused, ‘Hog just ready to snap me out of it, but Lúcio spoke up.   "There you go again with the kidnapping, you know, there are other ways to ask a guy out…” Ask out? …ask… him… out? Did he thought…?   "You got it wrong, mate! I… I just…" Why wouldn’t Hog help me?! I was a mess in that moment and he was just standing there, laughing behind that mask of his without the slightest care! I was embarrassing myself in front of the frog and he was not helping! Oh, I was going to punch that smirk out of his face, oh, yes I was! But first, I had a little stuttering to deal with.   "I-I j-just really like y-yo-your m-music…" Lúcio smiled again, taking a step closer to hear my voice, which was slowly getting lower and lower. “Y-y’re great…”   "Thanks!“ He was a sunshine… a total pure ray of sunshine, beaming in my face and torturing me with its heath. My face was burning, probably my expression was both tense and awkward, my lips stuck on a forced smile and my eyes wide open behind the fake lenses of the glasses of my disguise. I scratched the back of my head clumsily, almost getting my prosthesis stuck in the wool of my hat.   "Seriously though,” I regained my cool, just that little bit to speak without stuttering, my cheeks were still flaming hot. “can I kidnap ya?” I turned to face ‘Hog, who just facepalmed with no respect. How dare he?! I was being serious there!   "I don’t have that much time, unfortunately.“ His voice sounded really apologetic, his eyes never losing mine. "The tour and stuff, I’m just packed, man…”   "Oh… I see, that’s unfortunate, mate…"   "I can give you my number though, let’s meet up some other time.“ He handed me a slip of plasticised paper, there was a number, a signature and a doodled frog on it. An autograph… his number… still he couldn’t be kidnapped… too bad… wait.   "Hold on, why am I asking for permission?!” He blinked confused.   "Well, because that’s what you do when you ask someone out?“   "I’m not asking anyone out! Ya got it all w-” In that moment ‘Hog stopped being a silent wallpaper and he smacked me.   "We are going home.“   "What?!”   "Now.“ He grabbed me by my scarf and pulled with all of his might, I was choking, but the view I had made it impossible for me to die; Lúcio was smiling cheerfully, a hand holding his stomach, holding back the laughter. He was so… so… I was speechless.   "Call me, ‘kay, Jamie?” I thought I could not die watching him, but he was breathtakingly handsome. He winked when I nodded in response and then he left to go back in the club.   "'Hog… I got his number…"   "I’m glad.“ I stared at the slip of paper, my hand trailing to the phone in my pocket. I grabbed it and sent a text to that number saying it was me. I got an almost immediate response.

-          Got you saved :)

My body just melted, the big guy just carrying me over his shoulder. Was that day a miracle? How did that happen?! I witnessed a miracle. A damn miracle I tell you!   "I fucking love him.”

Chapter 6  

So apparently we were requested for some other legit job, that was weird. What was weirdest though was the fact that we had been hired by the same corporation of some years ago, the one that wanted to blow up the city… what was it called again? Vikar? Fishkar? Whatevikar? On the phone they told me the needed about the same amount of explosive as last time but the order was due in three days… who did they think we were, bombs dispensers?! They don’t grow on threes yet, but apparently they didn’t know. Both me and ‘Hog worked hard though, we wanted all those juicy bucks. So we pulled a couple all-nighters and finished the job on time. In the morning we were in charge of moving it from our basement to their warehouse. Luckily for us our crime-spree brought us to a city really close to their headquarters, so we could easily deliver the bombs. We put them all in the back of our car and we sped through the streets, trying to meet the deadline; I might be a criminal, but I sure ain’t late. We reached the warehouse in little time, dropped the bombs, got our bucks and left, smooth as silk. Now we had a couple thousands of dollars to use and no one was going to stop us… except a call on my phone.   "Hold your horses, 'Hog! It’s the frog boy!“   "You are driving.”   "Hold my horses then!“ I let go of the steering wheel and answered the call, striking an ever so sensual pose. Roadie just launching himself to hold the wheel for me, ready as usual.   "G’day, Lúcio!”   "Hello! You free right now, Jamie?“ I was always free for him, what kind of question was that?! In that moment more than ever.   "Sure thing, cobber, what’s up? Dinner?”   "I actually need help…" I sat straight up hearing those words and his worried tone. He asked me if we were anywhere nearby him because he was in real need in that moment. Ever so lucky, we were, just a few kilometres away, nothing a car ride couldn’t fix. Man, what was that period and crime-sprees in convenient locations? We headed to his location immediately… then I realised.   "Wait, do we have our disguises with us?“ ‘Hog shook his head and ordered me to take control of the car because his back was starting to hurt for the position he was forced in. No disguise was no good, what if he didn’t recognise me?! What would he think if he found out that I looked completely different?! What if he found out I had little hair?! I kept on driving while my mind just turned blank.

  "Jamie, Mako?” I scratched the back of my head at his confused expression but then shrugged it off playfully. I stepped into the luxurious hotel room.   "We kind of survived a nuclear war, it’s fine though.“   "You look rad as hell, I love that!” Lúcio’s eyes lit up as he high-fived both me and ‘Hog, his smile so pure it could have killed me. I noticed only in that moment that he too was dressed differently: a gear on his legs, a really weird backpack and an even weirder… gun? What even was that hanging from his belt? It was connected to a band on his arm with a plastic tube… but it didn’t look rudimental at all, more like a really thought out weapon. What the hell was that?! Did it explode?! Hopefully it did! I pointed at it, waiting for him to answer.   "This gun? Just the power of music, man.“   "Too bad, it needs more boom!” He laughed at my comment and pointed it to my face with a swift movement. He pulled the trigger, a loud noise coming out of the gun, and I found myself against a wall, my ears ringing a bit. A couple glasses nearby broke for the impact of the sound wave.   "It can’t boom, but it can boop.“ That was cool. I was deafer than usual, but that was cool!   "So, frog boy, what d’you need us two for? Something to blow up?” He sighed and shook his head.   "Quite the opposite actually, I need to stop Vishkar from blowing up large part of this city.“ That was a shame. Wait… Vishkar…?   "Who again, mate?”   "Vishkar Corporation. They plan on burning the suburbs of this town to ashes so that they can rebuild them to their likings.“ I glanced at ‘Hog, waiting for his opinion on the matter… I swore that was the name of the company we delivered the bombs to that very same day… As expected, we both understood that that was going to be a sticky situation to be in.   "I… I dunno, mate, I mean… Vishkar’s a big corporation with loads of bucks and stuff..”   "I have money too and I know you two are mercenaries, I want your help.“ That was quite the shock. How did he…?! His expression as serious as ever, his eyes injected with that slight hint of revenge. What did Vishkar even do to him? He looked hot as hell like that though.   "How did you know we were mercenaries?” Roadie asked the question for me, I could feel his uneasiness.   "Do you really think I wouldn’t recognise the faces of the two wanted criminals Junkrat and Roadhog?“ He smirked at us and handed me a check. Those were a lot of money. "I am not asking this as friends. I need help and my people aren’t anywhere close at the moment.” He offered me his hand, a serious look directed to the both of us. I gulped, quite surprised by his behaviour.   "Why should we, uh?“   "For all the times I could have called the police but didn’t because I enjoy your company. Deal?”   "Well then, ya could’ve said so sooner.“ Was that going to be a terrible decision? Hell yes. Was I going to leave Lúcio alone? Hell no. I grabbed his hand, gave it a tight squeeze and shook it, he did the same, the most conscious grin plastered on his lips. He did the same to Hog and we all started working on a plan. Who was going to tell frog boy that we worked for that corporation ourselves? Sure as hell not me.

Chapter 7

The three of us were driving toward the warehouse of Vishkar, Mako on the wheel and Jamie sitting in the back next to me. We knew its location thanks to some of my contacts in the city. Jamie was staring at me but I couldn’t really grasp what he could have been thinking. His eyes were empty… they were actually creeping me out.   "Man, can you quit the staring? You know I don’t mind but…” He blinked a dozen times before finally jumping awake from his coma-like state. He excused himself and turned his eyes to the road. The sun was about to set, we had to arrive at that place before it was too late, I knew they were going to act once everyone was sleeping. They did that one too many times for me to forgive them, I will not let another suburb share the same fate as my favela. I received the alert from one of my companions, but he couldn’t make it to the actual action so I was in need of a couple more hands. That’s why I thought of Jamie and Mako; Junkrat and Roadhog that is: they were both friends and mercenaries, there was no reason for them to not help me if they were to be payed. A hand touched my shoulder, I looked up to find Jamie eyeing me weirdly… again.   "Yes?“   "There is something I want to tell ya, but also I don’t want to…” Usually he would make more sense, I swear he had really incredible conversations… or at least incredible attempts at flirting with me. Maybe it just wasn’t the day. I had noticed there was something wrong with him, but I didn’t want to stress him about it; now though he was just rubbing that feeling in my face and I had to ask.   "You have been acting weird today, something’s up, Jamie?“ He hesitated in his answering, his finger pointing at nothing and closing on itself soon after. He scratched the back of his head.   "I just want to get this shit done with already.”   "I wish it would just end here…" They weren’t going to stop. They were to stubborn to understand the meaning of freedom: anarchy is how they call it, disorder, madness, hypocrisy, not suited for a civilized world… I wish they would open their eyes. I am not just assuming their thoughts, during one of my tours I met a woman. She was young and elegant, a beautiful pearl of the east, her hair long and silky, her movements clean and sensual… but in her head, she was brainwashed. She rambled about a perfect world, she spoke nonsense, she believed in crazy ideals. She believed in Vishkar. I tried to convince her, but she too was just as stubborn. Her name was Satya, she told me when I met her, never thought we would come to hate each other. I had to stop Vishkar not only for my people, not only for the freedom of society, but also for people like her. I will free them from that prison of a belief.   "Did Vishkar do something to ya, mate? Y’re looking pretty angry there…" I realised only in that moment that I never told those two what happened to me, even though I had known them for roughly two years now… It was weird how quickly I grew attached to those two, they were out of their minds most of the time… well, Jamie was at least, and they couldn’t give a single care about what happened around them. I loved how they could just shrug off any restriction. I am sure that it’s also thanks to them that I am going head first in this mission of mine: reckless, but free. I must admit that meeting them had really changed me. I was scared at first, I immediately recognised the faces of the two wanted criminals when they first approached me, but somehow the situation worked itself out that night. Now I had two awesome pals I could count on in need. Them being there in that moment… it must have been a little miracle. A little one. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms while speaking.   "They did what I am trying to prevent now. Years ago, before my debut, they burned to the ground my favela just so that they could rebuild it anew according to their standards. Many of my people… my family, risked their lives, children were injured and burnt, their young faces forever scarred by the flames.“ I tightened the grip on my arm, rage and fury trying to get a hold of my brain. "I will never forgive them.” That was all I was going to tell the two, but I didn’t get the reaction I expected… actually, I didn’t really get one: Mako was quietly driving, Jamie was just staring at the horizon, his eyes wide open; he really was making me worried. He was silent for about a minute then he lowered his head.   "That sucks, frog boy.“   "But it won’t happen again.” Right as I said that, Mako stopped the engine and got off the car, Jamie and I followed soon after. At that point, I took the lead and started to scan the area by wallriding. I quietly made my way in the warehouse; no guards seemed to be on duty, weirdly enough. I returned to my companions reporting the situation.   "Maybe they’re hiding!“ Jamie laughed maniacally and grabbed his frag launcher with both hands. "Might as well flush ‘em out, am I right?” Mako held firmly his gun as he stepped forward, he said he was going to test the ground for us. After a couple minutes of searching, still no employee or guard to be seen… why would Vishkar leave a whole warehouse, the one in which they stocked their materials, completely unprotected?   "Last time it wasn’t this quiet…" I jumped on another wall and got another higher view of the area: empty. Jamie followed me with his eyes.   "Last time?“ I landed on a metal box, it was shining in little blue lights, probably used to mark its position.   "When I entered Vishkar back in Rio, there was a high level of security, guards and alarms both, but there’s nothing here.” Jamie laughed again, but it was more of a nervous giggle. He scanned the area quickly, his body twitching with every movement. Mako was keeping an eye on him too; we were both worried apparently. I jumped down back on their level and patted Jamie on the back, concern in my voice.   "You okay, man?“ He stared at me for a couple second before turning roughly and pointing towards the far back of the warehouse.   "There’s nothing here, the bombs must be in a room over there!” I skated ahead, not wanting to lose more time, but I was soon halted by a number of doors. There were sentries, finally a layer of security. Before I could say anything, I saw something flying toward the doors, quickly followed by a loud and flashy explosion: the sentries were destroyed. Jamie threw a mine at them apparently.   "Thank you!“   "No problem, let’s just end this.” He then kicked one of the doors open with no sign of doubt… he looked really aware of the layout of the place. When I spotted the incredible amount of explosive in the room we entered I almost fell to the ground. Vishkar was ill.  While I was lost in my hate, Jamie and Mako just walked to the bombs and started messing with them… only in that moment I noticed something, something I wish I hadn’t. I grabbed one of the bombs and looked at it with care. There was a smiling face on them, one I can easily recognise.   "Jamie…"   "I’ll be done in a sec, mate.“ I was already mad enough, my face was unable to show any kind of emotion in that moment and my chest felt cold. I gripped the bomb, grinding my teeth in anger. I shouldn’t have shouted, they were trying to help me. I shouldn’t have attacked them, they had changed their mind. But what kind of miracle would stab you in the back?

Chapter 8  

Of course I could not have won the fight, of course I had fainted, of course they had finally managed to kidnap me after all that time. I was in the back of the car, I wasn’t tied up or anything… I was their friend after all. Junkrat was not sitting next to me, he was in the front seat, driving as fast as he could, I heard him shouting at nothing, his temper so short he would have exploded… more than usual. But I had no words to calm him down, I had no intention of speaking on friendly terms with them. I was really foolish, wasn’t I? They were taking me God knows where, their chatting drilling in my ears, I turned on my gear, at least I could listen to some music, I told myself. Music was great, always there for me… she couldn’t disappoint me. She was not a so-called miracle. She was all I had in that moment, all I wanted. I closed my eyes, drowning myself in that dream. I saw my family, they were dancing and cheering, the children playing together, the elders quietly enjoying the view of the starry sky as the tune I played embraced them. How could that be considered uncivilized? How could you take it away from us? With what heart can you burn a child away from his freedom? I snapped and punched the car door, making a loud noise that caught the attention of the two junkers. They stared at me, Jamie opened his mouth to say something, but he turned and focused back on driving. I was sending rage and betrayal out of my eyes, my lips sealed: they were not going to hear anything from me. Mako spoke in his heavy voice.   "We are taking you back to your hotel.” They weren’t kidnapping me? My brain could not process the though in that moment and I just considered that information as a pure lie. Have I already said that I was acting foolishly? I would have slapped myself if I could have.   "As if.“ Mako held my stare, not letting my anger get to him. He looked at me from safely behind his mask, I could barely see his eyes.   "Trust us.” I was about to snap again, but Jamie took care of the answer for me.   "Trust us?! After that d’you think he’d be such an idiot as to trust us with anything ever again?!“ His voice sounded both hurt and furious, he was eating on his own words; I could not see his face, but I was sure his eyes were firing and burning what he was facing.   "He’s not stupid.”   "That’s why he won’t have anything to do with us anymore!“   "He’ll understand soon.”   "Y’re not making any sense, mate!“ Jamie finally turned to the other man and what I saw actually made something in me break a bit. His eyes were distant, foggy and… watery. They were so full of different emotions, more than I had predicted. Had I caused that? I hoped from the bottom of my being that I hadn’t. When he turned completely to me, in that fraction of a second I saw that my hopes were just illusions; it was indeed my fault.   "Junkr-…” I halted midway, not wanting to distance myself any further. “Jamie, it’s cool.” Everything went quiet after that. Jamie back to driving, Mako back to facing the road. I was left alone, boiling in my anger as it should have been. I wanted to forgive them, maybe they didn’t know what they were doing; just delivering some bombs, they were just doing what they were payed for. Maybe they didn’t know what Vishkar wanted to do with the explosives. Maybe they did it because they carved that money… I was trying my best to justify their actions, deep inside, under the first layer of fury, the second of disappointment and the third of murderous intent, I wanted to believe in them, I wanted to believe in the sparkling eyes Jamie looked up to me with, in the quiet support of Mako… I took a deep breath, I closed my eyes and I fell asleep, lulled by the soft music in my ears.

I woke up later, a hand gently shaking me, cold metal against my skin. Jamie was looking at my sleeping face, his features not showing any particular emotion. I stood up, but I still had nothing to say to him, a heavy knot in my throat stopped my words from coming out. It was painful, looking at him as he hoped for a smile… I wish I had smiled back then. However I only got off the car, stretching my muscles. He stared at me, his big orbs never letting go of my body… I had known it for a long time, it really was hard to miss; what he felt about me I mean. I was flattered that such a particular person had found an interest in me, but in that moment I could not appreciate his staring at all. My mind was too confused and foggy, too many perspectives were trying to make their way into my subconscious, I had to shut something out. That something so happened to be my feelings for him. That was such a bad decision to take, I blame myself.   "Wanna drink something?“ Jamie offered me the tea he always had on himself, I sighed and faced him; a death stare he could not stand. "Sorry about that, Lú…” He sat on the ground, his hands covering his ears and grabbing violently his hair. I wanted to sit next to him.

  "Can I know the reason? Why did you give all that explosive to Vishkar?“   "It was just a job! They offered us bucks we needed, they only said they wanted to rebuild buildings in the city!” He answered as fast as he could, a desperate tone in his voice. I wanted to forgive him.   "Well, they were not lying, but they were going to burn down people too!“   "That I couldn’t have known!” I took a step towards him, using the temporary height advantage to make my point clear.   "Vishkar is mad, everyone can see that Jamie!“   "If you had told me sooner I wouldn’t have helped them!” He didn’t know. It wasn’t his fault. Vishkar from the eyes of an outsider could look like the best corporation in the world. Why would anyone in their right mind think that they’d light-heartedly blow up houses with people in them?   "Why didn’t you tell me you delivered them the explosives then?!“   "Because I decided I was going to get rid of ‘em anyway! I was going to throw away days of hard work because you asked for it, frog boy!” I was at fault. I had no right to be angry at him. He changed his mind. I had to take a step down, put my pride to the side. Sit down. Apologise. I sat down next to him, my eyes to the ground. Why were my feelings so hard to reach? I knew where they were: they held my heart in place, it couldn’t beat freely, they wouldn’t come out. When I looked at Jamie, I saw that he had managed to get out what I could not. His eyes were so… He was so unpredictable, you would think he wasn’t serious in his apology, that he was just a random bomber, a mercenary, a crazy psychopath, a pyro… he was all of that, but he was human too. He did feel pain when injured, he did feel sorrow when hurt, he did feel despair when helpless. I did see regret in his distant cold eyes, those same eyes he used to stare at me in awe with. I wanted them to regain that spark of life; I wanted the crazy bomber to scream and laugh out loud again, a proud smirk plastered on his face. Time can heal all wounds, but I was not going to wait. Something else could cure, something even more effective than time. I just pulled my portable console out of my bag, connected it to the backpack and turned it on. Jamie tried to say something, but I stopped him.   "It’s cool, let’s just calm down now.“ I started to mix the tracks I had saved, low keys and slow tunes… that was a way to say sorry, right? Jamie was sitting next to me, checking both my hands and my expression as they both turned calmer and calmer as the song played on. He was smiling a bit, I took a glance of that. I was grateful for that smile. I too tried to draw one on my face, I probably failed though.

Chapter 9  

Jamie was looking at me intently, so intently it was almost embarrassing. It wasn’t though, I appreciated each of his glances… I loved his attentions. Because of my awful mood I had forgotten how good it felt to be stared by those eyes. I slid closer to him, our arms touching, his cold metal sending shivers over my naked arm. What was I mad about again? I just wanted to forget at that point… I closed my eyes and leaned over, my head on his shoulder; the console playing music by itself…   "I don’t want to hate you, Jamie.” He stayed silent, only his breath could be heard in the darkness. It was a peaceful rhythm to follow, the bass of his heartbeat slowly growing stronger. He rested his head on mine, a sigh escaping his lips. My hand looking for his and finding it on his knee. I gently forced my fingers to intertwine with his.   "It would be nice if you didn't…" Nice… a pretty cold word just like his hand, freezing metal, but his forehead was warm, his chest a pleasant cosiness embracing me. Just a little longer, just the two of us. No Vishkar, no bombs, no fires, no world. Just us… I loved it. That small miracle… I begged to believe in it.   "I want to love you, Jamie.“ He snuggled closer after a few seconds, his hand now holding mine. His voice cracked as he spoke, I could not picture what kind of expression he was wearing.   "Think ya can manage that after all this shit?” I nodded and opened my eyes, slightly worried about his hurt voice. I could see myself in his teary eyes, his mouth turned into a sad sulk, he was trying his best to keep his cool for me. There was no need. I should have checked on him sooner though. I caressed his cheek and smiled, softly and gently; I was there for him to see, smiling, just the way he was used to see me. I stroke his hair as I ran my free arm around his neck.   "Shit happens.“ And shit happened, but it was good shit.

Chapter 10  

That morning… yeah, probably the only lingering question was a really confused…   "How?!” How did that happen?! Why did that happen?! “'Hog, how?!”   "You are naked.“   "That’s not the point, you fat drongo!” It took me a while to pick up that question, I had almost finished my breakfast when I remembered what happened… what happened… I smashed my head on the table again and again, trying to beat myself awake from that dream. When did we even get into that expensive-looking hotel room?! Why was 'Hog bogging in some expensive-looking pastries?!   "Where is the frog?!“ The big guy pointed at a door far in the back of the large living room. I ran towards it, ready to slam it open, but I remembered at the last moment what could have expected me behind that door: either a dream from the past night or… a really messy empty bed… I begged for it to be the first one, I didn’t want it to be just an illusion again. It had already happened, okay? Got something to say? Better not, I’ll make you blow up, I swear. Jamison calm your shit and open that door! I grabbed the knob and slowly walked into the room. He was there. Snooring and drooling like the princess he was. He was there. I held my breath for a moment and sat on the bed myself. I wondered and wondered, thought and thought, but I could find no answer to the stream of fucking questions. Jamison, you cunt, how did that happen?! I didn’t know then, I don’t know now, what the hell happened?! He yawned. Piece of junk. That was adorable.   "Good morning.” Send help, that was all I could think about. Wish him a good morning too? That was a great idea!   "G'day.“ I cracked a smile, it was so nervous my cheeks were hurting like hell. His on the other hand… he opened his eyes slowly at first, a chuckle escaped his soft lips when he saw my face.   "Still a bit embarassed, aren’t we?” I wanted to kiss the shit out of him. I could not bring myself to speak, he was just too handsome. Lúcio sat up and opened his arms, the sheet sliding off his figure to reveal his dark skin. He beckoned me to hug him, his head tilting to the side. Was I allowed to?! I got closer but didn’t dare to… he took me by surprise when he just launched himself in my arms, snuggling his face in my neck. I was stiff… so stiff…

 “It’s a shame, but you two should leave the hotel…” After getting dressed, that was not the first topic I wanted to cover, but frog boy was right. We really needed to get out of that place.   "Gotcha, we’ll get out in a second.“   "I’m telling this for your sake, people might recognise you in here…” He was pouting, as if he thought we had been offended by his consideration. I smiled at him.   "If they do, we might as well just kidnap you, right?“ I still wanted to kidnap him, at that time more than ever. I didn’t want to leave Lúcio’s side yet.   "Too clichè at this point, don’t you think?”   "Yeah, poor 'Hog over there would just throw me another one on the head if I tried to.“ We both laughed it off as I picked up my stuff, packed it into my bag and threw it from the window and on the car below. Roadie said he was going on ahead and said goodbye to Lúcio with a powerful handshake before slowly taking the outdoor stairs to the ground floor. I stood in the living room for a bit, bludging. Frog boy finally walked up to me, his hand travelling high to my neck, asking me to bend for him, which I gladly did. His lips on mine felt just so right, I wanted more again. He pinched my nose when he understood my intentions when I forced the kiss. But I didn’t want to let go yet, I wanted him close to me… my small sunshine… my adorable frog…   "Call me, ‘kay?” He kissed the tip of my nose, stroking my face. “I’ll be waiting.”   "I don’t want to wait.“   "We’ll both have to.” I kissed him that time around, I couldn’t help it. Just a quick peck, just to… make sure he still wanted me to. He did, he smiled again. That precious smile.

It’s been a while now, back to the crime-sprees, just me and old 'Hog… fells good, mate. The world knows our names, we are wanted by so many people: we are just like superstars! We are so cool that we always have bucks in our wallets, foods in our stomachs, bombs in our hands and first-row in concerts granted for life. What a great life we are living! Maybe the running from the cops part is not that great, especially if they interrupt the concert to smoke you out… I hate it when they do it, I just want to enjoy some music! I always have to get up from my seat, guzzle my tea and start running.

A hero association we thought was done for actually contacted us once. They asked us to join: the world could always use more heroes! We are crazy criminals, don’t even joke about that, girl. Someone else did join though… he, a dj, a freedom fighter and now a “hero"… well, I had to see it coming. He was just too suited for a role like that, he was born to be a hero. Or was he?

I love his music, even if when I do go all the way to watch him perform, that’s when the police finds me… still, not sure who is following who at this point, we just bump into each other, like magnets, every land we go he’s there for us, every place we run to, he has already a date planned. We can’t stay much together when we meet, but it’s fine, he’s just a call away. He’s a tune away, he’s a nothing away.

Good job on surviving until the end, you earned yourself a cookie <3

Remember that I am still not a native English speaker so I have limits.

[crosis101-blog]

Ghost Recon: Moral Ambiguity

Presented with a clear dossier, I know El Sueno and The Santa Blanca Cartel are operating in Bolivia. They are ruthless, unforgiving, and exploiting the population. I, a member of the Dark Black operator unit known only as “Ghosts”, am sent to dismantle, brick by brick, this Narco-State and its regime based in cult, crime, and exploitation. Ghost Recon Wildlands then is the sort of game I want to play. I want to pretend I am something I am not, and I want to be unambiguous in my motivations.  

As an honest to god Cold War Baby, as a big a product of the Military/Industrial Complex as any Deuce and a Half that ever rolled off a GM assembly line, I am in the bag for a narrative of Americans making the world a better place for other people who are being oppressed. I believed the lines, and while I have never been unaware of the history of my country, I feel that at the core, the ideals presented by the United States would be great if we could implement them. So, when Ghost Recon: Wildlands was announced I lost my mind.

The pre-game footage for Wildlands looked amazing. The story was more topical this time with Mexican Drug Cartels in Bolivia. Bringing the Ghosts “home” changes up the formula from the Advanced Warfighter era. The villain of that era was the Russian Ultranationalist. Shorthand for a group of people who believed that the Russian people were better under the jackbooted heel of Soviet style communism. They see themselves as strong men, or just merely used the trappings of the Soviet as an excuse to install criminal cartels. The Russian people are the true victims of all of this. As such we are never wondering why we are fighting for the Russian people and against the Ultranationalists. I went into Ghost Recon Wildlands being their fan to lose, and they didn’t. They kept the story going with interesting characters, a compelling story there was even interesting interplay between the four main characters while I was driving or flying through Bolivia. Without spoilers, the ending is everything that I would expect from this type of game, and has a world view, while a bit dark and cynical I can believe it.

All of that adds up to a game experience where I can be, while maybe not proud of what I am doing, at least satisfied. I am on the side of the angles and justice is being done. I am not a random killing machine, I am an invisible laser, a scalpel, not turned loose on a random population but there to excise a tumor. Through the story, I get to see how big the tumor is and how much it has metastasized, but it is a tumor, a cancer, something strangling the people who just want to live and work in Bolivia. I even hook up with the rebel forces who oppose the Nacro-State, and provide them aid and comfort. As the story grows, they become closer and closer allies. Ghost Recon: Breakpoint, the newest entry in the series and released recently, is not any of these games. While mechanically like Wildlands, the tone of the game is vastly different. I don’t think the advancement or skill trees are relevant to my points, but they exist. They neither build into, nor take away from my feelings about the game, they simply are. While playing the game we are given the setup that a US Naval transport was sunk off an island. We are given no context for this action. It is not an island I know the name of, and in fact I looked it up to see if it is even real. It is not real. Using fictional lands in videogames is a long tradition. It allows video game developers to get up and away from politics, especially when dealing with sensitive subjects like crime or counter-insurgency. This is no different, but in divorcing the game from a real-world context the I now must be taught everything about the land. In a post-colonial world, I am asked to believe that this island was a gift to the American government, and yet I almost immediately discover remnants of a civilization, worship sites, idols and trail markers, so the way the island is procured is brought into question. The way the island came into the hands of the people on it is important because I am asked to side almost immediately, and indeed our base is, with people that are referred to as “homesteaders”. Sure, I am given the information that they are former veterans of the Cold War that decided not to relocate after their tours were over, but that doesn’t change what concepts I am exposed to as the player, and so I feel I have to make choices about who I believe and what they are saying and how that relates to me. Heady stuff, but something I feel is important to my gameplay experience. I want to roleplay through my experience. I want to identify with and empathize with the main character. There is a quote from Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut that says, “Be careful what you pretend to be, for in the end we are what we pretend to be.” That’s not to say I can’t find escapism in video games, obviously I can, but I want the moral choices of the characters to line up with my own. I don’t play GTA, I ended my Mass Effect runs as bury the needle Paragon, and when I tried a replay of Knights of the Old Republic, and upon choosing my first Dark Side choice I nearly threw up. My power fantasy is being Superman, being strong enough to make a difference and help people. The power fantasy of being Superman is at play in Ghost Recon for me. The character I am playing is highly skilled, very specialized and one of the best at what they do. As I was playing my character in Breakpoint my will to act with my avatar broke down. I was lying in wait as some of  the Wolves, the PMC folks that have taken over the island and definitive bad guys, were chasing my character. I slipped behind a rock, setting an ambush and dispatching them. As they lay dead in the road and I thought about moving their bodies (a feature new to Breakpoint. In previous Ghost Recon games I just had to leave bodies where they dropped) but I noticed on my HUD that there is an enemy car approaching, marked in red. Standard fair. I dropped back into my rock ambush and let them pass. After they passed, I emerged from my rocks, bringing my LMG up (I don’t remember which one as Breakpoint has me swapping weapons every five minutes) and put a couple of rounds into the tailpipe. I thought in this game, either this cooks the car off, or at least gets their attention. The car turned. I ,in ADS, LMG in my shoulder, squeezed the trigger, putting about 50 rounds into the crew compartment of the vehicle. The vehicle rolled to a stop. Both occupants were dead. I checked for a third in the gunner position, but there is no one. The bodies of the two dead NPCs are slumped in the cockpit of the buggy. I began to think about who these two people were. The vehicles in the game now announce, in the form of text overlay, what faction and what “level” they are, for example “Scenery Standard” was a pickup I stole last night, where “Overwatch, Rockets” was a Helicopter. This buggy said, “Security Standard”. They weren’t Wolves, and as far as I knew in the game up to that point, they were just the security forces for Skeltech (the big multinational who owns most of the island and was development the technology), the equivalent of gunning down the security guards in front of any tech corporation I’ve worked for. They aren’t evil by default. They are folks trying to earn a living. I started to get a sinking feeling. These weren’t cartel guys, they were just folks on the job. They tried to keep Jace Skel, the Steve jobs of this story, safe. After I thought about this a moment, I proceeded down the road in the direction of my objective, and I was on foot. The game rewards ground level exploration, unlike in Wildlands, so there is an incentive to not just fly over everything in a helicopter. As I proceeded up the road a little bit, I received a small red blob on my HUD which meant enemies ahead. I approached, they didn’t see me, and I gunned them down. At this point, I shut off the game and sat and thought about what was going on. I experienced this story to this point: the island went dark, no one knows why. I’ve recovered from a helo crash, but that was done by a comrade and former Ghost who now commands the Wolves. There is nothing to suggest in the story that the security forces are working WITH the Wolves, other than the professional courtesy any fulltime unit in an organization would give contractors. We don’t even know if these security forces are being lied to. Contrast this with Wildlands where my CIA handler gives me the lay of the land from the get-go. The Mexican Cartel took over Boliva, and Unidad, the armed forces who should stop Santa Blanca aligned with them and while not fully under their control, provide protection.

If I don’t know why I am attacking these people other than IFF on a HUD paints them red, then the game is not doing its job in storytelling. I am willing to stick through it, but it gives me a very weird feeling in my stomach.  

I don’t feel like I am on the side of the angles when I am ripping through these NPCs in the game. I feel like I am slaughtering folks for no reason other than I feel like it. I don’t play Tom Clancy games for that. I don’t want to play Ghost Recon: GTA. Last night as I played through more of the game, it gave me more information that the security forces may be oppressive under the rule of the person leading them. Again, that may be, but when presented with how the game shows these people, they are not shown oppressing anyone. The game doesn’t go out of its way to help reinforce this. Every time these security forces are shown being particularly hateful or dangerous to my player character they are under the charge of Wolves. This leads me to suspect that if the Wolves’ influence were removed, the security forces could be reasoned with. All of this leads to a game experience where it is obvious the game wants me to eliminate people to progress, and there is no way around that, but I don’t want to because my motivations for doing so are not strong enough to cross my own personal moral bar.

As if in supernatural response to this criticism, last night while I was playing, one of the security forces yelled at me while charging, “SkelTech is ours now!” I guess that could be some motivation, but nothing else in the game had reinforced that yet. I still wait for the game to tell me why I can let fly with impunity other than these people believe, “here’s the guy who was on those Blackhawks we shot down, we were told they were all dangerous, and armed, and they killed some of us already, so shoot to kill.” and I know that isn’t true. They chase me because of the motivation they were fed. My choice is either to punish them for defending a lie, which they don’t know is a lie, allow them to kill my character, or not play the game. I worked to divorce myself from this moral quandary and play the game.  At this point I am removed from the story. The game is just a tactical puzzle like Metal Gear Solid VR Missions for me. Maybe other people don’t have the same problem, but I do. I want to be righteous in my game play. I want to be on the side of angels. I want to do good, not gun down people who don’t even know why I am there, or while I don’t even know why I am there. I learned at a young age to think about my actions. Throughout my life, I didn’t stop my analysis. From my every day interactions, to my online social participation, to the characters I read, and play I think about my actions. The actions of my character as required by the conditions of Ghost Recon Breakpoint, for me, boarder on unconscionable. The amount of immersion breaking mental gymnastics I do to be ok with my character’s actions are extreme. In my opinion this keeps Ghost Recon Breakpoint from being the fun but challenging release that Ghost Recon Wildlands is. In the end maybe I should just go back to Bolivia, and help the freedom fighters, at least there I knew why I was doing it.

[wellesleyunderground]

Four Weddings and a Funeral reviewed by Lakshmi Gandhi (@LakshmiGandhi) & Asha Sundararaman ‘04 (@mixedtck)

This review first appeared on Lakshmi and Asha’s weekly newsletter - sign up here!

We love a good rom com and screenwriter Richard Curtis's 1994 "Four Weddings and a Funeral" has always been a favorite of the genre. (Who could forget Hugh Grant at his most bumbly and floppy-haired as he courts the elusive Andie McDowell?)

That was one of the reasons we were both surprised and intrigued when it was announced that Mindy Kaling would be making a Hulu series based on the classic film. This is also one of the reasons it pains us so much to reveal that the resulting series is NOT GOOD. In fact, it's pretty actively bad and is strange and painful to watch.

Fortunately, we watched (most of!) the available episodes so that you, dear readers, don't have to.

(Editor's note: As usual, we're going to spoil everything, but we can't imagine anyone voluntarily spending their time with these characters, so it's ok!)

Lakshmi: Asha, I hadn't read anything about this series going in for once, so while I knew the reviews were iffy I simply wasn't prepared for the extent of the badness. All of the scripts felt like first drafts? None of the romantic relationships made sense?! The New York Times review was brutal:

The show, which has almost nothing in common with the film except for a London setting, comes from the creators Mindy Kaling and Matt Warburton, but without any of the clever sparks they brought to “The Mindy Project.” Though it is set in England, the four main characters are American. They are allegedly best friends, but no one has anything in common nor do any of them have any chemistry, platonic or romantic. The inevitable couple seems like a bad match, and no two characters seem like they’re on the same show. Do not go to the chapel; do not get married.

Asha: I hadn't read much about it either. (Also, full disclosure, I actually haven't watched the original movie.)

Lakshmi: What?! We need to get that fixed immediately. But (as you’ve probably guessed) the basic premise is that Hugh Grant goes to four weddings and a funeral (of course) and all of the characters grow and change as a result of those five events.

Asha: Right, makes sense. (Also, I promise that I will watch the original film soon.)

Lakshmi: But in addition to the original being super white and super upper crust English (which is different from this adaptation in perhaps a bad way) the film had a lot of depth. This series has all American main characters and is just strange because so many aspects are nonsensical.

First, what are the odds that all of your good friends from your college experience in the US will land cushy jobs in London?!

Asha: Right?! I went to grad school in London, so I kept wondering how all of them had work visas! Banking, I could see, but starting a design business? Working as a teacher? None of it makes sense!

Lakshmi: And none of them even have English parents or seemed to go to grad school there (two other routes to getting visas). Also, since none of them are actually married when the series begins, they don’t qualify for spousal visas either.

Asha: Exactly.

Lakshmi: So there was a definite "what about Brexit? How did any of you get visas?" feeling throughout my viewing experience.

Asha: Mine too, especially having lived there.

Lakshmi: Yes! And you can definitely speak more one this (I've never lived in the United Kingdom) but my impression has always been that it is REALLY hard to get a UK work visa. And Brexit of course makes it clear that the political climate is not friendly to non-UK born people or immigrants of any kind.

Asha: it's definitely not easy. I know people who've done it post-grad school, mostly working for multinational corporations. But moving to London after college on a whim? Nah.

Lakshmi: Right. The only people I know who moved to London on a whim did so without documentation (meaning they worked off the books in restaurants while they had their quarter life crisis or whatever).

So Brandon Mychal Smith's character's job is the only one that sounds legit (he works for a giant financial institution.)

Plus,  these people would never be friends in real life. Additionally, no one is likeable and no one has anything in common. There is no thread that unites them at all (and the same goes for all of their partners)

But let's back up a little and talk about the plot.

The pilot episode starts with Maya (Nathalie Emmanuel from ‘Game of Thrones’) arriving in Heathrow for one of the weddings in the show's title. Her bag goes missing and she throws a fit (she's extremely unlikeable in those scenes!) and an airline manager, the middle aged British Pakistani Haroon Khan (who is played by the Indian actor Harish Patel) asks his son Kash to help her.

That is the big meet cute of the first episode. The twist of course is that Maya soon discovers that Kash is engaged to her friend Ainsley and in fact their wedding is the one Maya flew to London to attend. I have no idea what Kash and Ainsley saw in each other and the subsequent scenes never give us any clues either!

Asha: Well, to be fair, I think that was the point. They liked the facade of each other, rather than who they actually were.

Lakshmi: But they never talked about anything? Ainsley is definitely part of the one percent (her parents fund her entire business AND rent a London townhouse for her.) Kash lives with his widower father and little brother in a working class neighborhood.

Plus they were going to have a Church of England wedding and no one talks about how they are of different faiths (the dad mentions it as an aside only after things go south). And the dad makes a joke about not drinking alcohol yet Ainsley gifts Kash with whiskey glasses (I get that Kash obviously drinks alcohol, but it's still strange that they ever made a "oh we're not supposed to be doing this" joke or anything.

Asha: Well, it is pointed out in episode 2 that the whiskey glasses were a bad gift...

Lakshmi: But not because of the religious tradition thing! But because of because of the impersonal nature of whiskey glasses as a gift.

And it's strange (especially in England of all places) to have a relationship like that and never talk about money or standing or whatnot.  It was one of the many reasons I wished this show had been transported to New York or Boston or LA or somewhere else in the United States.

Asha: But once again, that was kind of the point, they didn't talk about anything!

Lakshmi: So why were they getting married in the first place? And all of the couples had the same problem! They were all terrible communicators.

Asha: Yes, that's true.

Lakshmi: Why were Zara and Craig together?

Asha: I have no idea.

Lakshmi: Craig was the Brandon Mychal Smith character who worked at the huge bank. Zara herself spent a lot of her time exotifying him too.

I also need to point out (and this continues Mindy's terrible record with regard to writing Black characters)  all of Craig’s storylines were AWFUL and I feel comfortable calling them othering and borderline racist.

For example, there is a joke in which Craig says six girls asked him to prom and the punchline is that "one of them was my Spanish teacher." (And readers know me well enough by now to know that was a huge cringe and a big no for me.)

And then! He gets a message out of the blue from a girl he hooked up with six years ago and it turns out.. dun dun dun... he has a secret baby! Gross and also... why didn't they give one of their upper crust white British male characters that storyline? Choosing to give your only Black character a secret baby is a weird decision! It just seemed unnecessary and his partner was so disconnected from him and the realities of his life.

Basically, I cannot believe that money and class weren't more of an issue in all of these relationships with British people. Mindy must have read Austen at some point? (or any other British novel, hahaha)

Asha: One would think! But they actually do bring up class issues a bit in episode three with their British friend Gemma. She's "new money" which means she ends up being the butt of the joke in her British social circles.

Lakshmi: Yes, that was interesting! But by episode three the series had been so frustrating to me that I couldn't appreciate the good parts as much as I should have. For example, episode one was BAD but episode two was JUST MEDIOCRE and episode three was JUST OK but the badness of the pilot made my tolerance for the rest go down a bunch.

Asha: I want to say that the show does have some good parts! I enjoyed the relationship between Kash and his family.

Lakshmi: Yes, I loved that as well. The dad was a well written character. And they watch a British game show that is a lot like Jeopardy! every night, which felt like something most South Asian families would do Plus there were little asides where they did talk about religion and those also felt real.

Asha: I actually feel like the dynamic between Kash, Kash's dad and his brother was the best part of the show. All three were the standout characters of the series.

Lakshmi: I wish they had made Kash the central character, rather than Maya.

Asha: Agreed.

Lakshmi: And the child who played the little brother Asif was also very good.

Asha: Definitely

Lakshmi: I liked this thread by the author Rachel Hawkins on the show:

Nathalie Emmanuel deserves better than Four Weddings and a Funeral, OOF. I ADORE Mindy Kaling, but this is so bad I kind of can't believe it exists.

Asha: The entire show was just so underwritten.

Lakshmi: And I know I keep sounding like a broken record but we never really see why these characters are friends.

Asha: Well, they might be that group of college friends who are best friends because they were best friends in college and would have grown apart if it weren't for the fact that they all moved abroad

Lakshmi: Perhaps... but usually those tight bonds don't last even if you do end up being in the same place. I mean, why live in England (or set your show in England) if the characters hang out with and act like Americans all day.

Asha: Hahaha, that was the one realistic thing to me actually

Lakshmi: I don’t know...this would have been a great show to set in Boston or another upper crust New England town. I show featuring characters that went to boarding school and their working class New England friends would have been so good. (and that concept hasn't been explored in a modern day show in a while.) Plus, Mindy is from Massachusetts! She missed the boat there!

Asha: Well...she did go to private school, and to Dartmouth....

Lakshmi: So it's her world! She should have done it!

Asha: Her world was minus the working class New Englanders!

Lakshmi: She could have gotten other writers for those scenes. I feel like a lot of the parts that especially annoyed us would have been eliminated had this been an American show..

Asha: That's probably true.

Lakshmi: You've seen “Love Actually,” right?

Asha: Yes.

Lakshmi:  So a lot of the scenes here were like “Love Actually” fanfiction (another thing reviewers pointed out.) There's a novelist who flirts with a woman who speaks English as a second language. There's a weird choir that pops up during one of the weddings.

Those scenes with the French teacher did illustrate how fragile male writers are!

Asha: Hahahahaha

Lakshmi: Seriously though! Anyway, the character Duffy gives her a draft of his novel to read. It's a 1200 page book (and everyone knows about my strong belief that nothing needs to be above 350 pages!) and he asks her for honest feedback.

But when he receives honest feedback he goes nuts and acts like a baby (which is totally unsurprising.) He’s even so upset that he asks her to leave his home.

Asha: he does make amends later on, once he realizes that none of his friends who praised his book had actually read it.

For the record, her feedback was that there were 20 pages of that 1200 that were great! Plus, those pages she liked were at the end, so he should be appreciative that she engaged with the work! His was so gross and so thin-skinned.

Asha: it really means that you're too attached to your work and that you see it as a reflection of who you are as a person. It also means you're not ready to be a professional writer.

Lakshmi: I strongly feel that the way people respond to edits reflects who they are as a person. This has nothing to do with the show at all really, but I maintain there is one way to know everything you need to know about a person, and that’s by FACT CHECKING THEIR WORK.

The person who blows up when you ask "oh,where did you get that stat from?” is insecure in all aspects of their life. Also, "Remember to spell check" is never a personal attack, but you'd be surprised at how many people act as if it is! So I think that's why I had such a personal reaction to that scene (and kept wondering at why Mindy and the other writer put it in.)

Asha: Hmm...I don't agree that it reflects who they are as a person. But i do think it means they're probably insecure, ha.

Lakshmi: So you do agree it reflects SOME aspects of their personality. I don’t know, as a fact checker, I just want to make sure we're accurate and don’t get sued! But I'm kind of used to people blowing up when I ask questions like "can you send me the link to this study?" (which should be a neutral question but rarely is).

ANYWAY, another annoying thing was how Maya randomly decides to stay in England after going through her own breakup and then starts interviewing with Members of Parliament essentially right away. Again, my brain went to the place of "what about Brexit?!”

Asha: Same.

Lakshmi: Even the most liberal Labour Party member probably doesn't want to deal with the optics of hiring an American on a whim? There are people in England who would kill for those jobs...

But it was interesting to see Maya process the aftermath of her affair. She had been working for a New York Senator and had an affair with him. She then realizes that she never knows why these other politicians are granting her interviews. Are they hoping for an affair as well?

(Maya is VERY talented but she feels like people are overlooking her skills because of her personal life.) I actually thought those scenes were some of the most realistic of the series.

Asha: Well, other than the fact that she was an American interviewing for British political positions, which as we’ve noted wasn’t at all realistic.

Lakshmi: Of course. But that internal conflict was very real.

Lakshmi: OK, we went well over our usual time! (We always have strong feelings about Mindy's work!) My final thought was that I just couldn’t believe this novelist dude thought his friends had read his work.

I feel like writers would be a lot happier if they realized their nearest and dearest probably aren't going to read their stuff (and oftentimes won't even buy their stuff!) and that sometimes that is all for the best.

Asha: Agreed.

Lakshmi: Also if you ask for honest critique and then blow up when you receive it 1) you aren't a good person 2) you shouldn't write publicly, because Goodreads reviewers aren't going to be as kind as a woman invited to your house as a guest. (She was really sweet about delivering the feedback; everyone should be that kind and deliberate when giving honest reactions.)

[cepmurphy]

20 Elections - 20 Notes

During the general election, I wrote twenty different alternate history shorts. Here’s the thinking and points of diversion behind them: (SPOILERS) #1: You Won’t Get Me, I’m Part Of The Union This one, you can tell it was written when Le Pen was clearly going to make it Round 2 of the 2017 French elections. (Banks is in UKIP financier Aaron Banks) The title is from a hit song in the 70s about trade unions. Famously, a desperate French President Reynaud in 1940 proposed a vaguely defined “Anglo-French Union” in the hope of keeping his government going and France fighting. Any such union would, of course, stick together only in conflict. Of the other three union members, Ireland was secretly offered Northern Ireland back if it joined the war effort in 1943 and Gabon did hold a referendum on independence or remaining part of France. Britain was lucky in that it’s the only European empire to have escaped decolonisation without a long, bloody war (for us rather than the locals) to retain colonies that we then lost anyway. France fought two such wars in Algeria and Vietnam - if we were bonded to them, we wouldn’t be so lucky as real life. #2: A Popular Mandate The title is a mean dig at pro-Brexit’s talk of mandates but the story is based on Erdogan’s increasingly autocracy in Turkey. (And he too held a referendum) The POD is another famous one: the coup plots against Harold Wilson by a few idiots in MI5 and press magnate Cecil King, with Lord Mountbatten intended as the interim leader. In real life it was a damp squib but if it had happened, then the door would be opened for more coups - the spell that we call “peaceful exchange of power” would be shattered and, like a few other countries, we might never get it back. Dimbleby as in David Dimbleby, the BBC’s undying election night host. #3: These Colours Don’t Run IRON MAIDEN!!! One of their many songs about war and armies, of course. The Iraq War was a hugely defining event, the two of the one-two punch that started with September 11. It hangs over every foreign military engagement for a dozen countries and makes people leery of any big involvement. And the Iraq War happened solely because George Bush and his chums won, and were given an opening by 9/11 - so you just need the votes in Florida to change and then, we just have a string of successful, “cheap” interventions from Falklands on (or so we’d remember them). Is that notoriously gobby Jess Philips as Labour leader, battling against notoriously urg-not-HIM Liam Fox? I can’t possible comment. #4: Carry On As in “keep calm and”, written not so long after a terrorist attack. A statement had to be made. #5: Meet The New Bosses This one comes from two things: the unprecedented success of Macron in France and the collapse of the big parties that allowed it, and the many, many fluctuating polls in our election. Labour and the Tories seem like stable, unstoppable forces but such certainties can change - as seen by the obliteration of the Lib Dems and SNP eating all other parties in 2015, as well as France. All it would take is a bit of time and both parties screwing up - the wrong leaders at the wrong time, rather than the zeitgeist-nabbing Blair and Cameron. (Danzcuk was exposed as a creepy sexter after seeming like a righteous campaigner so imagine if he’d got power...) Cole from story #1 is back but in a different role due to the different timeline. That comes from Kim Newman’s Life’s Lottery, where the same cast appear over and over in different roles & personalities depending on what choice the reader makes. (Vince as in Cable, Abbott as in Diane) Why Dundee? Cos the Beano, home of Roger the Dodger, is from there. The Yorkshire Party is actually real but has never won a thing. The BNP hasn’t either, but here they benefit from UKIP never supplanting them and stand as the Front National standins. #6: Status Quo Statistically, it’s weird that we not only have had only two women PM’s who were the only two female party leaders at UK level and so few women seriously run for the job. I wonder what could ever be the reason for that. I wonder. All female leaders mentioned are real prominent politicians, some more than others. Davidson is Ruth Davidson, Scottish Tory leader and at the time of writing, I didn’t expect her to be the Tory’s shining light in 2017, the one gaining them seats without loss. Maybe she will be a potential PM soon.... #7: The Old Familiar Stain The title comes from the song Hurt, by NIN and then Johnny Cash. A recurring claim in Britain is the Empire wasn’t so bad and we brought civilisation to the heathens, even if we know not to say White Man’s Burden now - this even as we hear time and again about atrocities we glossed over at the time. (Kenyans who were tortured during the Mau Mau uprising did go to the High Court a few years ago) Surely we’d not think that if we’d been good socialists, right? Politicians mentioned are all key Labour people through history - including party founder Keir Hardie - with “Uncle Arthur” a nickname for Arthur Henderson. Only Ramsay Macdonald got to be PM in real life, and in difficult circumstances. #8: The Big Society Title is, of course, a mean dig at a Cameron slogan. A bunch of alternate history and sci-fi stories have multinational megastates and power blocks. Council elections are often meagre because they’re considered to not really be powerful - why wouldn’t that happen in a hypothetical ‘megastate’? The POD here is no American Revolution, leading to increasingly powerful dominions within empire, leading to here. Philadelphia was America’s prime city before the revolution and temporarily a capital. #9: A Sense of Proportion I was in a defiantly optimistic mood for this one. Back in 2011, we decided not to move to a different electoral system - alternative vote rather than this timeline’s single transferable - but stick with first-past-the-post instead. Voting models show this would prevent a majority Tory government and lead to UKIP's 4m voter surge giving them more than one seat. That would not have been sustainable, hence the early election after all. Ed Miliband really has had a change of reputation in certain circles: once he was no longer party leader, he started to be quite funny and play social media like a fiddle. That, it seems, was the real Ed all along and he was covering it up. Once you take fear away... #10: Special Relationships You can all tell what this one’s about. Ruth Davidson returns, this time with Louise Mensch, former MP and major Trump & Putin hater. Having her be in Cabinet is a stretch but hey, narrative. Operation Sea Lion is the famous Nazi plan to invade Britain - and in violation of alternate history, most historians are pretty sure Sea Lion would have failed. If that had happened, you alter the shape of World War Two. The barbed comments about America “being late” for the war are still made now, after we were allies together, and if America had never shown up at all (and without Pearl Harbor it may not have) then all we ‘know’ about transatlanic relations is out the window. #11: The Great Blue Hope Popularly, the Falklands was what saved Thatcher’s first term. A divisive government, high unemployment, and an eyecatching new opposition party in the SDP could have nobbled her without the war - and the war could have easily gone against us. And once you’re a failed party, you can be a failed party for a generation. The many annoying answers to door-knocking are all things that I’ve seen or heard canvassers & politicians mention. It’s a right slog.

#12: Clever, Clever, Clever I Don’t Like Michael Gove: The Novelisation. Gove really did backstab Boris Johnson in the real world’s 2016 party race. Now we know that’s what Mr “I Don’t Want To Be PM” would do. We also have allegations he was at dinners with Trump allies that Cambridge Analytica set up. He was a Brexiteer - and once the Prime Minister is taking a stance, that side can no longer claim to be the anti-establishment vote. Labour and the Lib Dems going into coalition in 2010 is a recurring ‘what if’ in political thought. It’s public record how many people in Labour didn’t want to, however, and if the Lib Dems were doomed for helping Tories imagine if they’re propping up a ‘failed’ government. It’df definitel;y be Tories winning next. Liz Kendall came nowhere near winning the Labour leadership in our time but she did get brief attention for playing the Young One card - after 17 years of power and looking tired in public, Labour would want young. #13: Frankenstein Must Vote The further we get from the 80s, the dafter the “video nasties” thing seems. A bunch of horror movies, many not that bad except in production value terms, being effectively banned in the UK, that far into the 20th century? The past is another country. Hammer Horror did not, in real life, survive the mid-70s but it could have, maybe, with a bit more effort. Zepellins vs Pterodactyls really was a planned film. There’s Cole again! (And Ansari from #5, in passing) Yeovil is a penname for Kim Newman. #14: Mission Control A Newquay spaceport is a controversial idea the Tories pitched this year. Could it even work? We may find out, we may not. British space agencies have never quite worked the way we dream about them. Black Knight was almost a real rocket system but, in the end, did not happen. Money was only going to pay for so much and realistically, any UK NASA would be limited. However, it could change us despite that - as Warren Ellis once argued for Ministry in Space, our space fiction is the cry of a declining Britain, hungry to believe there was something else to do. Another big nation involved in space flight would also transform the space race, even if it sucked at it. Charles Kennedy never became PM but could - maybe should - have. #15: And I Would Make Five Hundred K The SNP once helped keep Labour in power in the 70s and in exchange, they got a referendum on devolution - one that did not succeed. If it had, it is possible independence may have happened earlier, and (for the plot to work) we’re saying Scotland was less hit by Thatcher’s policies and instead turned them into Scotland’s own. With oil and financial dealings, an independent Scotland could prosper - and would be prey to large foreign sharks. We often think of an independent Scotland as mega-left because we assume the modern SNP will run it and start it off. It’s not a hard law. Oor Wully (”Our Willy” in phoenetic) is a long-running Scottish comic strip. Trump’s mother came out of Scotland and if this was blowing up at the time his businesses were doing bad in the States, I can see him shifting. #16: The Glorious Status Quo The Glorious Revolution - named by English people as for us, it was bloodless - saw parliament call in foreign Protestant monarchs to replace a more catholic-friendly one. This was a huge influence in our politics (and killed thousands upon thousands in Scotland and Ireland) as well as global, ending the Anglo-Dutch rivalry. Catholic-Protestant divides of the time mean even if it didn’t happen, something would at some point. Now this one was a toughie because with this far back a diversion, the world needed to be as different as I could get it without being incomprehensible. The tech, the landmarks, the ethnicities (Native American immigration) all get tweaks. For Tradesman Party, read Labour.

#17: Rock The Vote One thing that keeps going around is that Tony Blair - this is honestly the truth - wanted to get into music and was part of a student rock band. It would only take a bit more success on that front and Blair could have done that for a career instead of becoming an MP. I can’t say if he’d ever be that great a musician but in New Labour’s heyday he had the charisma, the drive, and ability to connect with the common man that, if he did have talent, would make him a star.

He used to be further left in his youth but got turned off by the hard left, as he says here. Blair was one of the main people pushing for action on Kosovo so sadly without him, that’s not stopped. #18: Heard Around The World Britain did not go fascist, unlike many other European nations. If we had, it would have eventually ended - but as with #2, once you’ve opened that bottle, the genie isn’t going back in. (You could also be sure America would back a right-wing post-fascist government over a socialist one) We’ve seen time and again that when certain governments get into power in certain countries, they may not last long.

Part of the inspiration was the Gambia, where the recent election had ended in the incumbent ignoring the result and the winning party have to flee abroad to get aid from the African Union.

Paisley as in the notorious Reverend Iain Paisley, Creasy as in Labour’s Stella Creasy, and Labour heavyweight Aneurin Bevan was from Wales.

#19: Big Boy’s Rules Britain is a big nation that’s not as big as it once was and ones to be bigger again. That compulsion to be big won’t go away. As noted before, Suez was what did us in as an imperial power - and made it clear Europe was out, the US and USSR were in. But militarily, it almost worked. A bit of extra time and we’d have won. And if we’d won, we wouldn’t care about the murkiness and the morality. #20: It’ll Be Alright On The Night Writtem very shortly before the vote. Simple diversion: Brexit does not happen. Everything follows on from there. To keep things as unclear as they seemed in our time, I arranged for both Tories and Labour to have weak, unpopular leaders - both seen as shifty. In hindsight, I’ve set up Labour to be stuffed unless it gets a coalition deal and I, like many, overestimated the third party vote collapse.

[corporatetrainingsolutions]

Thailand Culture Training: 4 Rules to Unite Thais and Expat Teams

Building a multicultural team in Thailand? Unite your Thais and Expats as one using my four rules for Thailand culture training learned from 20 years experience team building.

Thailand Culture Training Rule 1 – It is about Personality, not Rules!

Both Thais and expats have great qualities that the other group appreciates. When I conduct pre-training cultural surveys the results show this.

Thais frequently comment that expatriates are systematic, goal-oriented, confident and driven. And the expatriates admire their respect, calm attitude, loyalty and strong social qualities that their Thai counterparts bring to the team.

Yet, it is weird that the very same attributes that the Thai people love above expatriates and expatriates love about foreigners are often cited as evidence of the things that we also dislike about each other.

Expatriates complain that Thais are “not independent enough”, “miss deadlines” and “never speak up”. But isn’t this the flip side of their respectful attitude and social qualities?

Meanwhile, Thais complain that expatriates are “arrogant”, “too direct” and “lack empathy”. But isn’t this the flip side of their confidence and goal-oriented attitude?

The problem with our best qualities is that they are also the home to our worst! What people love about us, taken to the extreme, can become annoying, upsetting or even damaging to a relationship.

So, the first thing to understand when we are dealing with culture is that every personality in our team exists on a sliding scale. The confidence that we love about people can appear like arrogance at some point. The laid-back approach we admire can seem to be apathy at others. Or, the direct approach that was appropriate yesterday, may not be appropriate right now.

So, to begin understanding how to train culture in your team, understand that Thailand Cultural Training is about developing personalities. It is not just about everyone following the cultural rules of Thailand.

If cultural training was really as easy as learning Thai culture, there would never be any conflict. But there is. And the conflict exists in every team, not just multicultural teams.

To understand why this is so, we need to understand Rule number 2.

Thailand Culture Training Rule 2 – It is Not About Culture!

Thailand culture training is not about culture! That may sound a little ridiculous, but it’s true.

When an expat comes to Thailand your Human Resources team will surely take the new staff member through all the basic Thai cultural rules. They will be told not to touch the head and not to point their feet. They will be told to respect Buddha images and the King. And they will be shown how to Wai and other such customs.

This is great. It will help the new team member avoid some basic mistakes. But it is not going to make the team stronger. After all, avoiding conflict and making the team stronger is the point of cultural training, right?

The problem is that we perceive Thailand Cultural Training as an opportunity to tell Expats how to behave in Thailand. It is perceived that this is Thailand, so visitors must learn Thai ways if they want to succeed and fit in.

Of course, this is true. But it is only partially true.

The truth is that Thailand Cultural training should create a stronger team. It should build a team culture that is not about Thais or expats at all. The team culture should reflect the vision and the mission of the business. The only question we need to answer with any training is “How do we get our team to the mission in the best way?”

It does not stop us from getting to our team goals because people come from different countries. Different perceptions stop us. These different ideas create conflict. And conflict does not only occur between Thais and expatriates, does it?

If you have worked in a Thai-only company or a company of just one nationality, was there any conflict? Of course there was! Every company has conflict. However, when we have a multinational company with different people from different cultures, it is easy to blame another nationality as the main problem.

In fact, the problem is not cultural background at all. The problem is people failing to use the same tools to get to the goals of the business.

When your team understands this point, Thailand cultural training can begin to look and feel differently. And it can begin to really work. It can begin to unite your team as one.

Thailand Culture Training Rule��3 – Train Thais and Expats Together!

One of the most crucial changes you can make to your Thailand cultural training is to train Thais and Expats together. This demonstrates to the whole team that the process of learning is not one way – from Thais to expats – but both ways.

Truing designed in this way educates your people in more than Thai culture. Thais and expats together learn a new, shared culture. This shared culture is designed to get us to the mission and vision of the company, faster, more efficiently and with less frustration and conflict.

This doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t train your expats in Thai customs. Indeed, use the training to have your Thai staff show expats how to behave properly and share their experiences. This is just the first part of creating a deeper bond between different nationalities.

The second step is to educate the Thai people on Western thinking. The reason why this is so important is that business practices, expectations, systems and hierarchies are mostly European in origin. They come from basic Greek Thinking that involves logic and compartmentalization.

So, by educating your Thai staff in these basic western ideas, they can understand why many expats have kinds of behaviors that are different from their own. Also, they will understand how the business that employs them was probably not set up in a Thai ‘family-style’ either. Most are a foreign invention with foreign rules that Thais have to adapt to as much as the expatriate has to adapt to the Thai style.

By showing both Thais and expatriates that change is a two-way street, you begin to impress upon your team the need for mutual change. Both Thais and expatriates must learn a shared culture if the business is to successfully integrate the ideas of all its people.

Thailand Culture Training Rule 4 – Unite in Skills, not just in Understanding!

The final piece of the puzzle is to teach your people shared skills. Thailand Cultural Training should not just be about learning information about one culture or another. If you do this, it will quickly be forgotten and the emphasis will only be on expats to change their habits.

A better approach is to introduce a set of team skills that the whole team can practice together once they leave the classroom. This holistic approach to learning achieves several key objectives.

Firstly it gives your participants something valuable. They can practice their team thinking skills together and the skills will add value to their personal skill-set.

Secondly, the act of working together on problem-solving will unite different people. This exercise does not just unite Thais and expatriations. It brings together people from different departments and levels of your hierarchy. Consequently, you begin to unite the whole team, regardless of their cultural background.

Finally, by sharing skills across your business you are achieving the ultimate goal. This technique really stimulates a universal culture in your business. Ultimately, this culture should not be Thai or expat at all, it should be simply the best way to achieve your company goals.

The author, Michael Paul Stephens is the founder of Provolution Consultancy, a Bangkok-based corporate training company. His Cultural Sensitivity in Thailand programs have assisted many organizations build a better team culture in multicultural businesses in Thailand.

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