#it's a shame because I can FEEL internally like I have a great design somewhere in there but I can't seem to put it to paper well.......

[zenmai--jikake--no--komoriuta]

MiqoMarch'24, Day #7: - light -

A bit of a different take on this prompt, today is all about sin eater D'nyr from the point of view of an alternate timeline where he really did become a Lightwarden!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀- observations log. 1/5/XX, day.?? - ……..thus the creature was bestowed the title of Forgiven Temperance by its former allies, following the meaning of self-sacrifice and asceticism; excessive restraint/repression of one’s self for others benefit. At his core, one can suppose that this was both his fatal flaw and driving virtue! The poor soul… To date, nobody knows for sure what the beast fully looks like, not even those who fled the site of its transformation at the depths of The Tempest! It has scarcely budged from its initial location a few moons ago… obvious logistical reasoning aside, only a scant few exploration teams have had the wherewithal to venture down there past the safety of the Ondo's dwellings. Reports have led us to believe that the creature is covered in sharp spines and has monstrously large "claw-hands" (as it was described), or possibly some sort of scorpion-like tail as well? Its profile is unclear and hard to make out in the murk from such a distance, but one thing is unanimously clear; all of our teams have fled after seeing what they claimed to be "horrifying gold eyes" staring back at them! Yet the beast has not once given chase upon sighting our researchers, which is just as unsettling as it is perplexing… Due to the unique constraints inherent to its location, we are at present unable to cull the Lightwarden and return the night to the region of Kholusia. Mercifully, its light has not pierced anywhere else due to the sheer distance from the water's surface acting as a convenient attenuating filter, but one could surmise that if the beast were to emerge then all of Norvrandt would be under light pall again… its effect on the populace is quite clear: residents have responded with equal levels of fear and also apathy to this situation, as while some are content to live their lives as they had been before (with the beast effectively "out of sight and out of mind" and therefore not a problem), others are starting to become fearful of the ocean entirely (a complicated notion, due to their relative proximity at all times to it)! Disquieting rumors have started to spread amongst fishermen and sailors alike, that if you venture too close to the ocean you'll be dragged under by the Lightwarden, never to be seen again… though one would hope most people would question how bogus this sounds-- if you'll excuse me interjecting my own personal opinion... at this juncture I simply cannot see the Lightwarden ascending from the briny deep just to prey on hapless passersby when it has showed absolutely no inclination towards moving from even just one single spot-- it has nonetheless had a noticeable impact on the region's imports and exports of fish, so now we must find an effective way to quell the people's terror to rectify the economic impacts alongside dealing with the creature too………..

------ (as a bonus, have the rough draft of his Lightwarden trial encounter under the cut! because I am sad it will never get to see the light of day otherwise and I was proud of the concept years ago lmao)

CONCEPT: . Overall theme is “the breaking down of appearances to reveal what was always there, but hidden away”-- stage and boss both change per phase to reflect this, going from a more idealistic “this is what the WoL as a sin-eater would look and fight like” to a “ohhh god what is that that’s not the WoL anymore” . Mechanics are based around D’nyr’s repressed feelings towards others (loneliness, anger/the need to lash out sometimes, not always saying how he feels, his dislike of others putting him on a pedestal, etc.) and the world at large (eg. the fragility of life, futility of some things, etc.) and his unfulfilled hopes and wants (to live unfettered by responsibility to the world, to settle down with a family of his own someday, etc.)

PHASE 1: . Certain mechanics grant a stacking buff to the boss (Fervent Denial), which is necessary to progress the fight! These mechanics have an interrupt bar and represent the feelings and things that D’nyr has repressed-- if the cast is interrupted, the buff will not be given, increasing the flat % of damage taken from the ultimate attack at the end of the next phase [it's calculated based on the damage dealt to the boss in the first phase (% thresholds that indicate how much it weakens the overall ult damage by), as well as the actual phase progress bar (below 80% is no extra damage, at 80-90% it is +3% extra damage, 90-99% an 5% extra damage, and 100% a flat wipe)] . In a meta sense, the only way to put him down for good is to damage him when he is at his most vulnerable (ie, his final form), and the only way to get him to show that is to let him go berserk and not deny him the things he’s been disallowing himself all this time-- as D’nyr at his core would never allow himself these actions, it causes a “breakdown” of the mask (literally, the bosses’ one too [he has a blank slate mask with a golden kintsugi X like D'nyr's scar, for context]) and internal walls holding him back, fracturing his perceived sense of self and causing him to shift into a form that represents all of these denied things, which is what truly needs to be destroyed/purified! . Normal mode has 7 chances to grant Fervent Denial giving some leeway for mistakes (the buff stacks cap at 5 however, so it is not possible to get 7 stacks despite there being opportunities to do so), but Extreme only has the exact 5 chances needed to progress! If players have not let the boss reach at least 5 stacks by the time the hard-enrage longcast goes out, the party will wipe. . Fervent Denial also slightly increases damage dealt by the boss, so he will gradually hit harder and harder over time, plateauing right before the phase change. . After the boss uses its phase-shift move (what would normally be the yet-unnamed hard-enrage longcast), the stacking buff will disappear and the boss will become untargetable, beginning the DPS check phase.

DPS CHECK: . Unfinished from here on out-- but basically beating up… some kind of add, and while you do that the boss' mask slowly cracks with bright light before shattering into his second form and unleashing his ultimate attack (he becomes more agitated and spiny-looking but I never finished designing any of his forms so just imagine the possibilitiiiiies)

PHASE 2 & 3: . To be continued……. or not! maybe someday :')

[flickeringart]

Saturn and narcissism

Many people have a faulty perception as to what narcissism really is. It is usually described in terms of overt behavior of self-aggrandizement, vanity and excessive self-love. This would be the over-simplified and non-helpful way to describe it, because it doesn’t pinpoint the reason for, or encompass the complexity of this character trait or “personality disorder”. When it comes to narcissism, the overt self-inflation is not really what it seems because it doesn’t spring from a true sense of grandeur. It stems from a deep sense of lack and insecurity, which the person has over-compensated for. There’s a difference between a person who is genuinely self-loving and someone who needs to focus excessively on the self and one’s success in order to not feel inferior. 

Saturn (and Capricorn for that matter) in the natal chart seems to me to be in line with what one could label “narcissism” because he is generally associated with struggle and deprivation. Saturn is indicative of a psychic lack, which can manifest itself in different ways depending on the sign placement, house placement and aspects made to other planets. Usually, there’s deep inadequacy that is felt, some void that is not filled and coped with through clever defenses. I’d like to think that most people have narcissistic traits; I have certainly not met a single person that hasn’t displayed some kind of cold and walled-off behavior. Of course, this doesn’t mean that everyone can be said to have the personality disorder, but, everyone has Saturn somewhere in their chart and his placement indicates where we have built the most rigid defenses, where we are painfully serious and where we are the most vulnerable. It is also the place where we feel the most undeveloped and infantile, and it’s often hidden behind a façade of competence or proclaimed superiority (or inferiority designed to instill guilt in other people for being better or more “accomplished”).

Narcissistic individuals can be very controlling, manipulative, false and uncaring. They can lead double lives and twist the truth to their liking. This is understandable since they are buffering themselves from a (seemingly) permanent inner wound and can’t live their lives from a place of authenticity – the pain of the void in annihilating and needs to be covered over. Feelings of guilt and shame are usually carefully contained within, but sometimes these surface in response to something small, and there’s an over-reaction that is obviously stemming from something more serious than the “superficial” trigger. Typically, people who are involved with this person feels like they have to walk on eggshells around them and might become hyper alert as to not say something that would provoke the narcissistic injury. The rage storms, critique, pessimism, skepticism and double messages are commonly displayed within personal relationships, rather than publicly, but there certainly are cold, competitive and authoritarian people in the work place and on the public arena as well. The negative traits are typically mixed with charming and likable qualities that cause confusion and cognitive dissonance in others.

In extreme cases of narcissism, to the point where it could appropriately be labeled a disorder, the person might be unable to be in touch with any sense of guilt or remorse for inflicting other people pain. This coldness is more often than not an adaptation to a very unforgiving and controlling early environment that caused the individual to put up high walls between the self and other people. When emotions are continuously taken advantage of and there’s no room for developing something real, the person must emotionally disconnect from life because the world is ruthless and non-conducive to well-being. The price for walling oneself off is internal isolation, emotional starvation and deep depression – but it’s sometimes better to be “voluntarily” starving than to be starved by the world. Although lack is usually seen as a bad thing, it comes with its own hidden treasure. It invites the opportunity to build something that is resilient and reliable that will stand the test of time, something that isn’t reliant on circumstances to exist. If anything, Saturn lends itself to being self-motivated because everyone in the external is a threat and would take pleasure (even if it’s not admitted to) in seeing another fail. Humans are quick to take delight, however slight, in another person’s relative disadvantage and weakness. People feed off of the pain of others, to varying degrees of severity.

In my own experience, I’ve found that people can be very nice and encouraging and openly supportive, only to make you feel at ease, and then they use that openness to that they’ve created in order to disempower you through instilling doubt and shame when it suits them. This is exactly how Saturn works. His function is to disarm the “opponent” (everyone is a potential threat) in order to protect the personal ego from facing annihilation. His attempt is essentially to strip away everything that isn’t real and pure within through playing the devil’s advocate. People play this ruthless game of the “devil” with each other all the time – especially when they feel vulnerable and need to drag someone down in the pit of self-doubt with them. People point out each other’s shortcomings, their deficiencies, their falsity and their hypocrisy. No one is as keen to point out the wrong doings of others than the Saturnian because he is striving for realness and substance. Everything that is built on shaky ground will be destroyed in his presence. The same can be said about the narcissistic individual – he will accuse others of being or doing the very things he is afraid are his own sins, primarily to deflect the shame, but also to test the other person’s realness or integrity. That which shatters under pressure is not very reliable and the Saturnian is looking for quality and substance. The sad thing is that just about anything can be dismantled and broken in this world – except that which can’t. What that is exactly is for people to find out for themselves.

It is often said that people with narcissism live in a false reality where everything is taken personally and the slightest hint at criticism and disapproval will tip them over into frenzy. The reaction isn’t false nor is it purely due to living in a false reality; it is a fact that people in general aren’t full-fledged saints. I have yet to meet a person that is so completely void of an ego that they don’t have any sore spots and won’t bite back if they feel that they’ve been attacked. I also haven’t met any person who has 100% altruistic motives. People nudge and coax each other all the time, which can be seen as quite innocent, but it still stems from a desire to get one’s own way. In a sense, one could claim that people only seem to care about another if there has been some kind of identification and projection of inner subconscious qualities on the other – and even that is not true caring because one really does it for the self, even if it doesn’t seem like it because it’s unconscious. A narcissistic individual with apparent difficulty to include other’s well-being as their own is perhaps more capable to do something purely altruistic because it would not give them any pleasure to be “selfless”. In other words, there is no secondary gain in genuinely acting in someone else’s best interest for these types – not even emotional satisfaction. Empathy that comes naturally is beautiful, but when it doesn’t and has to be acquired against all odds, there’s opportunity for great growth. This opportunity is character building and humbling – it really is the opportunity of building something of substance from the ground up.

Lack is not ultimately a bad thing if its treasures are valued instead of dismissed and ignored as meaningless. Being “without” is an opportunity if one can stretch one’s perception beyond the discomfort of the present. The psychic void of shame that is felt can only be filled from the inside. By cutting out the middle man (that is, “external supply”) the person becomes truly self-sufficient and non-complacent in dealing with life. Saturn is not a bad planet per se, even though it is traditionally labeled “malefic”. It simply requires more consciousness on the part of the individual and more deliberate effort. Narcissism can be a byproduct of the Saturnian dynamic, but its ugliness can be a blessing in disguise.

—————

Note: I’m not ”blaming astrology” for causing a mental disorder in this post, I’m simply exploring the Saturnian archetype and how it correlates with certain behaviors. I don’t believe any planet ”causes” specific behavior but I think that it can point to an underlying archetypal pattern at the core of certain behavioral dynamics. As stated, Saturn is representative of lack, defences and restriction in astrology - which are all necessary psychological functions. Like any function, they can be effective and healthy, but there’s always a downside to any function. I’m exploring the downside in this post.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

ASH PLEASE MORE RAFAEL I LOVE HIM I WANNA SEE HIM MEET CHRIS AGAIN WHEN HE'S FREE <3 - robinswhump

@robins-whump, here you go! Although this doesn't involve Chris, it is Raf getting a new place to stay

@whumpmasinjuly prompt: Support

CW: Escaped whumpee, touch starvation, references to past noncon/dubcon, internalized victim-blaming

Rafael thinks he preferred the little room behind the bookstore, but they told him he had to move to a real safehouse, some place where he can be to focus on getting better, and here he is.

This room in a new place seems vast, somehow, although it's not even half the size of his masters' room. He clutches an old backpack to his chest, staring around, his dark eyes skimming the small twin-size bed, neatly made-up, a blue blanket on top of plain white sheets, two pillows lined up side by side.

Carpet is somehow both scratchy and soft beneath his sock-covered feet, and he wiggles his toes a little, just to feel it. The masters never had carpet. That's new.

He likes it. It's warm.

"Will I have a roommate?" He asks the man standing just behind him, without turning his head. There's a window, and the bars on it make his heart race a little, even though they talked about it. They're for safety, the neighborhood isn't great. Just for safety.

He has a view of a small tree and a brick wall, the house next door barely far enough away. If he leaned out he feels like he could nearly touch it.

Are the bars to keep people out, or to keep him in?

"Not right away," The man says in response to his question. "You'll need some adjustment time, first."

"Does everyone get a room to themselves at first?"

"Ah... no." He introduced himself as Mr. Martin, the man who runs this safehouse, and his voice is musical, with the slightest hint of a lilt that makes Rafael think he was born somewhere far away from here. "We have to-... well. We have to keep the safety of our others in mind, too, you know? We've had some trouble in the past with... certain designations. Had a few who kept forgetting some things. It's a risk with Romantics."

Rafael closes his eyes, shame briefly twisting inside him. "Of course," He says, and his voice stays perfectly calm. He can sound calm no matter what his heart feels like, it was the first skill he mastered.

"It isn't meant as an insult, and it isn't because I think you'll do anything on purpose," Mr. Martin says. He sounds so kind, as he says the things that cut Rafael to ribbons. "It's only that we've found through experience that certain designations struggle to integrate in with the others. I'll check around for a Romantic-focused or friendlier safehouse that can take you in, but in the meantime you'll have the room to yourself. Won't that be nice?"

Rafael has never slept alone in his memory when he wasn't in training, locked in the white room, light burning through his closed eyelids. Well, then just for the couple of weeks he spent in the bookstore room, but even then he'd known there was a store cat out somewhere walking around at night. This... this is supposed to be what happens until he's ready to get out on his own.

Because he can't be trusted.

Because he's going to fuck anything that moves, right? That's what they do, they can't help themselves, they're all just fucking-

He cuts off the thought and clears his throat. "Yes, sir."

"Please. Just Mr. Martin." The man claps him on the back, in a way he must think is soothing. Rafael instinctively leans back into the touch, only to have Mr. Martin immediately pull his hand away.

"I-I'm sorry." He turns around, raising his eyes to meet Mr. Martin's, looking for some hint of warmth there. He finds it, but it isn't the warmth he knows, the one lined with desire with arrogance and ownership of him. This warmth is... frightening, in the way it's there but distant from him, too. The warmth of someone who doesn't really care that much about him at all. At least not about owning him.

Rafael only knows how to be owned.

"That's quite all right," Mr. Martin soothes, but something tells Raf it really isn't, not at all. Do the others not do this? Is this only a Romantic thing, to need the touch? Maybe he's overthinking this.

He misses the bruises his master and mistress left on him, suddenly, the indentations of their nails and teeth. Those at least told him he was wanted. Someone wanted him. He's not real if no one wants him, he's just a ghost.

No one will want him, now, damaged and used and he remembers what his handler told him. No one can love a pet, not really, except their masters.

And he's run away from his.

He deserves to feel like this, doesn't he?

No one will care about him now. Maybe no one ever did.

Somebody loved you, once. The voice is the man who helped him find his way out, who gave him a plastic feather he still keeps, that he brought with him here, rings through his mind.

He tries to remember the hope he'd felt at those words.

They lie to us all. Somebody loved you.

He pinned everything on the sincerity in the man's voice, in the look in his wide green eyes

Was he wrong?

"I'll give you the night to get used to your new room," Mr. Martin says, gesturing a little to the empty space, the little bed, the blank walls. The barred window. "We have breakfast every morning at 8 am, but you're free to come downstairs whenever you like and just scrounge around until you find something, if you'd prefer. We have lots of cold cereal, hard-boiled eggs, that kind of thing. We do ask that you not begin cooking until we've seen what you can do. Lunch is at 12:30, dinner at 6:30. Again, snack as you need to, absolutely every food that isn't labeled with a name is yours."

Rafael swallows. "I-I can't read, sir."

"Mr. Martin."

"... right. Mr. Martin."

"And I assumed as much, Romantics usually can't. Just check for black marker, and if you see black marker, assume someone's got a name on that, okay?" He smiles, and Rafael smiles back.

Romantics can return a smile even if they're bleeding.

"Yes, s-... Mr. Martin. I understand." His fingers tighten around the nylon of the backpack someone at the bookstore had given him. Everything he has fits in there - some extra clothes, some extra underwear - he's never worn underwear before but he likes it, he likes the added barrier between his skin and the world that would lay its hands on him.

His plastic feather from the man at the museum is in there, he goes to sleep every night rubbing his fingers over the vanes, remembering the way the other man had looked, so insistent on helping him be saved.

He would hate to disappoint him by being bad at freedom when he was so, so good at being a pet.

"Great. Let me know if anyone gives you trouble. We've been working on it, but some of our people can be a little... well, reluctant. There's a lot of bad experiences, you know?"

Bad experiences with people like him. Romantics. Pets that get the good treatment, who know how to arch their back and bite their lip and make their gaze warm and liquid. Pets that sneak and snitch and curry favor and suck up and lay back and-

And have it easy.

It never felt easy. It felt like hell on earth.

Rafael licks at his lips and slowly nods. "I will."

"Perfect. Okay, I'll leave you to it. Remember, breakfast at 8, but seriously - come downstairs and grab some food or something to drink whenever you want. We do timed showers just to make sure nobody fights over them, your shower slot's at 9:30, so... couple hours from now."

He just nods at this. He can read time, he can do that much. The numbers spin a little, get blurry, but he can do it.

Mr. Martin gives him another slight smile and then steps away, walking down the hall. Rafael hears whispers, and feels his cheeks burn as he understands it's the other rescues, and they're probably talking about him.

He knows what they're saying.

The same things the trainees said in his Facility.

Please, it hurts to live like this, I don't like it, I never liked it. Please believe me.

They won't. The others never do.

He closes the door, then turns and looks at his little room, all to himself. He shudders, a horrible loneliness already clawing its way up his throat.

He wants someone to hold him down on the bed and keep him there, to whisper that he's good, to hold his face in their hands and tell him what to do and when. Hell on earth with other people is better than heaven alone.

Assuming this is anything but oblivion.

What if all he did by escaping was make himself no longer exist?

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @symphony-of-greys @orchidscript @doveotions aaahhh I can't remember who asked for Rafael

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (5)

Nightmare

No lyrics in this chapter, because the song in the title has no words. But it really embodies everything I wanted to say with the chapter.

Also, ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN CHOO CHOOOOOO

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“Do you have those drafts ready for the meeting?” Asked Marinette, peering into her co-worker’s office, a very peppy woman named Jill. 

“Of course! I’ve gotten them matted, just like you asked. 10, right?” 

“Yes! Thank God someone is doing their job right today.” 

“Oh, Marinette, where are your shoes?” 

Marinette looked down to her bare feet. “Oh, I wore pumps that are great for working at my desk and walking to the water cooler, but they got kicked off somewhere around 9 this morning.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

“Have you seen Tim? He’s fixing the sizing sheet and I can’t find him anywhere!” 

“Did you try his office?” 

Marinette’s jaw dropped. “Tim has an office?! Since when?” 

“Since always? Are you okay? You look like you could use a nap…or at least a cup of coffee.” 

Marinette groaned. “No naps! No more coffee! My heart is just a hum now anyway! I haven’t been able to sleep the last few days and last night I didn’t sleep at all. I got this weird phone call—“ she stopped herself before she said too much. “Anyway, yes, Tim does have an office. I forgot.” 

“And he’s always so good at emails, you never need to talk to him. I know. We had this same conversation last week.” 

Marinette groaned again as she covered her face in shame. “Why is Mr. Agreste doing this to me?” 

“Speaking of Mr. Agreste, have you gotten any answers from him today? I’ve sent three emails and he’s not responding at all. Apparently Tim’s having the same problem with Adrien.” 

“I haven’t heard a thing from the manor. Not Gabriel, not Adrien, not even Nathalie. We’re supposed to have a meeting at 2, but I haven’t heard if that’s still on.” 

“Doesn’t Adrien usually come into the office on meeting days?” 

“He did…I don’t know what's up with him. He was being super cagey with me yesterday when I went to talk to him.” She sighed, hunching her shoulders. “I’m worried.” She didn’t disclose the truth of the conversation, that Adrien had effectively ended their friendship. It was too painful, but too fresh to ignore. 

“I’ve been working here since Emilie was still around. Gabriel went through a huge personality shift when she disappeared. Maybe Adrien takes after his dad? Maybe something happened?” 

“Ugh, don’t talk like that, I’ll just worry more!” An alert beeped from her phone, letting her know she had an email. “Ah! An intern’s job is never done! See you later!” 

“Good luck, Marinette!” Jill called. After she left, she added, “you’re going to need it.” 

At two o’clock, the department heads and designers all came together in the conference room. Marinette set up her laptop to the screen and had the presentation open, as well as the Skype call to Gabriel. 

He had yet to join the session, but it was still a few minutes before the meeting officially began. 

“I see you’re wearing shoes now,” said Jill. 

“I don’t know if I could handle the ridicule from Mr. Agreste if he saw me bare foot in the conference room.” Marinette chuckled weakly. 

“As if Gabriel would ever reprimand you,” said someone else. “He adores you.” 

“That must be why he took a vacation and told no one,” she laughed again. Was her filter fading with all this sleep deprivation? Probably. 

Finally, the call started, but Nathalie took the helm instead. 

Before questions could be asked, she announced, “I’m afraid this meeting must be postponed.” No ‘hello’, no ‘thank you for your patience and hard work’. It was enough to make Marinette snap in all of her exhaustion and emotional turmoil. 

“Nathalie, with all due respect, everyone is here and ready to go. Why isn’t Gabriel ready?” She huffed. 

Nathalie glanced away from the camera, a tell that she was about to deliver a great blow. “Mr. Agreste is deceased.” 

The room went silent. Someone dropped a pen. 

Marinette fell into a chair, feeling like the ground was shaking under her. 

“Early this morning, both Gabriel and Adrien passed away. A joint visitation and funeral will be held at the manor on Friday evening and Saturday morning, respectively. Everyone is invited, but it’s not mandatory, of course.” 

Marinette couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat; it was so thick. 

“The fall line will not be released this season. Two weeks paid vacation will be passed on as we prepare the new head designer to take Gabriel’s place.” 

Someone asked, “Who is the new designer?” 

Most heads looked to Marinette, knowing the answer. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been determined to be the new head designer.” 

She sputtered out of her shock. “What? Me?! No! Surely not! I’m just an intern!” 

“Intern to the head designer,” someone clarified. “We all knew you were going to be hired as his assistant soon. It was obvious.” 

“But—but—“ she stammered. It was rather obvious, thinking about it. Gabriel was just waiting for her to secure that college degree to make it official. “I can’t! I just—“ Without any preamble, tears burst forth and rolled down her face. 

Adrien was gone. 

Her best friend. The love of her life. Without a goodbye, and on such horrible terms. 

Screw the responsibilities, the job title didn’t matter. She didn’t care at all.

Several arms wrapped around her, her coworkers, her friends, comforting as best as they could. 

“No one is expecting you to jump right in,” Nathalie explained. “You were quite close to both of them.” 

“What about you?” Marinette rasped out. 

“I had my moment earlier. I’m in business mode now. If anyone would like more details, please reach me privately.” 

And she left. Like a whirlwind, leaving destruction in her path. 

“Can you get home on your own?” Someone asked Marinette. 

She thought she confirmed affirmative, but someone led her from the room with an arm around the shoulder. Maybe it was Tim. She didn’t really know. She didn’t really care. 

When she arrived home, she dropped her purse on the floor. Where were her other bags? At the office? Oh well, didn’t matter now. 

Nothing mattered anymore.

“Girl, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Alya and Nino were home, they were here and alive, and they didn’t know. 

They didn’t know and she had to tell them. 

“He’s gone,” She whispered.

“Who?” Asked Alya, resting a comforting hand on her arm. 

“Adrien…he—he’s dead.” 

“…what?” Nino squeaked out. “H-how? Why?” 

“I don’t know…he and Gabriel—“ she stopped and flexed her hand. Her phone was still in her hand. It held answers. 

She called Nathalie on video. 

“Hello Marinette. I’m glad to see you made it home safe. I was worried.” 

“What happened?” She blurted. “Nino and Alya know that he died. What happened?” Because there had to be a reasonable explanation. 

Nathalie’s face morphed from serious business to pain and pity. “Are you sure you want to know?” 

God, with a preamble like that, it couldn’t be good. Not painless like Carbon monoxide poisoning in their sleep, and not instant like a car accident. 

“Please Nathalie, I have to know.” 

She breathed shakily and admitted, “it was a murder-suicide, as enacted by Adrien. He first stabbed Gabriel, and then himself.” 

“Augh!” Marinette sobbed out. It was an ugly sound that couldn’t be controlled or silenced. 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could lie…but I can’t. Adrien had been acting strange lately…I think Gabriel knew this was going to happen.” 

“No! You’re lying!” Marinette yelled. “Adrien loved his father! He would never—he’s not like that!” 

“Marinette, I saw them. Adrien was obviously deeply disturbed.” 

“SHUT UP!!” She ended the call and dropped the phone on the floor. 

Then she looked to her friends, who were both bawling like her. Nino moved first and pulled her into a tight hug. Alya came around the other side, crushing her in a Marinette-sandwich. 

“You’re right, he wouldn’t do that.” Alya offered. “But they’re both gone, so we can’t prove anything.” 

“If Nathalie didn’t tell the office, then the truth might never come out,” Said Nino, nodding in reassurance. “Only the four of us will have any idea.” 

After a long time, numbness started to set in. There was a degree of disbelief in her still, where she may have heard it, but she didn’t see it. 

That left room for doubt. 

Without a word, she took her phone from the floor and wandered back to her room. 

After the door closed, Tikki appeared. “Marinette…” 

But she wasn’t listening. She was staring at her phone screen, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. 

Then she started a call. 

It rang and rang and rang and rang…

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now. But leave me a message or shoot me a text, and I’ll get back to you. Hope you have a great day!” 

The phone beeped. 

“Adrien,” she sobbed. “Adrien I know—goddamnit this sucks. I’m too late. I love you so much, and I’m too late. I wish I told you sooner. Even last night when you called—I’m sorry I didn’t know you were struggling. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to help you. I loved you so much and I couldn’t save you and I’m so sorry…” 

“Marinette…” Tikki tried to tell her to stop. 

“This is the closest I could get to telling you. And you’ll never hear it and—“ 

The phone beeped again, signaling the end of the recording. 

She saved it, and set the phone down. 

“Marinette…” 

“What is it, Tikki? What’s so important?” 

“I have to tell you something…but it’s really really bad.” 

“Well, hit me with it. Today is literally the worst day of my life.” 

“Adrien…well, he was Chat Noir.” 

As if the day couldn’t get any worse. 

“What?” 

“Chat Noir. He was Adrien.” 

“But—but he can’t be. You must be confused.” 

“Marinette, he literally wore the earrings before.” 

“I KNOW!” She screamed. “But you have to tell me he's someone else! Because I can’t lose both of them! I can’t do it Tikki!” 

“I know it hurts. You two were literally soul mates. The Ladybug and Black Cat always are.” 

“You’re not helping!” She sobbed. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

Tikki allowed Marinette to sob for a while, letting her anguish spill out of her. Tikki just kept watch for the Akuma that never came. 

“You know what you have to do next, right?” Asked Tikki. 

“What?” 

She sighed. “You have to go to the visitation and take back the ring.” 

“I can’t do that!” Marinette cried, horrified. “I can’t! There’s no way!” 

“We’ll he can’t be buried with it. You have to, Marinette.” 

Marinette crawled into bed, still fully clothed and wept and wept and wept until her tears burned her cheeks and exhaustion took hold.

--

All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #6: The Burdens of Winning

Words: ca. 6,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: No CW: None

The bus rounded the corner and there they were, the Olympic rings, practically gleaming in the sunlight as if welcoming the busloads of athletes to the world stage. Elsa kept her earbuds in and didn’t move from her seat like so many of the others, whipping out their phones and snapping photos and selfies, crowding the far side of the bus. The trainers and coaches turned a blind eye. There was a pandemic and they should stay apart, but the joy was good for morale and in turn, good for winning. After a few minutes, the athletes settled back into their seats. The energy remained alive, buzzing. Elsa could hear the excited chatter through her music. She sighed heavily and pulled her hood up before leaning her head against the window.

They had been in Tokyo for who knows how many days now. Time outside the pool blended together into a blur. All Elsa knew was that the opening ceremony was tonight and she was being forced to attend. Somewhere in there was a series of interviews and promos as well. The burden of being the female face of the national swim team was heavy and exhausting. Each medal she won, each record she broke, the media demanded more. She hated every moment in front of a camera.

She adjusted her goggles and stepped up onto the block. The entire team was here, practicing. If she was nostalgic, she would have thought of the good old days, being in school, always practicing as a team, the water forever choppy with the various strokes and kicks. But she had no time for that and she actively chose to ignore how lonely her professional training really was. The accumulation of years of practice, countless laps, hours of training in the water, and even more outside of it.

To her right a coach was shouting at various swimmers, calling them by their names. She didn’t bother to meet them or get to know them. A few familiar faces and names, sure, but she didn’t know them really. A lot of the team wouldn’t even qualify into the finals with her, a friendship would just be a distraction and another disappointment in a long line of disappointments.

A whistle blew somewhere to her left, it wasn’t her coach so she remained poised on the starting block. A tall man with wide shoulders entered the water nearly perfectly. He was this year’s star swimmer. He didn’t necessarily win every world event with a gold medal, but he made the podium and the media was desperate for a new face after Phelps hung up his speedo.

Mr. Golden Boy, that’s what Elsa called him in her head. She knew only knew people by their swimming events and times and only if they competed against her. She didn’t know their hobbies, their relationships, their families. A lot of them hung out outside of practice. But she didn’t understand how they had the time. So she just referred to them by nicknames she made up in her head. It was easier, hands-off.

“Take your mark” Elsa’s coach shouted, and she gripped the edge of the block and tensed her muscles. A short burst of a whistle and Elsa was launching forward like a spring.

The water was cold and clear, a mild taste of chlorine crept past her tightly pressed lips but she kept her head tucked between her arms and kicked with both feet. Surfacing in one fluid motion, she broke into her stroke. It was a good dive but it could be better. She swam to the opposite end of the pool and hopped out with ease.

“I want to run the start again,” Elsa said to her coach.

“And I want you to practice your turns, so we’ll do one more dive. Then I don’t want to see you out of this damn pool until our time here is done.” His mouth was covered with a mask but his furrowed brow and bulging neck vein were all too visible.

Elsa took the disposable mask from the volunteer nearby and walked back to the opposite end of the large pool.

“…I reckon I’ll wear the mirrored ones, they’ll look way cooler.” somehow, through all the commotion and noises in the aquatic center, a single voice, with a thick Australian accent broke through.

Elsa looked and saw her rival, Anna Harding standing in the hallway behind the empty stands. She didn’t notice Elsa as she was talking with someone, gesturing wildly with her hands. She was a good distance away and Elsa couldn’t hear what she was saying. How that once sentence broke through, she’ll never know, but it annoyed her.

“Anderson! How hyped are you to be here?” Mr. Golden Boy shouted, he jogged up to walk next to her and waited for a beat for her to answer, never once dropping his wide all-too-white smile. “It’s the Olympics! Show, like, a smidge of emotion.”

“I’ve been here before, I’ll be here again,” Elsa responded, further annoyed now. The two of them had done several interviews together and now the man thought they were friends.

“I like that attitude but dude, live in the moment a bit alright?” He started to lean to nudge her arm but pulled back. Instead, he gave a quick nod and jogged away.

Elsa took her mask off and dropped it in the bin before climbing back on the block and starting the process all again.

No distractions.

~~~

“And it looks like… YES it’s Anderson with the Women’s 400m gold medal! Followed close behind by Australia’s Harding with the bronze going to…”

Elsa stopped listening to the announcers, their voices faded into a sea of various voices in just as many languages. She raised her arm and waved to the cameras. A smile never once crossing her face. A movement to her left caught her attention and she saw the Australian swimmer reaching across the lane rope to shake her hand. Elsa took it and heard the announcers erupt with approval.

“Good on ya mate, I’ll get you in the next one,” Anna said through short breaths.

“I’d like to see you try,” Elsa mumbled as she made her way to the designated exit area on the side. Once out of the pool she was directed to the media ally for various interviews without being given a moment to catch her breath.

A quick glance over and she saw Anna staying with the bronze place winner, talking to a camera.

“Solo or group?” someone was asking her, gesturing towards the camera.

“Solo.” 

~~~

The time between races was long, filled with eating, sleeping, or practicing. Which was normal. The painful part, the one Elsa hated was the time between suiting up and lining up to race. Because of the virus, everything was spaced apart, even the swimmers’ individual entrances took a long time.

Most of the women chatted amongst their teammates or spoke to international friends to pass the time. And a few others, like her, remained seated, hood pulled up and headphones on to block the noise and distraction.

“What’s in your ears?”

Elsa looked up and saw Anna staring at her, she had pulled a chair over and was sitting backward in it. Her chin resting on the chair’s back. Between her mask and swim cap, only her eyes were visible. They seemed to pierce right through Elsa and she didn’t like how that made her feel.

“Oy, blondie, did ya hear me?” Anna asked again tilting her head slightly.

Elsa let out a heavy sigh and took one earbud out. “Can I help you?”

Anna leaned back and held both hands up. “Whoa mate, I’m just tryin for some small talk. You can put down the eye daggers.”

“I’m trying to focus for the race.”

“Ah, I’ll leave you be then. Don’t want to be beating you when you’re distracted.” She stood up and spun her chair around before sitting back down, her back now to Elsa.

 “You and your stupid yellow cap aren’t going to beat me,” Elsa mumbled under her breath as she put her earbud back in.

~~~

“Australia takes the gold! A disappointing loss for Team USA’s Anderson”

Elsa huffed, stared at the scoreboard, refusing to believe the time she was seeing. Anna had beat her and set a new World Record. This was impossible, Anna had never beaten her before.

“Did say I’d get ya in the next one,” Anna said, beaming for the cameras and reaching her hand across to shake. Elsa took it begrudgingly.

Elsa exited the pool and auto-piloted to the media ally. She was stopped by the first news crews, stuffed into a tiny square, they all were wearing masks and face shields. Their eyes seemed to bore into Elsa as a microphone on a pole was shoved towards her face.

“How does it feel to break a world record and clinch the Gold Medal?” The reporter asked.

“It feels amazing! It was such a good race.” Anna said. Elsa somehow didn’t notice her presence before now. “I’ve been working on this for such a long time and to do it here on the Olympic stage is just incredible”

“And Elsa, how does it feel to just narrowly miss the gold and have your long-standing record shattered?”

Elsa shifted into her public face, swallowing down the astounding amount of cuss words that threatened to escape. “I’m thankful to be here to witness history. Harding is a great swimmer, I’m honored to be able to compete against her.”

“The two are set to face off more times over the next few days, I know the folks at home are excited to see the battle for gold.”

The next half an hour went on like this, short interviews with various media outlets from all over the world. Anna’s home country of course got a longer time slot. The entire time Anna walked with Elsa, seemingly refusing to do any interviews solo. It irritated Elsa as she was not able to dip into the locker room and had to do a painfully slow walk of shame through the cameras.

~~~

Elsa slammed into the wall, hard, a wave of water followed after her, splashing, turbulent, and violent. It matched how she felt as she glanced up at the scoreboard and saw her name in first and Anna’s in second. She nearly smiled. But it wasn’t worth smiling when she failed to beat the world record.

And there Anna was once again, reaching across the lane rope to shake her hand. And there too was Anna walking with her down the media ally. Ignoring Elsa’s request to go solo. And the media ate it up, two rivals trading golds and silvers back and forth. It was the perfect sports story.

The next two races ended with Elsa receiving a silver medal. She would be lying if she said she was mad at Anna for beating her both times. The other girl was nothing but kind and supportive. Always taking the time to shake the other swimmer’s hands or hug her teammates when they did well.

It seemed Anna, like Elsa, was her country’s star female swimmer. Just like Elsa, she too couldn’t swim a heat, not even a medal race, without the media stopping her for interviews. These interviews often involved Elsa joining, Anna’s presence next to her was very calming. Anna was a natural at handling the questions, laughing when she needed to, never talking bad about the officials or other swimmers. The more the two of them did interviews together, the more Elsa was able to better play off of Anna. She became more engaged, more relaxed.

The second the pair went their separate ways in the locker room, was the moment all the anger and resentment came bubbling back up in Elsa. She was mad at herself, she was starting to become distracted. She often found herself looking for Anna in the ready room before a race. And she hated how once she found her and Anna gave her a smile and maybe a little wave, she would have a strange feeling wash over her.

Elsa never had time for friends or love, if that’s what this feeling was. She ripped her cap off, pulling a few strands of hair with it, and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash off the chlorine and the complex feelings.

~~~

The aquatics center was darker now. It was later in the evening, the media and few spectators had all gone home. Only the lights on the pool and the emergency lights in the stands were on. It gave the place an almost eerie feeling. There were a few other swimmers here, each with their own lane. She was assigned to lane 1, she despised the wall but with the virus raging she had no grounds to argue. There was a small bin with her name and country flag on it. She managed to get two hours, probably due to the late hour. 

Elsa stepping up onto the block and dove in. She came out of the water as if sprinting but quickly slowed her pace. She needed to work her muscles, not strain them.

She fell into a practice rhythm, stroke, stroke, stroke… breathe, stroke. Her legs ever so slightly kicking, she wasn’t worried about her legs, she could turn them on and power forward when needed. It was her arms she was worried about, she made stroke adjustments, high elbow, cupped hands, trying to see what felt right.

As desperately as she tried to focus on the push and pull of the water, her mind wandered away. Maybe she should have tried to befriend some of her teammates. A flip turn. Anna seemed to be having so much fun. Stroke, stroke, breathe. But fun was distracting, and she needed to focus. Stroke, stroke, breathe. No distractions. Another flip turn. Why did her mind keep going to Anna? Stroke, stroke, breathe.

Elsa slowed her pace as she came back to the wall in the deep end of the pool. She had long since lost track of her laps. She left her body slow to a stop and reached up to hold onto the wall.

She exhaled and glanced up at the scoreboard where the clock was. Only 20 minutes had passed. It felt like 2 hours, she was defiantly distracted and it was affecting everything. Her strokes felt off, her mind was clouded. She pushed off the wall and dipped below the surface, letting her body drift down till her feet made contact with the bottom of the pool and her ears popped from the pressure. It was quiet down here. She could look over and see the bodies of other swimmers going back and forth in the other lanes. And all around the bottom of the pool were underwater wires and cameras. They sat dormant now, powered down until the next race.

Elsa kicked off the bottom, surfacing to splashes and kicks and soft voices that carried through the cavernous aquatic center.

“Oh hey, fancy seeing you here.”

Elsa looked up and saw Anna sitting cross-legged on the pool deck of the lane next to hers. She was in a loose-fitting swimsuit, like the type of one-piece suit someone might wear to the beach. Her caps were missing, instead, her long red hair hung freely around her shoulders, she was spinning her goggles around one finger.

“Can I help you?” Elsa responded, already annoyed that the person who was beginning to occupy so much brain space was now a few feet from her.

“Actually, I reckon I can help you,” Anna replied, the ghost of a smirk on her face.

“And how do you propose you can help me?”

“Ah,” Anna put her goggles on, “because I’ve beaten you in the last two races? And we’ve been neck and neck in the others.” In one fluid motion, she slipped into the pool.

Elsa felt like she was seeing red, and it wasn’t just the flowing red locks of the person in the lane next to her.

Anna surfaced laughing, which only further annoyed Elsa. To be so arrogant and to rub it in her face too was taking it too far. “Sorry, I’m just joshing ya. No hard feelings mate.”

There was a pause, a shaky exhale, and Anna added, more softly, “You know I really admire you.”

Now Elsa felt like someone punched her and she was stunned into silence. What was this girl’s deal? Was this some new form of emotional warfare?

“We’ve been swimming against each other for a long time. And maybe it’s the pressure of your third Olympics, maybe it’s all the bull shit from the virus but you’re not you lately.” Anna continued.

Who was Anna to know who Elsa was or wasn’t? Elsa let herself sink slightly so her mouth was just under the surface but she could still breathe through her nose as she tread water. A smarter person would have probably just ignored Anna and continued swimming. But Elsa found herself anchored in place.

“I’m sure you’re questioning why I, of all people, am floating here telling you this. But to me, our rivalry only exists for those seconds when we’re in the water. Outside of that, I think you’re a great swimmer and a good role model. I would like to be your f-friend.”  Anna turned away from her for a second, seemingly distracted by whatever the swimmer in lane five was doing.

“Friend?” Elsa repeated slowly as if trying the word out for the first time.

Anna turned back to her, her head tilted slightly to the side. “Yes, a friend, a mate, a buddy, a pal. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem to have many.”

“I uh…” Elsa started “I don’t have time for friends, I have to focus on swimming.”

Anna lifted a hand out of the water and pointed at Elsa, “Well, as your new friend, that’s the first thing we’re going to work on.”

Elsa really should have restarted her laps and ignored Anna. And she really, really should ignore this excitement that was bubbling in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a friend, and not someone who she was doing a press tour with or someone who wanted something from her. Then again, maybe Anna wanted something from her too.

But if Elsa was truly, deeply honest with herself, whatever Anna wanted in that moment, she wanted to give it to her. Anna had a pull, a gravity about her and Elsa was trapped in her orbit.

“Alright let me lay it out for you. You do have time for friends because they’re good, help lift you up and motivate you. You, my friend, have completely forgotten why you started swimming in the first place.”

“What? No, I haven’t, I’m still winning.”

“Yea nah, see the fact that you responded that way shows I’m right.”

Elsa frowned but remained where she was.

“So tell me, Elsa, back when you were a kiddo, why did you start swimming?” Anna lifted her goggles up and two ocean blue eyes seemed to penetrate right through Elsa’s shell.

Behind her own mirrored goggles, Elsa closed her own eyes. Shutting the world and Anna out for a moment. Why did she start swimming? It felt like eight lifetimes ago. She really had to dig deep, fuzzy memories of kids playing in the pool. Games of Marco Polo and mermaids. Joining the summer team, playing cards between races. Laughing. She had fun. Before she was scooped up into the USA Swimming training program.

She remembered now, how quickly everything changed. No more summer league, training every day for hours. Before she used to smell of bubble-gum then she shifted and everything was chlorine. Her friends moved on without her.  The clashing of worlds when they could no longer relate to each other. The girls got into makeup and she got into tight-fitting racing suits. The boys started playing Halo and she sat to be measured for custom goggles. After a while, all she had was the pool and her coaches.

Elsa was 15 when made her Olympic debut and now, here in Tokyo, it was her third. In those nearly 10 years she had completely given herself to her sports. It wasn’t that friends were a distraction, it was that she didn’t want to get hurt again.

“Elsa?” Anna asked, breaking the other woman from her thoughts.

Elsa opened her eyes and looked at the Australian. In her loose-fitting casual suit and free-flowing hair, Anna appeared to never forget the fun of swimming. And look where that got her? She was neck and neck, or even besting Elsa. Anna knew everyone on her team and several others from around the world. She greeted everyone like lifelong friends and no one could deny her contagious charisma on camera.

“I started swimming because it was fun and I could hang out with my friends.” Elsa finally admitted out loud.

“I thought you didn’t have time for friends?” Anna replied, that ghost of a smirk reappearing.

“I did back then.”

“And what happened?”

“I went one way and they went another. Our paths never crossed again”

Anna floated forward and hung both arms over the lane rope. “That was back when you were a kid, people grow up and grow apart. That’s as normal as a flower blooming.”

Elsa didn’t respond, she didn’t see the comparison to flowers, not every bud bloomed.

“Just because your old mates ditched you doesn’t mean you can’t make new ones. Especially here with like-minded folks. Now I reckon you haven’t had any fun in a while yeah?”

What are you trying to say"

“I watched you practice for a bit before you noticed me, you’re all in your head and that’s doing no one any good.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“So many questions, you Americans ask so many questions, just live a little.” Anna laughed, “Your name is on the box mate.” She gestured to the box behind the starting block that currently held Elsa’s dry clothes.

“So now you’re stalking me, how did you even get a lane next to me anyway?”

“Again with the questions, I didn’t purposely try, I suppose it’s the universe just pulling us together.” She winked and pulled her goggles back down. Elsa dipped back down into the water just below her eyes to hide the heat rising in her cheeks. “Now a question for you mate, when’s the last time you pretended to be a mermaid?”

The rest of the allotted practice time consisted of the two of them swimming back and forth in their lanes, dolphin kicking, spinning, and splashing each other. Elsa wasn’t sure when or how exactly it happened. One minute they were just swimming and the next they were doing spins and twists and diving down. Anna made some great faces underwater and for once in a long time, Elsa was having fun. She even smiled which only seemed to fuel Anna into further antics.

Elsa left the locker room later feeling lighter and more focused than she had been in years.

~~~

Despite the Olympic events being closed to the public, there was still a sizable audience piled into the aquatics center. Swimmers and other athletes were clustered in the stands by their country. There wasn’t to be any audience at all, but the officials decided some bodies in the stands brought more life to events.

Elsa spotted the US cluster, they were hard to miss in their snow-white outfits and obnoxious red, white, and blue bucket hats. Elsa had yet to put hers on. It was a very ugly hat, but if the team was wearing them maybe she could suck it up for a little bit. Elsa took a deep breath and started up the stairs of the bleachers. She was spotted almost instantly.

“Anderson! Sit with us!” One of her teammates called. Elsa nodded, thankful her mask prevented her from having to fake a smile.

“I’m surprised you’re here but man it’s good to have you.” The girl, whose name was Jan? Jenny maybe? Swam Butterfly, she was the same age as Elsa but this was her first Olympics.

At least Elsa was pretty sure of that. After her practice with Anna last night she had gone back to her room, deciding that she would make an effort to be more present. She stayed up later than she should have, reading through the USA Swimming’s Tokyo roster, putting faces to names and names to events.

Elsa sat down between Jannet, she was sure now, and a backstroker named Sam. They both beamed at her, Sam pulled out his phone to get a photo of the three of them.

“No, no photos,” Elsa started to say but caught herself, “…without our hats!” She said, forcing as much positivity through her words as possible. This earned her a few cheers from the people around them and she mashed the ugly hat on her head as the photo grew to more people.

“I can’t believe we got a photo with Anderson.”

“Dude I know, she’s always training.”

“Bruh this is unreal, tag me in that shit.”

“My mom’s gonna be so excited!”

Various voices from all around her, excited and happy tones. She had been so worried they would be cold towards her, or there would be whispers about why she was here. Instead, her teammates seemed almost welcoming, be it a bit starstruck.

“Are you excited for your race this afternoon?” Elsa asked Sam who seems to nearly implode.

“You know when I swim? Dude this is awesome!”

The hype of Elsa being there finally calmed down and she was able to actually talk with people.. Elsa had the day off from racing today. It was interesting, being a casual spectator instead of studying the strokes. She hadn’t really watched a men’s race in so long, she had forgotten how animated they got when they won. Slapping the water, sitting on the lane ropes, their arms lifted high into the sky as cameras flashed.

During a lull Elsa stood to locate some kind of drink, talking so much was exhausting. She walked into the wide hallway behind the bleachers and saw long red hair clashing with a bright yellow jacket that read AUSTRALIA down the arm in a green font that perfectly matched the pants.

Anna turned as Elsa neared as if pulled by some invisible force. She smiled behind her mask before speaking, Elsa could tell from the creases in the corner of her eyes “You’re here? And not cranking away at the gym? I must be dreaming.”

“I’m here, I was even sitting with my team.”

“They let you sit with them while wearing that hat?” she teased.

“We all have this thing,” Elsa replied, tapping the hat with one finger.

“And you lot say our outfits hurt the eyes.” She reached forward as if to touch Elsa but pulled her hand back after a sideways glance at a nearby volunteer. “I’m really glad you came, I hope you have a good time. I’m coming for you soon though, be ready.”

“I’m always ready,” Elsa responded, the absence of a touch that never was hung heavy in the air and she wished Anna had broken protocol.

“Oh, I know.” Anna winked again and walked off in the opposite direction. Elsa fought the urge to follow her. Team Australia was on the opposite side of the pool and Elsa had no valid reason to go that way and was thus barred from going any further.

Elsa bruised herself by looking at a random floor tile, she didn’t want to get caught staring at someone. So occupied she was that she didn’t see Anna turn back to look at her before rounding the corner.

~~~

Today was the day. The last race of her Olympics, till the next one that is.

Elsa dove into the pool, this was her warm-up period. She was there with a handful of other swimmers, swimming lengths across the wide part of the diving pool while other races took place in the main pool.

Stroke, breathe. Stroke, breathe.

She went at a steady pace and focused on her reach, turning her shoulders and pulling the water back. Today felt better, her strokes felt more fluid, and her mind wasn’t clouded. She let it freely drift from one subject to the next, without dwelling on the angle of her elbows, or how much her hand was scooped. Anna kept drifting to the forefront of her mind and Elsa allowed herself to swim through those thoughts. She decided when she won today, she would do all her interviews with Anna. She was done with doing the media ally solo.

In the blink of an eye, she was sitting in a chair in the ready room. Both caps on, goggles on, only one earbud in. She nodded and waved to anyone she made eye contact with but she didn’t talk to them. She wasn’t going to change completely overnight and she still had to focus.

There was a sudden shift in the energy of the room and Elsa turned her head to see that yellow cap enter the room. Anna sat down in front of Elsa again and turned in her chair.

“So what’s in your ears today eh?”

“Just some bass-heavy EMD music,” Elsa replied.

“Oh didn’t take you for a clubber.”

“I’m not, fast beats just help me focus.”

“Ah, you’re gonna need that today my friend,” Anna once again winked and Elsa was starting to think maybe she wasn’t imagining things. That or Anna had a facial tick and Elsa was completely caught up in a fantasy.

~~

They walked out to the swim floor one by one as they were announced by lane number for the women’s 800-meter freestyle race. Anna was in lane 5 today, Elsa in lane 4. All that stood between her and the podium was 16 lengths of the pool. Elsa stepped up onto the started block and waited.

“Take your mark.” came the far too robotic sounding announcer, followed by a sharp single beep.

Her muscles reacted on instinct and she dove into the water. Kicking, surfacing, and falling into her rhythm. She breathed every few strokes, pacing herself for the final sprint that was still many lengths off. The woman from Japan matched her pace over in lane 3 and Elsa regretted not knowing her name.

A flip turn and now with every breath she could see Anna, her yellow cap a bright beacon above the blue lane rope. She was also matching pace with Elsa, their strokes synchronized, Anna breathed on the left, and every few strokes they looked at each other. It was electrifying.

Another flip turn and Elsa could only see the edge of the Japanese women’s fingers, she was already falling back. But there were many lengths to go for Elsa to maintain the lead.

As she came into the wall an official dipped a number into the pool, letting her know how many lengths she had left. Another flip turn and there was Anna again.

Finally, after many lengths, Elsa and Anna headed towards the wall. Bells rang indicating this was the final lap. They would be coming out of this flip turn in a sprint.

Elsa resurfaced after the turn and began kicking. Harder. She could no longer see the Japanese woman but she had no time to focus on that fact. All that mattered was to get to the wall, turn one last time and slam into home. She could already taste the gold. She could hear the National anthem in all its obnoxiousness.

She turned and exploded off the wall, pulling from every reserve. She wasn’t breathing as often, trying to stay as streamlined as possible. Anna, she could see, was doing the same. They were no longer in sync, swapping the lead back and forth.

They passed the halfway point and Elsa pulled whatever energy she had left. Desperately pulling and kicking at the water. She saw the yellow cap fade in and out of her line of sight. The lane rope shifted to a solid color, the wall was near. This was do or die.

Elsa slammed into the wall at full speed and a wave of water splashed up onto the deck in response. She looked not to the scoreboard but over to Anna. Who, despite being out of breath, smiled at her.

The other swimmers came into the wall around them and Elsa glanced now at the board. She couldn’t believe what she saw

(AUS) Harding A.- 8:12:57

(USA) Anderson E. - 8:13:83

She had lost by the narrowest of margins. Instead of being mad, she turned back to Anna who was already climbing over the lane rope. She hugged Elsa with one arm and pumped the air with the other. Beaming for the cameras.

“Told you I’d get ya,” Anna said in a voice loud enough only for Elsa to hear.

And Elsa didn’t reply. She just smiled, genuinely for the first time in a long time. She gave Anna a hug in return and regrettably let her go to turn to the Japanese women. Giving her a handshake and congratulating her on her race.

When Elsa turned back, Anna was surrounded by other swimmers and the officials were trying to subtly clear the pool without ruining the photos for the press.

Elsa couldn’t remember another time she felt so happy to come in second.

~~~

The Australian anthem  has just finished playing. Anna reached out a hand to first Elsa and then the bronze medalist. Elsa pretended not to notice how Anna’s hand lingered just a few seconds too long in hers.

They posed for pictures together for what seemed like hours before the volunteers were ushering them towards the media. Anna placed a hand on Elsa’s back, ever so slightly, like a question that Elsa could choose to lean into or walk away. She picked the former and Anna’s step seemed to spring a bit as they walked towards their first interview. The woman with bronze had vanished and at the moment Elsa didn’t care, but for an entirely different reason than she usually did.

Finally, the pair entered the locker room, it was surprisingly empty, their medal ceremony was the last of the day, and there weren’t any more races, practice times would start within the hour but for right now, it was quiet.

Anna was first to speak, she removed her mask and smiled at Elsa and Elsa felt her face heat up. She copied Anna, removing the massive mask that obscured most of her face and returned the smile.

“Here, you deserve these,” Anna said, handing Elsa her gold medal bouquet.

“Are those for me?” Elsa said, of course, she had her own bouquet but the gesture and genuine tenderness of Anna made everything more special.

“No they’re for the empty chair behind you, of course, they’re for you.” She paused then added, “Sorry, they’re not orchids or crocuses or roses.”

“I’ve only heard of roses. I know nothing about flowers.”

“Oh well, in that case, enjoy these sunflowers, they bring out the blue in your eyes.”

“Anna?” Elsa asked, nearly whispering the name, she wasn’t brave enough to look into the other woman’s eyes so she stared down at the flowers, they were yellow like all of Anna’s team gear. Elsa decided she liked yellow, and she liked yellow a lot.

“Will you, join me in the dining hall? I want to take you to dinner.”

“Wow in the IOC-provided cafeteria where everything is free? You shouldn’t have.” Anna teased but her tone lacked any malice. She stepped closer to Elsa, closing the gap but still giving her space.

Elsa smirked and found her confidence, “Oh hush, you know that’s our only option.”

“I know, I’m just teasing you.”

A door opened at the other end of the locker room. “Ms. Harding, you’re wanted for an interview please.”

Anna sighed and shook her head, “the burdens of winning I suppose.” She seemed to hesitate for a moment and then leaned in and kissed Elsa on the cheek. She stepped back to allow a shocked Elsa to catch her breath.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Anna said and winked before walking away and through the locker room door to flashing cameras.

Elsa lifted a hand to her face where Anna touched her, closed her eyes, and smiled.

[greylunar]

I have a house lore question. Would you agree that Gryffindors and Ravenclaws tend to be more ideologically motivated and that Slytherins and Hufflepuffs tend to be more... personally motivated? Not sure I am phrasing this right but basically: Gryffindor/Ravenclaw: This is my cause, I believe in it. Slytherin/Hufflepuff: This is my person, I believe on them. Just as a general rule, not true in every case. (1/2)

Also, Gryffindors and Slytherins are more devoted to their cause/person whereas Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are more likely to be able to be able to reevaluate their standing with the person or cause if they feel they are no longer totally aligned with it/them. Again, just as a rule of thumb. (2/2)

I wrote an insanely long answer to this so more under the break, warning there’s a LOT of like, psychoanalysis down here and a lot of its very personal and about core aspects so like please proceed with caution and PLEASE ask me to tag if I forget something

Super weird note to start this off with but did you have an icon of a dog like two days ago because if that was you it looked like my dog and made me really happy (I love the aesthetic of this one too, A+ design)

Anyways! I do have A Lot of thoughts on this topic in particular, and I’m glad you asked because I know that my interpretation of the houses verges more into “Casper has a specific idea of the sort of personality spectrums he would align into these broad JK-based categories” than “canon” haha c: My “rule of thumb” for causes/ideologies is this:

Hufflepuff: “This is my belief.” This is what is good, what is right, what I know I should fight for and stand up for when the time comes. I will stand by this belief, because a part of me wholly excepts it as fact and uncompromising. I may, however, not always be able to stand up for this belief, as there are situations where I have to evaluate what will be the safest for me and the people I love. But you will have a Hard Time changing a hufflepuff’s mind on something they believe unless you can prove to them that its hurting people and somehow in the wrong. In that case, a new belief is formed to account for this information. Now, here’s where people (in I guess my version of house lore) tend to misjudge hufflepuffs. If one of their People repeatedly acts against their fundamental beliefs, they will either A) fail to remain one of that hufflepuff’s People and get dropped from that sort of list or B) just,,, badger them with facts/reasoning/their opinion until either the hufflepuff changes their mind or they change the Hufflepuff. (Side note, but on how Puffs handle ending relationships of any kind with folks: Hufflepuffs tend to,,, ‘ghost’ toxic people because of their uncompromisable nature on these very core beliefs. A hufflepuff will often give someone a thousand and one second chances until they realize that person either refuses to or is completely unable to accommodate one of their core definitions of good/justice/kindness/personhood and then usually hufflepuffs just kinda bounce. They often struggle with conflict in an overarching sense and, to put it in a Puff’s terms for avoiding a person they couldn’t handle being around anymore “Damn, wish I could just like, disappear into the woods in Oregon somewhere and get a dog and not have to think about this and my friend Tim could make a true crime podcast about having known me.” This is normally a MOMENTOUSLY hard decision for a Puff (i mean yall get it its the house of loyalty) but its very key that Hufflepuffs don’t align themselves with people, they align themselves with beliefs or personal truths. When push comes to shove, the loyalty a Puff has is often to the concept of goodness and kindness and the Concept of People rather than clinging to a specific individual if they directly oppose those beliefs)

Slytherins: “This is my person/these are my people.” Slytherins are a house of change, and their belief systems are mostly fluid (often based on social rules, for example, “I know people don’t like it or get hurt when these types of things are said, so I will now no longer say things like this from now on” OR alternatively “I am Very Aware that acting like this makes people vaguely unnerved, and I Am Choosing To Act Like This Continuously because I am using it to separate myself from others/people deserve it/god wouldn’t that be hilarious”). Slytherins don’t have a lot of ‘fundamental beliefs’ in a way that at least they would refer to as fundamental beliefs, our lovely snake friends often struggle with knowing themselves and defining themselves rigidly enough to label them like that. In a,,, slightly depressing note some common ones are “I have to earn my worth” and “other people deserve more than me.” Hey Slytherins, I don’t remember where I heard this, but worth is a capitalist concept fed to you by corporations and you are inherently human and therefore loved and important and deserve the world. That all said, what Slytherins do not waiver from their people. Slytherin friends will text you three years after you last talked because you posted something vaguely sad on Instagram and they wanna make sure you’re good. Slytherin partners and friends will love you with all of them, the whole of their being. If someone is mean to me, my Slytherin friends will end them, and I have to be like “bro I’m not even mad, you’re being mad for me.” Slytherins don’t ghost their People, they will drag your ass through the mud until you are healthy or By God They Will Fist Fight Your Mental Illness Themselves. In this way, Slytherins are a lot like Hufflepuffs. The problem lies in when Slytherins find they don’t have any more belief or energy left in their stores to drag themselves up too. Perhaps now is the time to realize you should be one of the People you will fight for too.

Gryffindors: “This is my cause/this is a fact” I’m not going to touch too much on the “here is my ten-step plan to save the world, step one is I Do It” Gryffindors, because I think we’re all familiar with that concept of them. Again, Gryffindors will join the Peace Corps, hufflepuffs will give the person who needs cash twenty dollars if they see them, its a scope thing. What I want to dive into with Gryffindors is the Stubborn Bastard Energy that we know and love them for (I do legitimately mean that as a compliment). Gryffindors RARELY and I’m talking Borderline Never bend or leave behind a fundamental belief once they’ve established it. Gryffs often assume that these beliefs are inherent, they would not be themselves if they were not Certain about this, and therefore that certainty is essential to who they are. Therefore Gryffs deal in personal truths, or things they have decided are facts, pillars that do not change. You will want to punch your Gryffindor best friend sometimes because they put something in their head when they were six because of what someone on the playground said and now they live by that and sometimes physically struggle with processing contradictory information. This can be great, if a Gryff internalizes something like “I should do no harm” or “I will Fight A Bully” but has more frustrating consequences when its something like “If someone does something bad they are irredeemable, and I should never again respect them.” For Gryffs, sometimes the best thing to ask yourself is “wait, Why do I think that, and are there any cases that are exceptions to these rules.” But fundamentally, Gryffs often are the ones to save the world because they already believe it is a fact that they will, and that they should.

Ravenclaws: “This is complicated/This should be seen from all sides” and THEN “I’m about to end this mans whole career over this” Ravenclaws are such a fun house for this question. Ravenclaws often have a sort of information gathering stage before they even consider the idea of having an opinion in their head. Ravenclaws want to make sure they know everything they can about a cause/an issue/a person before they make that Final Call of verbalizing or standing by something, because a very serious fundamental fear for Ravenclaws is being embarrassed. I don’t mean to minimize that or invalidate it in anyway, a lot of Ravenclaws would rather be dropped in a pit of [insert distasteful creature here} than have the shame in their minds of being caught on the wrong side of an argument, without all the facts, or unprepared for a thorough discussion. Ravenclaws in this information gathering stage will often say things like “I’m not sure to be honest, I haven’t looked into it that much” or even “I don’t really like to have opinions on matters like that because I don’t think I could ever know enough to represent what I should correctly.” THAT SAID. That’s phase one. But y’all if a Ravenclaw Decides, even without acknowledging they have, a Raven Decides. From anything from “this 18th century poet was a lesbian and you simply will not convince me I’m wrong, here is a list of reasons why I’m right” to “So Determinism exists, and I fundamentally believe that, I am fascinated on what you think about Free Will though,” Ravenclaws are the probably the most complex on this subject inherently because of how much they want to make sure they know the truth. Ravenclaws will re-evaluate their beliefs, but if the information you’re bringing to the table isn’t valid enough to hold up against their previous evidence, there’s not a whole lot you’ll be able to do about it. Ravens will struggle if asked to take a stance before this phase though, so friends, please remember that no one is ever going to remember if you raised your hand and said something a little less intelligent in high school English than you would have liked other than you. It is more than okay for you to forget that too.

[elicts]

          𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

full name: katherine ‘kaia’ calthorpe ii 

major: international relations

occupation: humanitarian affairs officer, united nations 

lineage: aquamarine

face claim: maika monroe

about kaia . 

( death tw ) a darling girl of eight years and six months. dressed in a sleek black dress with pink ribbons tied haphazardly in her hair by someone whose hand looked inexperienced in doing so. that’s how she’s remembered on easily what is the worst day of her life. gripping tightly to her father’s hand as if easing her grip would make him disappear, too. maybe it’s the clamminess of her palm, but she could swear she felt him hold on a little tighter. lady katherine calthorpe the first, her mother, had been goodness incarnate. bigger than life itself, with stories of how kaia could not say her own name as a toddler and gave herself a new one instead. how, when katherine was younger, she had managed to woo kaia’s cellist father into going on a date with her in twelve presents - one for each of the days of christmas. stubborn, bold, and true to herself, her mother still refused to wed him. so, standing in the garden of their stately home, hand clasped tightly with her father’s, kaia came to inherit everything. 

there’s bad in the world. time teaches her that even the sweetest of condolences can quickly fade into bitter arguments. one doesn’t have to raise their voice to do so, either. maliciousness can come in the form of a smile that never quite meets the eyes, delivered with a voice that never wavers. the 5000 acre estate that she’s called home, with its lush gardens and the apple orchard where she picked fruit with her mother on lazy summer afternoons, embroiled in a battle between great-aunts and uncles that she’d only met at the funeral. ‘did you know i was responsible for suggesting the building of the annex?’, says great-aunt once removed, allegra, as kaia watches blank-faced. ‘we were always good to katherine, araminta and i gave her board while she was at strathmore’, says great-uncle reginald upon his return from his sociological research of the lesser antilles (rumour is that he’s gone bankrupt in a poker game gone wrong). and the gifts! the gifts arrive in throes, sitting in the lobby in plush wrapping that feels a shame to pry apart with her pudgy fingertips. (even when her father requests her not to open them). all manner of things; a teddybear, a necklace, a pair of shoes that she can’t pronounce the designer of. all to take advantage of an eight year old girl’s naivety and her father’s inability to understand what was going on. yes, there’s bad in the world. but calthorpe girls are nothing but creative in finding solutions to their problems. 

as she grows older, she learns to make the most of the good when she can find it. sometimes it requires patience, like a treasure hunt into the human psyche, drawn out from someone over time with a guiding hand that she’s all to willing to offer. sometimes it requires creating it herself, leaving her classmates notes under their pillows to remind them of all their positive traits when she’s away at boarding school as a teenager. voice like honey when she convinces the girls to buy in tea and crumpets for the groundskeeper on days off instead of going shopping in the local village because she’s noticed how lonely he looks. kaia knows just what it’s like to feel broken, so she finds herself working just as hard to ensure nobody else feels the same. 

strathmore becomes a dream more so than a goal. a want to understand her mother better, to see the place where her mother would fall in love twice a day with her classmates, to see the books in the east library that she spent hours talking about in person. and when she fulfills her dream and it doesn’t quite match up... as she arrives in the pouring rain from a taxi without an umbrella and her suitcase gets saturated through, that seems alright. when she moves into her dorm and her roommate refuses to talk to her apart from calling her ‘that posh bird’ in passing, kaia gets a kick out of that, too. nothing but a little bump in the strathmore road. after all, a few bad days did not mean a bad life. her mother knew that best. 

eliot and kaia . 

she’d always suggested that she would only have to look at her successor once to know they were the right fit. she just didn’t expect him to be visiting her house when they first met. her father had hired an artist to paint them a family portrait, raving about the work he’d seen at some art show when he’d picked her up for summer break. in typical kaia fashion, she’d smiled and went along with it. 

she’ll often say that warm honey-coloured eyes met warm blue and sure enough, she knew. that he was her baby aqua. eliot’s a little quieter than her. but that’s okay, she’s not one to judge. she’s an only child, she knows quietness better than anyone. it takes time to draw him out of his shell, too. so much so that she feels a little like she’s playing a game of cat and mouse when she tries to get him to talk to her after sitting for him. a little too like when she would wait up for santa claus as she leaves an offering of marshmallow cakes in the parlour to lay in wait before he takes one. but when he does, she’s elated. biting back her inner excitement as they have a mild conversation about her horses. 

it doesn’t take long after his acceptance to join the society for them to become thick as thieves. as if she’d secretly been looking for a partner in mild-mannered do-gooding all her life and just so happened to stumble upon the perfect victim in him. she dared him to venture outside of his comfort zone by taking him on a surprise weekend getaway to the cotswalds because life’s best moment’s happen when we’re not expecting them to, eliot. there’s beauty in the improbable. he dared her to reflect more on her experiences, to see more of the good even when she thought it was impossible. they balance each other out somewhere along the line. and sometimes, she’ll still call with an excuse of needing a reminder of a certain artist whose name she already knows, just so they can talk. 

kaia and her circlet . 

she trades the pink ribbons in her hair to light blue during her time in the opals. her circlet are like her new and improved extended family. kaia was always the insistence to take her fellow opals out dancing to cheer them up, the offering of a light to the end of a cigarette when their nerves were too rattled to light their own, and a gentle hand to reach out and clasp at a wrist when she could sense they were feeling a little too heated. if nothing more than just to remind you that she’s there for you. no matter what, no strings attached. growing up around terrible people has instilled in her a need to calm others down. exemplified best by the gentle lull of a hymn spilling from her mouth at the manor dining table when an argument would break out, be it about serious societal matters or a general political debate. all because quiet voices should be used indoors, darling. if you must talk like children, i will sing you a lullaby. no scathing remark to be found on her lips before she would laugh once again, because although she has a terrible biological family, there is something to be said about the one she inherits at university. a warm fuzzy feeling associated when she hears any of their names, even now. she’s exactly 632 miles away from surrey now in geneva, stationed at the united nations in a want to spread good, and she still knows her heart would leap in her chest if one of them were to call her. that all it would take is the mention that one of them needs her help and she would be ready to make plans in an instant to help. it’s love for them. she knows it’s love. 

[aion-rsa]

15 Best Final Fantasy Characters

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While the list of things that Final Fantasy has gifted the gaming world is much longer than the one we’re bringing you today, one of the most consistently incredible aspects of this legendary RPG franchise is the quality of its casts of characters.

Even if you’ve only played one or two Final Fantasy games in your lifetime (or perhaps even just absorbed elements of the series through its prominent place in gaming culture) you likely know and have strong feelings about at least one Final Fantasy character. No matter how fantastical these games get, their heart will always be found in the heroes, villains, and even NPCs that drive some of the greatest adventures in RPG history.

Which Final Fantasy character is the best of them all, though? That’s a question fans will never find a universally approved answer to, but I’m willing to be most personal shortlists include at least a few of these incredible characters that have become icons of this franchise, the genre, and gaming.

15. Bartz Klauser (Final Fantasy 5)

Many Final Fantasy protagonists are tortured souls burdened by destiny and circumstances. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that type of character (we’re actually going to honor a few of those tortured souls later in this list), but too much of that kind of personality can really wear you down.

That’s what makes Bartz Klauser such a breath of fresh air. As a young man just trying to honor his father’s dying wish to go out and explore the world, Bartz didn’t ask to get caught up in an epic battle or grand adventure. Yet, he handles the incredible events that befall him with positivity, humor, and constant support for his friends and allies. 

14. Squall Leonhart (Final Fantasy 8)

There was a time when it felt like Squall’s place somewhere at the bottom of any list of Final Fantasy protagonists was all but reserved. There are still more than a few Final Fantasy fans who passionately hate him, and it’s easy to understand why. He’s angsty, he’s sometimes derivative of other characters, and he’s even sometimes cruel to people who should be his closest allies.

Yet, there’s just something about Squall. His looks and gunblade certainly make him memorable from a design perspective, but there’s also something to be said for how we get to watch Squall grow throughout Final Fantasy 8 in a way that few franchise protagonists get to grow across the course of their own adventures. Squall is the surprisingly grounded heart of a Final Fantasy game that reaches all-time high levels of weirdness.

13. Zidane Tribal (Final Fantasy 9)

I’ll always have a soft spot for Final Fantasy 7 and 8’s more somber protagonists, but like many fans at the time, I was more than ready to embrace Final Fantasy 9’s return to medieval fantasy as well as its returns to slightly more upbeat lead characters. 

Zidane is a fantastic example of a more lighthearted Final Fantasy protagonist, but he is no mere throwback to a simpler time. There’s plenty of darkness in Zidane’s surprisingly deep backstory, which makes his attempts to become a better person and a better leader (as well as his insistence on enjoying life whenever possible) that much more interesting. 

12. Cidolfus Orlandeau (Final Fantasy Tactics)

Some version of Cid pretty much had to be on this list, but which Cid is the best of them all? Well, there’s certainly an argument to be made for Final Fantasy 7’s Cid, Final Fantasy 14’s Cid, and Final Fantasy 9’s Cid, but my vote for the best Cid goes to a somewhat outside the box version of this recurring character. 

It’s interesting enough that Final Fantasy Tactics’ Cidolfus Orlandeau is a warrior when so many other versions of Cid are engineers, mentors, or even political leaders, but what makes Orlandeau really stand apart is how powerful he is. This is one of the most overpowered characters in Final Fantasy Tactics in terms of both lore and in-game abilities. Actually, his incredible power kind of feels like a love letter to the entire Cid “lineage.”

11. Zack Fair (Final Fantasy 7)

It may seem like Zack Fair’s popularity only started to grow in more recent years, but the truth of the matter is that many Final Fantasy 7 fans have always loved Zack and just weren’t able to properly share their love for this previously minor character prior to the modern internet age. 

Before Zack Fair finally got to star in his own game (the largely underrated PSP title, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII), he won the hearts of millions with his optimism, friendly nature, and unwavering belief that he can fight to make the world a better place. He is, in many ways, what we think of when we think of heroes. 

10. Celes Chere (Final Fantasy 6)

Final Fantasy 6 certainly isn’t lacking in memorable protagonists (or villains), which really makes it that much more impressive that Celes Chere has arguably become the game’s unofficial lead all these years later. 

Celes initially comes across as a standoffish enemy general who is only helping the player’s party because they’re temporarily united against a common threat. By the time we reach this game’s legendary opera scene, though, we understand who Celes really is and even start to sympathize with what we previously believed were her greatest flaws. Celes was one of the first Final Fantasy characters that properly showcased the storytelling potential of this franchise and gaming.

9. Lightning (Final Fantasy 13)

Final Fantasy 13 honestly deserves a lot of the criticism it regularly receives, but it’s always been a shame that the game’s divisive (often negative) legacy means Lightning is sometimes denied the status she so rightfully deserves. 

Lightning’s backstory isn’t the most complicated in Final Fantasy history, but that actually proves to be one of the character’s strongest qualities. Lightning is mostly interested in protecting her sister, which turns out to be all the motivation as she needs to embark upon an epic journey as well as all the motivation we need to sympathize with the incredible things she does along the way. Lightning is fearless, strong, determined, and the kind of person many of us like to think we would become in her situation. 

8. Balthier (Final Fantasy 12)

It’s certainly easy to understand why so many Final Fantasy fans have compared Balthier to Han Solo over the years. Balthier is, after all, a sarcastic yet suave sky pirate who gets caught up in a war. You don’t have to break your brain to see the similarities.

However, that doesn’t make Balthier any less of a compelling character. Balthier believes he’s the real protagonist of Final Fantasy 12’s all-time great story, which is honestly hard to argue against when you consider that he’s the most consistently compelling character in the game and one of the most consistently entertaining characters in the history of this franchise.

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7. Tifa Lockhart (Final Fantasy 7)

What is it about Tifa that’s made her one of the most popular characters in Final Fantasy history? Is it her warmth? Is it her combat abilities? Is it the ways that she’s able to so easily pivot between leader and supporter based on what the situation calls for? 

The answer is “yes.” Tifa is capable in ways that the best playable video game characters sometimes need to be, but she’s still vulnerable, conflicted, and sometimes scared in the ways that any of us would be if we were in her situation. She’s a truly well-rounded character who is more than worthy of her fan-favorite status. 

6. Auron (Final Fantasy 10)

On the surface, Auron is everything that you’d expect to see in a “cool” Final Fantasy character. With his giant sword, samurai-like philosophies and lifestyle, and mysterious vibes, you could even argue that Auron represents some of the “tropes” we sometimes associate with this franchise’s most notable warriors.

Yet, Auron is so much more than the (admittedly badass) warrior he first seems to be. As we learn Auron’s backstory, we also learn more about the Final Fantasy X universe and this game’s wonderfully weird and surprisingly complicated storyline. Auron is undoubtedly cool, but it’s the sweet and sorrowful details of his backstory that elevate him above some notable competition. 

5. Cloud Strife (Final Fantasy 7)

It’s sometimes hard to look at Cloud and not see a collection of what we now think of as cliches for both Final Fantasy protagonists and JRPG characters. Even if you want to push aside the fact that Cloud helped introduce (or at least arguably perfected) some of those cliches, you can still make a compelling argument for the character’s all-time great status on the basis of some of his qualities that don’t get talked about quite as often as they should. 

Cloud is a much deeper and more mysterious character than he often gets credit for. Given that we learn more about him as we learn more about Final Fantasy 7’s plot, world, and emotional stakes, he’s also one of the best (if initially less obvious) player surrogates in the history of RPGs. 

4. Sephiroth (Final Fantasy 7)

Like so many of Final Fantasy’s other great characters, you could make an argument for Sephiroth’s “best” credentials on the basis of his design alone. Any character that looks this cool and has a theme song as incredible as “One-Winged Angel” is destined to steal some hearts. 

What’s most impressive about Sephiroth, though, are the ways that the Final Fantasy team has revisited this character and grown him over the years. Sephiroth is a tragic character in many ways, but you won’t find many who are willing to shed a tear for him or the ways he’s used his personal tragedies to internally justify unforgivable acts. 

3. Yuna (Final Fantasy 10)

While I don’t hate Tidus as much as some people do, I have to admit that I’ve always seen Yuna as the real protagonist of Final Fantasy 10 as well as one of the series’ best characters ever.

Yuna’s incredible empathy and compassion are appropriate character traits for a summoner who is so willing to complete what is generally considered to be a suicide mission. Yuna believes in the role she plays in this world, but she’s not so committed to her duties that she becomes this one-track protagonist that doesn’t get to develop a personality. Indeed, it’s Yuna’s likability that inspires so many Final Fantasy 10 players to see her complete her quest, whatever the cost may be. 

2. Kefka Palazzo (Final Fantasy 6)

When people are praising Kefka as a villain (which is obviously something that happens quite often), the line you’re almost always guaranteed to hear is that Kefka is one of the few villains in any medium who achieves their seemingly absurd plans for world domination. His almost unrivaled success as a villain has rightfully become the defining part of his legacy.

As a character, though, Kefka stands apart through the almost horror movie-like nature of his design (he’s somewhere between Pennywise and the Joker) as well as for the way he goes from court jester to world-destroying diety so convincingly. He is, at the very least, the best Final Fantasy villain ever. 

1. Vivi Ornitier (Final Fantasy 9)

Vivi’s short lifespan and the fact he was ignored and dismissed for so many of the few days he had to live should make him one of the most tragic characters in Final Fantasy history. Indeed, many aspects of Vivi’s life are a tragedy and a pretty compelling tragedy at that. 

Yet, there’s a reason that simply hearing the name “Vivi” puts a smile on so many Final Fantasy players’ faces. Vivi may discover the sorrowful truth of his existence in Final Fantasy 9, but he also learns the joys of friendship, confidence, and adventure. In many ways, the character’s final words represent how we all feel whenever we have to leave our favorite Final Fantasy characters:

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“I’m so happy I met everyone… I wish we could’ve gone on more adventures. But I guess we all have to say goodbye someday.”

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[rewritingtrauma]

Permaculture Design Course

We dialled in from living rooms, bedrooms, caravans and gardens across 11 different time zones, from Abu Dhabi to California (with Brazil and Berlin somewhere in between). Our reasons for being here were all unique and yet all similar; concerns for the future; for the mass extinction event and loss of natural habitats; hoping to learn how to live sustainably; how to grow food naturally; how to produce more than we consume; how to change career; how to live without doing harm; and how to co-create a better world for our children and future generations to grow up in. In the context of one of the biggest worldwide pandemics in living history, this group of strangers met in the timeless hinterland of the online meeting room to explore, share, and learn about positive solutions both now and for our futures... 

I stumbled across The Permaculture Design Course quite by accident (as I was looking for ways to make my struggling garden thrive rather than merely survive) but, over the course of a month, this unexpected experience changed my life completely... For the first time in 35 years I feel that I have been given access to a toolkit for living - a set of frameworks, processes and principles which speak entirely to what I feel and know to be real and right - for how to be and live in the world in deeply connected, holistic and sustainable ways... At a moment when I was feeling incredibly helpless and overwhelmed by global and personal circumstances, the PDC and this group of wonderful, disparate strangers, appeared “as if by magic” and turned around the whole way I understand myself, my power, and my place in the world. On my ‘rewriting trauma’ journey the PDC has been an invaluable turning point and has provided me with the maps and materials I most need (though may not have been looking for) for going forwards... 

Since finishing the course I have been asked numerous times by friends, family and neighbours “What IS Permaculture, exactly...?” And I have responded with numerous answers (according to who was asking, their reasons for asking and the context in which the question was asked) but I would like to take this opportunity to address that question, in the best way I know how, through the precious and manifold ideas and conversations which came up throughout the course. I want to respond to the question “What is Permaculture?” in this way (rather than offer a singular narrative) because I believe this embodies and reflects much more of the essence of what Permaculture is : a set of principles, processes and frameworks for living which can be tailored to the particular and specific answers and solutions each one of us seeks in our own, unique context. 

Word bubble formed from the PDC reactions to the question “How do you define Permaculture?” 2nd June 2020

“You can’t have sustainable food production without sustainable everything else.”

                                                                                                           Graham Bell,                                                                                            Online PDC, June 2020

June 2020 was an astonishing and deeply challenging month in so many ways… Personally, I was forced to face the vulnerability of my own situation; my reliance on shop bought food and uncertain income streams when, at the very outset of lockdown, literally all of my work dried up, my partner was made redundant and access to food was scarce and difficult. Then there was worse to come. In the late hours of the 16th of June, my cousin Beth died. The news arrived during one of our PDC sessions. She had been battling secondary and primary breast cancer. This is a heartbreak and a loss I am still trying to understand and process (but one which, had I not been held by this group and this experience, would have been so much harder to deal with). 

Meanwhile, on the international stage, people were facing so many additional threats and challenges posed by the Coronavirus Pandemic. The death statistics highlighted the social and economic inequalities, both at home and abroad, particularly along lines of race - with a disproportionate number of deaths and redundancies in people from BBIPOC (Black, Brown, Indigenous, People of Colour) backgrounds. We saw deaths in refugee camps sky rocketing. These statistics were a bitter salt in the wounds of exhaustive and institutional racism which we saw enacted again and again from the refugee crisis in Syria and Yemen to the police murders of George Floyd in Texas, Israel Berry in Oregon, Tracy Downe in Florida and many more besides… Some of us white folx, in waking up to the scale and pervasiveness of institutional and embedded violence towards our African, Asian and South East Asian Diaspora friends, that we (I) started to understand our (my) own white fragility and the systems of dis/advantage which many of us have been complicit in. And it was amidst this context of great uncertainty and upheaval that the PDC took place... 

Over the course of the month of June, with three day-long zoom meetings a week and a handful of break out/additional sessions in between, we explored (amongst many things); the ideas and inspirations behind Permaculture; the centrality of Observation; Non Violent Communication; Patterns; Input & Output Analysis; Wild Design; Trees and Soil; Guilds - what they are, how they work, making our own; Arts and Culture(s); Landscape; Climate; Planning for the future; Alternative Exchange Economies; Food and Water; Six Coloured Thinking Hats; Plant Families and Nomenclature; Sociocracy; Healing; Cooperation vs Competition; Zones and Sectors; Needs, Wants and Offers… And many more things besides and between. 

Though I was not aware of it at the time (though I might have been, had I read the curriculum and course handbook in advance!) almost the entire first half of the PDC was taken up with the co-creation of a safe and productive learning space and culture.  

One of the first questions posed to the participants was from Kate Everett who asked “What makes learning work for you?”

I struggled to identify what had worked for me in the past but could instantly conjure what made learning not work: I thought of GCSE revision, 20 cups of tea a day, desperately cramming information into my head… I thought back to how long it had taken me to learn how to tie shoe laces or to put up a tent because of how much heat and anger there was from my father and his father that I couldn’t just do it… I thought of those feelings of shame, humiliation, stress and of shutting down when I was told I was an idiot and a failure… But then, interestingly, so many others in the group articulated similar experiences - “stress, school, competition”…Some people described themselves as lone wolves, others learnt better in groups, some benefited from working together over a problem or by sharing what they were learning… But what all of us agreed upon was the inhibiting effects of stress on learning and the need to enfold experimentation, play, overview and failure in order to make our learning journeys productive and engaging...

                                                 “Learning is love”

                                                                                                           Graham Bell 

Little did we know it at the time but all this information about our individual learning experiences was being observed, gathered and harvested… as we learnt about ourselves and one another we were also learning how to create the best learning (and hence growing) conditions for us as individuals and as a collective. Though we may not have fully realised it as it was happening, we are all in the “inverted classroom” : we had all become the teachers, as well as the students and would learn more from the collective than any single teacher or pedagogy could ever bestow...

Quotes and prompts I collected throughout the course 

“A person who doesn’t make a mistake probably doesn’t make anything” 

                                                                                                            Graham Bell

Mark Shiperlee introduced us to the concept of the Culture Board and we begin brain storming what factors are important to measure our course culture against. The factors we decided were of most importance to integrate into, and develop throughout, the course were;

Positive Solutions

Long & Short Breaks

Gift Economy

Time Keeping

Mutual Respect

Fun

Creativity

Task Setting & Reporting

Inclusion

Group Work

Connect With Nature

Throughout the course we would check in on the Culture Board regularly to determine what stage these various factors were at i.e. Seed; Sprout; Leaf; Flower; or Fruit. For me this was a valuable tool in understanding where the group felt our learning journey was at - which areas were working and which were not. It made this an easy, fluid and almost anonymised process and helped to address both the successes and the failures as we went along, understanding where energy needed focusing. This was one of many visual tools, along with The Life Ethics venn diagram, Six Thinking Hats, OBREDIMET, Looby’s Design Web, Input & Output Analysis, PMI (Plus, Minus, Interesting) Analysis, Importance/Urgency Matrix, and Relative Location which I have continued to use in my own Permaculture Life/Design Processes…  

My LIfe Ethics Venn Diagram - i.e. the three main ethics of permaculture”Earth Care”, “People Care” and “Fair Shares” Where they all intersect is the core of Life Ethics 

During the course we were also given our own break out Guild groups with whom we had to develop ad present a Permaculture Design Project with (below is ‘an artist’s impression’ of our Guild The Four Acorns - Lynn, Siobhan, Lucy and myself.

“Though the problems of the world are increasingly complex, the solutions remain embarrassingly simple” 

                                                                                                             Bill Mollison

By the third week of the course, with each one of our guild feeling exhausted by various life stresses (illness, work, family, bereavement, etc) we decided the best and most effective design we could work on was one for supporting each other as a guild whilst we embarked upon our permaculture journeys (the one thing which united all of us was that we wished to continue beyond the course). 

We started applying some of the tools and processes we acquired throughout the course to our own visions for the future. We started off with Holmgren’s Permaculture Design Principles;

Principle 1. Observe & Interact

We began our guild process by gradually getting to know one another, developing  & discussing  project ideas that would tap into all of our needs & aspirations. 

Principle 2.Catch & Store Energy

As we were all feeling a bit burnout we realised we needed to do something that would hold space and energy for us as individuals and a collective i.e. catch and store energy by making and holding space for one another. We wanted to encourage each other to feel safe enough to start exploring with new eyes and to assist each other’s courage in the face of major life changes.

Principle 3.Obtain a yield

We all wanted to carry on our development beyond the course and to share permaculture with others - so we asked the questions “How could we support one another in this?” But, in addition “What renewable resources and services did we have that we could use, share and apply?” and “What could we create - the main yield - within this guild?” We decided that the yield we could create in the present, but carrying into the future, was a space full of loving-support, inspiration, challenge and abundance.

Principle 4. Apply Self-regulation & accept feedback & Principle 5. Use & Value Renewable Resources and Services

As we began using permaculture tools to explore our individual designs, these processes enabled us to support and affirm one another; to share wisdom; tell stories; hear, value and integrate one another as individuals in a guild; become energised and strengthened by our diverse experiences, perspectives, knowledge(s), points of view; and to be challenged and strengthened by processes and making compassionate space for learning through failure too... And believe me, we did fail... 

Mind Map at the outset of my own Permaculture Life Design exploring my assets, helps/opportunities, limitations, needs, aims and potential tools & processes to employ

                         “It takes shit... literal shit... but then you get humus”

                                                                                                                   Siobhan

On the last day of the course all of the individual guilds presented their design projects and it was amazing to see the wealth, depth and diversity of those ideas and the tools and processes (which we had been given throughout the course) put into action. There were design solutions that addressed; food scarcity; social isolation; mental health issues; segregation; alienation; loss of habitat and species; water shortages; poor health; access to education; job losses; seed sharing; community spaces; and so many more big issues. It was staggering.

In such a short space of time this small group of strangers had come together and, with the support of our guides and course leaders, co-created a network of support from across the world, positively enriching one another and the larger ecosystems each of us are a part of. It was a little island of paradise which cultivated an abundance of new perspectives, hope and courage. By showing us what might be possible and - rather than getting too mired in the negative/things we cannot control - looking to appreciate what we have, what we can be and what we can create together, the PDC taught us how diversity and collaboration can help us, both as individuals and a society, develop resilience in the face of the overwhelming challenges of our times.

It was an experience I will never forget and which I hope to keep alive as I go into the future (remembering to regularly use, sharpen and adapt those valuable tools)... 

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy Episode: 14X23

Wow. In true Shondaland style this episode was an emotional rollercoaster! Such spectacular acting. The fashion in this episode was wonderful. I LOVED April’s top at the beginning. April designing Alex and Jo’s wedding invitations made my heart melt. April clearly loves it and Alex and Jo are so happy. I’m glad that Jo finally gets to have the wedding that she wants with someone who truly loves her and doesn’t hurt her. She doesn’t have to hide anymore.

Awwww. I loved the Zola and Meredith scene. And there’s Bailey and Ellis in the background. Too cute! Uncle Alex! My heart is a pile of goo. Meredith’s line, “Alex is gonna hate it!” made me laugh! Baby Leo is too cute! And Betty’s back! Although this storyline is rather unrealistic. In real life child services would have a field day! Aren’t they doing checkups?

Arizona and Bailey’s scene made me tear up. I loved Bailey’s speech about Arizona’s evolution and their relationship. Very true. This episode really pulled at my heart strings! Also Harriet is adorable. I liked the scene with Webber and how he was mad that he didn’t hear she was leaving from her.

Welcome back Dr. Nicole Herman! Geena Davis is amazing! She was SO funny in this episode. I really love seeing portrayals of people with various disabilities and impairments living pull beautiful sexy hilarious bitchy lives. In real life that’s what happens. Things happen you deal with it and you make a new life. So much of the way so many conditions or issues are portrayed shows people as inspiration porn and I’d love that Grey’s Anatomy rejects that and makes a point of showing people as they are living their lives being amazing. Favourite Line: “Thank God. She would’ve taken my hearing next.” I’m glad that it wasn’t Amelia’s tumour’s fault. That would have devastated her. I also liked Dr. Herman’s line, “Sex when you’re blind is way better.” I wonder if that’s true. Also when she said, “But that makes it sound like we’re a dude.” I laughed out loud! I liked that they combined Arizona’s exit and leaving for New York for Sofia’s happiness with her continuing her work on fetal surgery and research.

Originally I thought what they were going to do is have Dr. Herman come to Grey Sloan with an exciting opportunity and then her and Sofia were going to reunite with Callie and move to New York. But in retrospect that would’ve been too coincidental and looked cheesy on screen. The fact that she’s chosen to move to New York for Sofia and then Dr. Herman brings her this new idea, one that can be done from anywhere, makes more sense. The surprise hug made me laugh. It was very classic Arizona. Although it must be terrifying if you’re blind to have someone suddenly hug you.

Bailey with the real talk parenting advice lol! When they brought Matthew in as a patient I was surprised. I honestly thought he was going to find April in his role as a paramedic and bring her in. Twist! Also I hate Vik Roy. He’s an ass. Get him out of here! He can leave anytime. I felt to bad for Bailey when she was worried about both April and Ben. That can’t be easy.

Relationship advice: Find someone who only sees yellow too! And loves cake! I’m with Jo and Alex on this one it’s all yellow. Who cares? Also the wedding industry is a shame (mostly) full of people who overcharge for everything and straight up make up stuff. Nuff said. The scenery was really beautiful in this episode. I wonder if they shot it in Seattle or somewhere nearby. Thank goodness Meredith is a good liar! Why do the interns always think they’re invited to things?!?! They’re all super immature and don’t have any concrete relationships with the attendings. Though I do like that Helm got an invite because of Jimi Hendrix. :P

Maggie’s Amelia moment when she’s all about her big stupid feelings and blubbering and refuses to do her job reminded me why I hate her. As Meredith says, “We don’t need people with big feelings we need people who can help.” In real life she’d be a terrible surgeon. If you pulled that crap all the time you would be terminated. So would Amelia. Nonsense. Sigh. I miss Cristina and Lexie. They were great and actually good surgeons and sisters to Meredith.

I felt so bad for Alex. He’s on his way to go cake testing with April and instead he has to help resuscitate her. Talk about a bad day at work. I loved him bringing the truth and the callback. I also loved all of Bailey and Webber’s interactions. They shine in scenes together. Jackson’s scenes in this episode were incredible. Phenomenal acting by Jesse Williams. I was legitimately crying during the scene where they were praying and then trying to get a rhythm.

I love that we finally got to see Arizona admit that she’s been lying about Callie! That Callie has been selfless and supportive and that she’s been lying to make herself feel better. FINALLY!!! So April and Matthew are indeed dating. I was kind of hoping that she’d end up with Koracick and that they’d get some closure there with her telling him about Samuel. I’m thinking maybe the volunteer storyline will lead to her exit? I’m still unsure though.

Thank goodness Ben’s okay! Poor Bailey! I love Meredith’s soliloquy about being robbed versus what she’s had being a bonus. Jackson pleading with a God he doesn’t believe in for April to be okay made me cry a lot. Jesse Williams’ gave such a spectacular performance here! Then she squeezed his hand and opened her eyes. And then Kepner was back to being Kepner! I love April and Owen’s friendship.

I thought the end scene of the episode was really great. I didn’t catch that Meredith was retiring Derek’s ferryboat scrub cap. A friend on Twitter told me about it so I went back and re-watched it. I checked the wikia and according to Meredith’s page she used to wear a purple scrub cap when she first became and attending before she started wearing Derek’s to honour him. I wonder if she’ll go back to using that one or pick a new one with new meaning and different symbolism.

As for what it means I hope it means that Meredith has come to a place where she’s accepted what’s happened to her and finally feels ready to move on. I’d love for her to find love again! I really hope Scott Speedman comes back next season! I keep checking on how his character is doing on Animal Kingdom in the hopes that he’ll come back.

As for next week’s promo … Jo and Alex get locked in an effing shed and miss their OWN wedding in the promo for next week’s episode! LMFOA! Haha only on Grey’s! Camilla’s tweets were hilarious too! Can’t wait for next week!

[hot-mysticc-mess-blog]

I love your blog and I was wondering if you could write a headcanon for the RFA+V&Saeran when they see MC who they broke up with for something in the past. Like they miss her and want her, so how would they try to win her back. I'm sorry if I'm being a bit confusing.

My Masterlist

Zen

His contract to keep your relationship quiet, a new fantastic role, a rough patch he knows, in hindsight, was his fault.

He doesn’t really remember but he thinks your last argument was something about fish-shaped bread? How stupid.

It was awkward for a while. Zen used to leave the chatroom anytime you showed up, until you offered to leave in his place

He felt so guilty about it that he always stuck around, lamenting logging into the chatroom in case he found himself trapped watching you chat happily with everyone else

You seemed like you were doing so well

Even after that, the two of you ignored each other for the most part

He texted Yoosung party guest suggestions and made the poor boy ask in Zen’s place, even though he knew you were too nice to turn down a guest just because the suggestion came from your ex

He mellowed out as things got better in his career. He found a new girlfriend. She was pretty, and content with anything she could have of him, even if that did not include his love.

But you still saw each other at the party, and he was still absolutely taken with you

He caught himself staring, his eyes following as you moved throughout the room

A few drinks later and he was itching to touch you, kiss you, beg for your forgiveness

Would that be cheating?

Zen turned to his girlfriend. She caught his eye and smiled.

It would? Damn

His relationship lasted all of another two weeks before he broke it off

Zen tentatively starts conversations with you, notably reserved. Yoosung even mentioned the sharp drop-off in his narcissistic comments.

He spent every spare moment rehearsing the speech he was going to give you. And he waited, for the perfect moment.

Could he have texted you at any time? Or called? Absolutely.

But no, the perfect moment came at 3 AM one evening. Yoosung had just left the chatroom to play games, and Zen was just about to hit the exit button when your name popped up on screen

He spewed out his speech, taking up nearly three whole screens of the chat…and then he couldn’t stop

He just kept on babbling, whatever words he could think of that might get you to come back to him.

Jaehee

Nothing like internalized religious shame to ruin a relationship

It was always something she had fought with, but over time it became too much and she gave in

She was being too greedy, and it would hurt both of you in the end.

Your break-up was a quiet, soft discussion over coffee at table 7

Jaehee already did most of the administrative tasks for the cafe, but she took over what was left

She opened the cafe in the morning. You closed the cafe in the evenings. A manager relayed any communications.

You had never told the rest of the RFA you were together in the first place, and the breakup was somehow even more awkward for it

Things went back to the way they were…except not. It was like peeling a sticker from a bottle only to find that the invisible sticky residue had been left behind.

Jaehee was professional as always, you were polite as always, but everything hurt

The rest of the RFA noticed the gloom, Seven put the pieces together easily enough. Jumin at the very least suspected, which you put together when he offered both of you vague but particularly relevant advice

Jaehee immediately noticed how much she misses your presence

Running the cafe wasn’t half as much fun without you

Sitting at home and watching Zen’s musicals was still very relaxing…but not as enjoyable when she doesn’t have you to enjoy them with

She swears even her coffee isn’t as flavorful when you aren’t around.

She found herself up at wee hours of the morning most nights, looking at the crucifix up on her wall.

“Is this really what you want?” She asked, out loud to an empty house.  

She finally found happiness…why was she sabotaging it for herself?

The next day she came by right at the end of your shift, clinging to a clipboard with the inventory documents in order to avoid anxiously fidgeting.

“MC?” Her voice came out more unsure than she had hoped for. “Would you mind have a cup of coffee with me?”

Audibly sighed with relief when you agreed

She waits until the awkward silence takes over before speaking

“I think, no, I made a mistake when I broke up with you. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, that I was being too greedy by wanting the coffee shop and such a close relationship with you. I should have just spoken with you about it. You were the one who made me want to chase my happiness, and I wanted to build this cafe with you, together. My life is better with you by my side.”

“Of course, I understand if you don’t want to but I…I would like to try again.”

Yoosung

The process of breaking up was a messy, three weeks of arguing. The actual break-up lasted all of twenty-four hours

School was hard, and you understood that, but he was irritable all the time

Everything that everyone did annoyed him and you two found yourselves arguing over anything he looked at

He brought your fights into the chat room, even when you tried to keep negative conversation to private texts

You suggested maybe he should take a break

He took that phrase, and interpreted it to mean something you hadn’t intended at all. “If we need to take a break, then we shouldn’t be together at all! We’re done!”

Yoosung had about twenty-four hours of rage-based satisfaction before your absence caught up to him

By then, the RFA found out from you what happened.

Zen was torn between his closest friend and you. You told him you would be alright, and that he did not need to come and see you

That was good, because Yoosung arrived at Zen’s apartment 10 minutes later.

Zen updated the chatroom later that evening, letting everyone know Yoosung drank a can of beer, cried, and then Zen put him to bed on the couch

Yoosung was back up again at three am, alone in a chatroom frantically typing out how much he missed you while he paced in Zen’s living room

Then he started calling

You woke up to several voicemails, all apologies from Yoosung

Jumin

He swore he would never let you go. Even when things were bad he couldn’t bring himself to get a divorce

Instead, the two of you separated. Though he felt he could no longer provide support for your emotional well-being, he offered his continued financial support.

The polite refusal you gave him, tears in your eyes and hands on your suitcase, made his chest tighten. He loosened his tie, hoping that would make it feel easier to breathe.

Zen spent the next week with you in Rika’s apartment, doting on your every need and bitching about Jumin every chance he got

Jumin threw himself into his work

He went back to treating you professionally. Seven made the mistake of joking about your newly single status only once before he discovered Jumin’s wrath was not worth it.

You spent the next several months trying to untangle your life from Jumin’s, knowing it would never fully work

Jumin tried to convince himself things would be okay without you. Love was a foolish endeavor. Work was the only thing that mattered.

But you had changed him, and now all of a sudden the idea of going back to a life without love, without the light you brought into his life make his heart ache.

Jaehee took over any communication that involved you, relaying any questions and information Jumin needed.

He made sure that was nothing for the first couple of months, even to the point of procrastinating on things that needed to be done just so he could avoiding saying your name

There were little things you left all around the house by accident. He couldn’t go anywhere without being reminded of you. He left them alone at first, refusing to touch them. If it was in the path of somewhere he needed to go, he had a maid remove it.

Slowly, he started gathering them all up. Whenever he would find something that was yours, he would store it in a box he kept on nightstand on your side of the bed. One day, he would send it to you.

The party came around. The entire RFA is on edge, anxious about the two of you seeing each other for the first time in nearly a year.

Seven helped you get ready beforehand. He made sure you looked great, even without Jumin’s designer gowns and personal stylists.

Jumin had never sent you the box with the last of your things, nor any divorce papers.

Yoosung and Seven had far too much fun pretending to “scout” for you, checking the entire venue for Jumin before you go inside. When he arrived, you knew because your cell phone vibrated four consecutive times with text alerts from the other RFA members

Jumin caught your eye a couple of times, you look away and continue your mingling, but the moment he saw you he knew exactly why he had never fully ended things with you: he never wanted your relationship to end

Those vows he took at the alter when he married you, he meant every word. A year of separation and all the arguments in the world would never change that. He wanted to fix things…but did you?

Jumin kept an eye on you while he networked with other guests, until he finally saw you wander to a quieter corner of the main room for a brief respite.

He ended the conversation he was having rather abruptly, in favor of approaching you with two glasses of wine in hand.

“MC?” He held out one of the glasses for you. “Would you be willing to try couple’s therapy?”

Saeyoung

He thought he could keep you safe from the agency. You were the one who made him believe that

And he could, from his original agency, but then a new agency started to recruit him just as he was getting his civilian life with you in place.

The two of you were engaged now…but if you got married, then your bond would be on paper.

He let his thoughts spiral, panicked one evening at the third attempt to infiltrate his security systems. It didn’t work, of course, but the potential threat was still there.

He pre-packed your things, set up a tracker on your phone, and arranged a Buber to take you to Jumin’s penthouse

The break up was quick. You were in the car and moved out of the house before you had time to process anything that happened.

After you two break up, Saeyoung went quiet.

No one knew if he was actually reading the chat logs at all, but the entire RFA spoke out, asking him to talk to you, to explain what happened, eventually just to say anything

Saeyoung spoke only with Jumin, and did all his work from behind the scenes.

Saeran gave semi-regular updates on his brother in the chatroom after reading the third chat log of you begging to know if he was okay. His brother’s relationship shouldn’t have been any of his business, but he liked you. You were a good person, and no one seemed to understand why Saeyoung did it.

Your role in the RFA only grew. It was rough at first, but the entire RFA was supportive in helping you get back on your feet.

Saeyoung read all the chat logs, including the messages you left for him. He kept an eye on where you were at all times, back to checking on you every 2.35 seconds in his bunker. He made sure to never look you in the eyes, lest it break his resolve.

Saeran lived with him now, but the house was quiet without you around. The twins’ relationship was still tense, but this had just made it worse.

At first, it was just more petty arguments than usual. Then, Saeran started asking why Saeyoung left MC. When Saeyoung wouldn’t answer, it became constant displeased grumbling every time they passed each other. Eventually, it became an outright fight.

“They didn’t do a damn thing and you left them! You left them just like you left me!”

“It’s for her protection Saeran! I took took care of my agency, but if we get married they’re going to be a target for anyone that wants our skills!”

“Did something happen? Did you even talk to them about this!? Why didn’t you ask me for help?”

“I don’t need help. If I told them why I wanted to end things, they wouldn’t have let me do it. It was for their safety. This was the best option.”

“And how did your idea of ‘the best option’ work out for everyone last time!?” Saeran slams his hand down on Saeyoung’s desk, knocking over a long cat bobble toy you had given him as a gift. Saeran’s eyes welled with tears, hands shaking with rage. “MC knew exactly what they were getting into! You had no right to just kick them out of our lives!”

Saeyoung looks up at his brother with wide eyes. Was this what you looked like right now too? Was that the expression and the emotion and the reality that he had been avoiding?

The next day he showed up with a eleven robotic roses that meowed like cats, an IOU for a kitten, and one rose that played a recording of him saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again

The sound was awful

Not his best idea

V/ Jihyun

He was the one who decided he was not okay with making you wait

It had been two years of barely keeping in contact

Another cancelled ticket. Another stub for the scrapbook. Another RFA party he would miss, not that he did anything for the group anymore.

You had been amazingly understanding, as usual, even when he broke your heart.

Yoosung already hated him. Jumin was getting a little frustrated, and the rest of the RFA expected him to never really come back. Him breaking up with you? You were the only one particularly heart-broken by the loss.

Everywhere he went, he saw you. Greece, Africa, The United States, Egypt. No matter what country he was in he would see someone on the street and for a few seconds he would be convinced it was you.

God knows how many times he whipped around in the middle of the street only to find himself staring at someone who was…decidedly not you.

Until one day, on a brief return to Korea, when he whipped around and he swore he saw your face. Not the back of your head, not you hands or your clothes, your face.  

“MC?”

You turn to look at him, surprised to see him after all these years.

At first, it just starts with an invitation to a cafe

He’s friendly and kind and apologizes for how things went between the two of you

Of course he wants you back, but he’s not going to force it. He was the one who broke the two of you up to begin with, and he has done nothing to earn your respect or love.

So…he stayed. And he texted. And he logged on to the RFA app to speak with all the members. He rented a studio and slept there on a couch in the back room while he put a life back together in Korea.

Things still aren’t perfect, but he’s trying. He has a place here, and friends, a life he can offer to share now.

He waits until the next RFA party ends, and catches you as you stow away one of the crystal centerpieces for the tables.

“I hope I’m not ruining you evening with this request…would you want to go out on a date with me?”

Saeran

The two of you started your relationship way too early.

He thought he was better now, that he could just live his life

But one day, the feelings hit him hard, like a ton of bricks. All of the progress, all of the work he did to get himself back where he was disappeared.

What was the point? What was the point of trying when it was all going to come back with no warning for the rest of his life?

He doesn’t even remember exactly when he broke up with you, because you never left his side.

It was somewhere between not eating for two days and Saeyoung checking him back into the psychiatric hospital.

“Go home already!” He would shout. You had no idea why, he had been okay with you here just a moment before.

It was because he noticed the glimmer of sadness in your eyes, or the way your expression drooped with disappointment.

Eventually, he got better. They released him from the hospital, but you stopped coming by so often.

It used to be you were there every single day, now you come  by sometimes to talk to Saeyoung, and check in on him briefly before you flee the bunker.

You got eerily quiet in the chatroom; even when he wasn’t around, you just weren’t quite as bright as you had been

He missed seeing you smile. He missed hearing your voice.

It’s another night of being up at three am. Another night of Saeyoung hovering around him, like if he looks away Saeran might try to hurt himself again.

An infomercial for some terrible super fruit health drink is on, and it reminds him of the time he tapped your shoulder to tell you his snarky comment about it, only to find you had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

You were the best thing to ever happen to him

He picks up his phone, and opens the text log.

i’m sorry for what I said

I wish you’d come by more often

I miss you

[pcurrytravels]

Thoughts: New Orleans (Part V)

It was day three in New Orleans, and once again we woke up early for breakfast. We found out that there was a location of Daisy Duke’s in the CBD that was even closer to our hotel so we went there. I decided to just go ahead and get breakfast this time…..with a side of crawfish hushpuppies. I have to say, I actually liked this location of Duke’s better. The service was quicker, the prices were slightly cheaper (might have something to do with how the other location is in the more touristy French Quarter) and the sweet tea was even better. Oh, and they offered crawfish hushpuppies here while the other location didn’t. And yes they were delicious.

After we finished, my mom went back to the room while I took a little morning stroll, exploring the CBD some more before I decided to give PJ’s Coffee on Canal a try. PJ’s Coffee is the ubiquitous coffeehouse in New Orleans (I literally only saw two Starbucks the entire time I was there), and after trying their product I can easily see why. Remember when I said in the Mini-Guide how their blended Granita drinks are like Frappuccinos but better? Well, they are. They’re smoother, sweeter, and likely made with better quality coffee beans (I mean, New Orleans is a port city so I imagine they’d have pretty easy access to a number of things, including coffee beans). So yes, if you visit New Orleans and see a PJ’s Coffee (and you definitely will), be sure to stop by and give them a try.

Going back to the room to chill for a minute, we then set off to the National WWII Museum. We used the St. Charles Streetcar to get there, and I must say, riding this one was a much more pleasant experience than any of our rides on the Canal or Riverwalk streetcars. Although it can still get crowded, this line is rarely ever standing-room only. Unlike Canal, it also has windows that open, which is surprisingly a very effective means of keeping things cool on board (the Riverwalk line has windows that open too, but that line is usually packed with people and, thanks to the resulting heat attracted to human bodies, an open window is not very effective). It felt nice being able to easily grab window seats without having to worry about having to push through people upon reaching our stop.

Down St. Charles Avenue, through the CBD and Warehouse District, we got off at Lee Circle which was, almost appropriately, right next door to the Civil War Museum and a block away from the National WWII Museum. Why am I saying it was appropriate? Because Lee Circle is named after Robert E. Lee; you know, the Confederate general?

Yeah, modern New Orleans may be a fairly liberal, morally loose and open-minded place, but it’s still the South. There’s going to be reminders of the antebellum and Jim Crow eras all over the place, and that includes public “memorials” to the Confederacy. Ugh. Thankfully, last year the local government decided to remove the statue of Lee that sat atop the pillar pictured above. As they should, because reminders of the more shameful parts of American history such as that need to be in museums, not shamelessly displayed in public (now what they need to do is change the name back to Tivoli Circle or something but I guess that’s none of my business).

Speaking of museums, the National WWII Museum is great……if you’re into the topic. I don’t know if it’s because I learned all about it in school (I remember having one history teacher in high school who was particularly passionate about this era for some reason so I already feel like I studied it to death) or what, but it just didn’t do much for me. Aside from the exhibit about servicemen of color in the War, the Japanese internment exhibit, an infographic which detailed the threat of Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy and the Japanese Empire and the C-47 hanging in the lobby, nothing about the museum really caught my attention. I honestly feel like it was just too small as my mom and I were in and out of there in less than thirty minutes, which is weird when considering how highly regarded the museum is (I’m also VERY happy we got in with the power pass as the admission price is WAY too high at face for what you get in my opinion). It’s a shame the Civil War Museum next door wasn’t included in the Power Pass as I always found the Civil War more interesting than World War II to be honest.

Once we were done, we hopped back on the streetcar to Canal and from there made our way to Jackson Square once more. We first stopped inside the PJ’s for a moment to enjoy frozen lemonades and air conditioning. You’d think we would have an easier time getting used to this weather, seeing that our family originates out of Alabama and Mississippi in addition to being the sort of climate our ancestors were forced to do unpaid labor in for hundreds of years but I digress. Upon cooling down, we stopped to listen to the live brass band for a few minutes before heading into The Cabildo.

The Cabildo is one of two twin buildings which flank the St. Louis Cathedral. Originally serving municipal purposes, the two of them as well as the 1850 House have been repurposed into outposts of the Louisiana State Museum. The Cabildo in particular once operated as the city hall, in addition to being the site where the Louisiana Purchase commenced, but it now hosts an exhibit about Louisiana’s history; spanning from its settlement by the French in the 1600’s to the Reconstruction era. Now, it was fairly interesting and all, with paintings, artifacts and templates about the battle of New Orleans, the region’s indigenous peoples, the differences between French and Spanish colonial rule/policy, West African slaves and free people of color, the Louisiana Purchase and the area’s history with pirates, but overall, I didn’t find it as captivating as The Presbytere.

On the other side of the Cathedral, this not-quite identical building (if you pay close attention, you’ll notice it’s painted in a lighter color and has a flatter, more squared-off roof than the Cabildo /architecture nerd) was originally a courthouse, but now serves as a museum for Mardi Gras, Napoleon’s death mask…………and Hurricane Katrina.

I can remember the news reports like it was yesterday. Having been under the impression that hurricanes were just a Florida thing or something, needless to say, I was scratching my head in confusion at the whole ordeal. My fourteen year-old brain was struggling to comprehend how a hurricane could both reach and do that much damage to somewhere so far inland from a coast (I managed to figure it out a few science classes later), but I still just shrugged it off and thought “oh, they’ll be fine, Florida gets through it every time!” However, upon seeing video footage of vast swaths of houses underwater along with thousands of people crowding into the Superdome, that’s when the severity of the situation hit me.

Even more upsetting was how horribly the situation was handled. People were without food and water for DAYS after the storm made landfall (something we’re seeing a repeat of with Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico basically). It definitely should not have taken nearly a week for FEMA to show up. Then again……the overall catastrophe had more to do with the failure of the area’s levee and floodwall system than it did with the storm itself. I have to ask, why were they in such bad shape in the first place? Many theories and conspiracies still abound to this day, but either way, what happened was a tragic mess that could have been avoided in so many ways.

There were a number of pictures on display of the aftermath, as well as video footage of the day the storm made landfall, and it all felt so……..eerie. Sad, but eerie. To think this eerily deserted city, under siege by a raging, violent storm, is the same vibrant, energetic place that we had been walking around in for the past several days. I almost had to look out the door just to make sure everything was alright; even though, in a lot of ways, things aren’t totally alright (…….a whole thirteen years later). Houses and buildings devastated by Katrina can still be spotted all over the city, and although I didn’t go see it for myself, it’s been said that the Lower Ninth Ward (arguably the most devastated neighborhood of all) has more or less been deemed a lost cause and they gave up on rebuilding a long time ago. New Orleans has definitely rebounded, but it’s still heartbreaking to see so many lingering signs of this catastrophe.

After finishing the Katrina exhibit, we walked through a hall that featured tidbits about Hurricane Betsy, another devastating hurricane that took place back in 1965 (although still not as bad as Katrina) before walking past the random sight of Napoleon’s death mask and upstairs to the Mardi Gras exhibit. Granted, it was more or less a retread of Mardi Gras World, aside from focusing less on floats and more on the history of the various krewes, the “throws” (beads, doubloons and the like) and costume design. It was still a lot of fun none the less. Alas, the clock was ticking, and we wanted to cram one more thing in before embarking on our cruise, so it was off to the lower Pontalba building for the 1850 House.

The Pontalba buildings are two, four-story, red-brick twin buildings which flank Jackson Square. Built in the 1840’s by an accomplished businesswoman known as Micaela Pontalba, they were originally designed as Parisian-style luxury rowhomes, with high-end retail and dining establishments being housed on the first floor. Having fallen into disrepair by the 1930’s, they were then extensively repurposed into apartments, which are still in use to this day. The portion now known as the 1850 House remained untouched, however, instead being used by the Louisiana State Museum as a time capsule exhibit. Within, you’ll be given a glimpse into the lives of middle-class New Orleanians in the 1800’s.

Through a small courtyard, and up a rickety and old-fashioned spiral staircase, you’ll be greeted to a template which provides some information about past occupants of the row home which leads to the parlor and dining room. Granted, each room is protected by a glass railing, likely to prevent damage to the various antiques as it is a self-guided tour after all. Basically, all you can really do is look on at the rooms and their vintage furnishings from the hallway. On the third floor, you’ll find the bedrooms and the nursery and going from there (the layout of the place was pretty confusing so I’m not sure what direction we were going in at this point), you’ll see an exterior room which served as the slave and/or servant quarters until you reach the kitchen and storage room at the base of the house. Now, I’m a vintage/antique nerd, so I enjoyed it, but it probably would have been just a bit more enjoyable if they offered a guided tour, thus allowing you to explore the rooms in detail.

Oh wait, what time is it? Oh, time for the Creole Queen Paddlewheel Cruise! We hopped on the Riverwalk line of the streetcar once more and took it to Spanish Plaza (a monument to Spain’s colonial legacy in the area) which is where the boat was docked. The Creole Queen is one of a number of paddlewheel boats in New Orleans which offer old-fashioned river cruises. Once you hop aboard, you’ll be treated to stunning views of the city and the river (provided you can ignore its gross and oily brown hue) while the guide gives you a little history lesson. Granted, most of the stuff he was saying I already found out from the other tour guides and museums I went to, but it was still enjoyable nonetheless. As I looked around and took pictures of the CBD skyline, Jackson Square from afar, Algiers, the New Orleans port, the old Domino sugar factory, the plantations in the distance and even more Hurricane Katrina ruins, we came to a stop at the Chalmette Battlefield and National Cemetery; the site of the Battle of New Orleans in 1815.

We got off the boat and walked towards an old (creepy-looking and probably haunted) plantation home known as the Malus-Beauregard House, where a man dressed in 19th-century military regalia waited for us. From there, he walked us to this spot underneath a very large oak tree, next to a small bayou, where he began to talk about the Battle of New Orleans. And honestly? I don’t know if it was the story itself or if this particular guide was just boring, but he wasn’t able to hold my attention. It was also hot AF and there were mosquitoes and dragonflies swarming all over the place, so I just took a few pictures of the battlefield and the house before making my way back to the air-conditioned, bug free boat; savoring some bread pudding while waiting things out.

Upon arriving back in New Orleans, we rushed over to Audubon Aquarium, seeking to cram in one more attraction before resting up for our ghost tour in the French Quarter. You better leave the lights on for this one.  

[katstrm]

genderqueerness as seen in celebrities and pop culture

I am of the opinion that queerness is literally so much fun to learn and delve into. I think that there is a specific type of freedom that follows when you’re able to distance yourself from the gender binary and all the rules about how to live surrounding this binary.

In a theoretical vacuum bubble of a world, gender shouldn’t have an impact on how we go about conducting our lives. It shouldn’t affect what careers are available to you, or influence the expectations of how well you can fulfill the duties of said job. It shouldn’t affect how you’re compensated for doing said job. It shouldn’t affect who interacts with you, who makes up your friendships and general relationships, it shouldn’t affect how you’re served in a restaurant, it shouldn’t affect your commute as you walk down a busy sidewalk. Some could argue that the bare minimum aspects gender can reasonably influence is in how one chooses to dress and express themself, but I don’t think that should be true either. I personally feel like if we had to absolutely boil down why gender must exist, it would be to differentiate who out there qualifies as a potential partner under your sexual orientation. Being a queer person myself, I absolutely could care less how you choose to identify; if you so much as glance my way for more than 2 seconds at a time, I’ve already got a wedding dress and venue picked and invitations sent out. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with choosing to identify with your gender assigned at birth, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with challenging that either, because ultimately, the only person who has the final say in living our lives is yourself. I acknowledge that relationships and interpersonal communications definitely complicate that a little (read: a lot), but I feel that what I said still stands in the end. But that’s just me.

Alas, I am reminded again that despite what my ego tells me, the universe unfortunately does not revolve around me. People are treated differently because of their gender. The world and the systems that run it are often deeply biased, and unfortunately, gender plays heavily into that bias. 

Let’s talk a little bit about that.

What is the gender binary? How does it relate to assigned sex and gender identity?

Gender is considerably nuanced and this article here from genderspectrum.org  is a great place to start. 

The gender binary is a system of social constructs used to classify and differentiate between traditional masculine and feminine qualities, aspects, persons, and more. This binary is what influences the numerous facets of life I described above. Examples of this binary can be seen in a range from active, dynamic practices such as the roles people are expected to fulfill in a society, to smaller, ‘insignificant’ details, like deciding which colors are acceptable to be worn and liked by someone. 

Assigned sex is the determined label of a baby at birth, based upon the presence of a particular form of genitalia, and occasionally, hormone testing. Assigned sex may or may not later influence a person’s gender identity, which is the “internal experience and naming of our gender” (1). Gender identity shapes how we view ourselves, how we choose to dress, and how we act. Gender identities generally span across a spectrum, presenting somewhere between masc and femme. 

Gender identity in pop culture

Queerness (as far as gender identity) has deep roots in cultural history. While it wasn’t necessarily accepted as a norm that could be adopted by the average citizen, the practice of dressing as the opposite gender for the sake of art (more specifically, in theatrical and religious representation) was perfectly normal in ancient Greece and Sumer (2). 

The Greek god Dionysus. (3).

This continued on in Shakespearean times, where gender role reversal and cross-dressing were common plot devices in numerous works. 

Actor Mark Rylance as Olivia, in a modern production of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. (4).

Eventually, this practice evolved in more modern times with the 20th-century emergence of queens, who were queer men who presented themselves more effeminately with the use of make up, wigs, and feminine clothing. This practice itself further evolved into the underground LGBTQ+ ball scene (which was actually present as early as the 1920s, but rose to a certain prominence in the 1980s in cities like New York, Atlanta, Baltimore, and more).

It would be simplistic to say that at this point in history drag queens were born, because in reality they had always existed, but to varying degrees of societal acceptance. But in this period between the late 20th century and mid 2010s pop culture had come to accept this exploration of queer expression and blatant disregard for the rules of the gender binary, not without the help of high-profile queens like RuPaul and Divine (after whom Disney had actually designed the character Ursula after).

Drag queen RuPaul, shot by Annie Leibovitz for Vogue, May 2019. (5).

Drag queen Divine, and Ursula of Disney’s The Little Mermaid. (6).

In much more recent times, pop culture has seen a significant rise in the representation of genderqueer artists and celebrities. A number of celebrities come to mind as I write this, including Harry Styles, Jonathan Von Ness, Jaden and Willow Smith, Janelle Monáe, Kristen Stewart, and King Princess. These artists generally reject gendered standards in favor of more freedom in expressing themselves, whether it be with their personal appearance, or in the art they create. 

Harry Styles for Beauty Papers #8. (7).

I’ve chosen to focus on pop-rock artist King Princess, affectionately referred to as Ms. King by fans, mostly because I deeply admire her music and her absolute chaos of an Instagram curation. I feel that I can relate to her, given how close we are in age and how we were raised consuming the same cultural content fed to baby Gen Xers throughout the 2000s. Her music and visuals challenge the seemingly-straight domination of pop music. She’s no stranger to controversial antics, of which she’s ironically avoided criticism, by willingly indulging in overt expressions of explicit queerness head-on, with zero shame. 

King Princess by Ryan Duffin for Them. (8).

Ms. King is by no doubt an underrated star in the music scene, but she’s quick to acknowledge that her uncensored profession of self probably does have some detrimental effect on her success as an artist (9). But she’s not afraid of that. Conversely, it’s this roaring, vulgar lack of shame for being herself that’s what makes her so appealing to today’s generation of young people. She exemplifies the pure, unadulterated freedom for one to exist as they are. I’m confident in claiming that she’s definitely carved out space for queer artists to coexist in pop culture alongside “the straights.” 

[tomoyanosekai]

七転び八起き Style ~Resilience and Hope~ (Nanakorobi Yaoki Style)

This post is dedicated to my former teachers. Although none of them know about this blog or will ever read this, I dedicate this to them and the journey I’ve been on. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything you all have done.  

“Tsuzukeru koto ga daijisa

suki koso jouzu nare

Tsumazuita tte kamawanai

Nanakorobi yaoki style”

(“The most important thing is to keep going

be good at what you like

It's okay if you stumble somewhere

Your style is to keep getting up when you fall”)

「七転び八起き。」

“Nanakorobi yaoki.”

(Fall down seven times, stand up eight.)

As I laid awake in my bed late at night, I kept listening to a song that got me through last summer in Japan. That song was “P.A.R.T.Y. ~Universe Festival~” by DA PUMP. As I kept listening, it was the phrase “Nanakorobi Yaoki” that kept me up thinking.

 “Fall down seven times, stand up eight.”

To give some context, I was interning at a Japanese American Community Center three years ago around this time. One of the duties that came with interning there included helping out at a Children’s Camp dedicated to teaching kids about their culture and heritage as Japanese Americans. At the camp, we would need to do various arts, crafts, stories and skits with the kids and teach them about their heritage. One such story that we told to them was about the Daruma, and how if it’s knocked over, it’s inner design allows it to continue to get back up; hence the phrase “Nanakorobi yaoki,” or “Fall down seven times, get back up eight times.” Sort of fitting that the phrase uses “seven” and also finds its way into a blog post summarizing July, doesn’t it? July, for the most part, has been a good month. But with July being such a good month, I couldn’t help but question and ask why so many good things for me were happening around this time. Even now, I still keep repeating this question in my head:  

“Why now?” 

If I were to summarize everything going on in July for me, I think the best way to sum everything up is simply found in Job 1:21: 

“...The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

To begin somewhere, I haven’t been jogging due to the unbearable summer heat, accompanied with the busyness of life. I ended up losing my hours at the Ramen Shop as quickly as I got them back due to the changing landscape because of COVID-19 (which ironically were lost the day after I posted said blog from last month, and hours since then have been annoyingly sporadic.) Aside from the ramen shop, I tried to apply for another job at Biola, which only ended with me getting passed by them after being told that my skill set and qualifications weren’t the thing they were looking for. But even though I went through problems regarding finances and occupation, God’s still been providing for me in other ways; mainly through my friends. I was reunited with and able to spend time with a lot of my friends; many of them coming from different, yet important parts of my life going from the end of June and spread throughout July. However, I think that the fact that my friends were given to me at this specific time has been a reminder for me of sorts.

I won’t lie: it’s easy to forget about many people going forward in life, especially with those whom you thought didn’t play an especially big role. However, even if you forget about them, those people are some of the ones who initially helped lead you to meet some of the best people that would shape your life forever. Just as the Lord gives, he also takes away, as I stated earlier. Throughout this month, I had to hear about the unfortunate news that my former first grade teacher and my middle school principal both passed away. If it weren’t for my first grade teacher, I probably wouldn’t have met my childhood best friend Justin as soon as I did through her. Likewise, if it weren’t for my middle school principal, I wouldn’t have been able to foster such a close friendship and brotherhood in Christ with Justin; especially since that principal was the one who allowed us to start an after school Christian Club together. 

To be completely honest: these are not people I think about on a daily basis. Although I was initially more shocked than sad, it took their passings for me to really think about how much of a role they played in my life. I know I tend to focus a lot especially on the weight of friendship and the idea personal growth on this blog, but I never really properly recognized the people that helped lead to these things. Even though it seemed small, the foundation and support they put within my life has played a large role into who I am. The last thing I remember of my first grade teacher was very recent, where she commented a congratulatory note on a graduation picture my Mom had posted onto Facebook in May. Even though it didn’t mean much to me back then, I can say that I graduated before she passed away. The weight that comes from the fact that she, alongside a few of my other former teachers, were able to see me graduate from college, takes on a completely new and different meaning for me, and it means so much more to me that I was able to do it before she passed away. 

Though I had to take in losses and failures within my life in the shape of different things, it wasn’t an entirely bad month either. As I wrote earlier, I was able to see many friends from different parts of my life, arguably some of the most important parts of my life: my home church Evergreen, my childhood, Sigma, and Hope Rising. Although it was great seeing everyone, I kept questioning why they were all given back to me at this specific time. As fun as the multiple meet-ups and hangouts were, there was also hints of bittersweetness to go with it. Five years ago before I graduated from high school, a question I posed to myself during my senior year was this: 

“After everything’s said and done, what kind of world will be reflected in my eyes as I get to the top and finish?” 

Looking back at that question, I’ll admit that was a really overly dramatic and extremely extra way of wording things. But answering the question properly, as I reached the top and graduated from college, the world I see in front of me currently is a world where many of my friends are continuing to move forward with their lives towards bigger and better things. It’s a bit bittersweet and lonely as I see them off on their ways. Coming off the cuff of getting passed by for a job opportunity and not having consistent hours at my current part time job, and I couldn’t help but question, 

“When will it be my turn again?”  

I know I’m still living in what feels like an infinite present time where I can’t make plans for my future or move forward; it’s still extremely frustrating at the end of the day. Despite facing melancholy and bittersweet realities, everyone kept reminding me of one thing throughout this month: they kept reminding me that I never gave up hope, and no matter how hard or bad life became, I always remained strong and resilient. Even when I wanted to give up on myself, one of my friends laid it out for me really well:

“So much drama, graduation failures, romantic attempts, broken friendships, and a bunch of other things, and yet you haven’t given up hope yet. You still have hopes, dreams, aspirations, and so many other things that you’re trying to find, and the fact you’re trying to find it and don’t know means you haven’t given up hope yet. If you actually gave up hope, that would’ve meant not meeting up with us today, choosing not to work or find a job, or even finding a way to graduate.”

But even with this laid out for me plain as day, a conversation I had with one of my fellow teammates from my Missions Trip asked me this question:

“The next question you should ask yourself is this: Where does this hope come from?” 

As I rack my brain trying to answer this question, I know that my hope comes from Jesus primarily. But if I look at this and try to answer and analyze it with specifics in mind, I didn’t give up hope because I had something to prove to myself and the world, and was too stubborn to give up when things got hard. The thing I wanted to prove was that if I could have an insanely stubborn hope and prevail despite things in life becoming seemingly hopeless, I can help others by instilling and inspiring that same undying spirit to someone else who needs it and be a living testament to God’s goodness.

“Tsuzukeru koto ga daijisa

suki koso jouzu nare

Tsumazuita tte kamawanai

Nanakorobi yaoki style”

(“The most important thing is to keep going

be good at what you like

It's okay if you stumble somewhere

Your style is to keep getting up when you fall”)

「七転び八起き。」

“Nanakorobi yaoki.”

(Fall down seven times, stand up eight.)

I’ve been knocked down a bunch of times, and yet each time, I kept finding ways to continue getting back up. I’m extremely uncomfortable and frustrated with how this year’s turning out and where I am with life, but… I’ll figure it out eventually. Definitely not now, but at some point eventually. As Paul the Apostle writes in Romans 5:3-5,

“3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

Life is always going to continue changing. However, even in the midst of change, the friendships I was able to form from back then will continue to change and grow. These friendships and foundations are a testament to what my first grade teacher and middle school principal allowed us to cultivate and learn. We’re carrying on their legacy as we continue to live and grow; we’re moving forward with our lives as a testament dedicated to the lessons you taught us.

Thank you for everything and Rest in Peace, Mrs. Gomez and Mr. Schubert. 

Thank you for all your hard work and everything you’ve done in making me the person I am now.

[bartalks]

ECM SYNCHRONIKA REVIEW - BETTER THAN THE ROCKET AND PROFITEC!

The Synchronika is the top of the line dual boiler machine from ECM, and it's a winner in several respects. But before we explain why this machine is exceptional, let's talk about ECM's founder - Wolfgang Hauck, because when you buy an ECM, you're buying into the ethos of a pioneering and entrepreneurial founder.

ECM Synchronica - Summary Up Front

We love this machine on many levels. The design looks like a fusion of Italian passion with robust German pragmatism.  The price is half that of a La Marzocco Linea Mini, which we also like, but unlike the La Marzocco, you get flow control - which is a huge feature you pay through the nose for with a Slayer single head machine. The Synchronica is a no-compromise machine with absolutely top quality components, so you can feel comfortable that you will buy once and not feel the need to upgrade for many years. It has a dual boiler, a rotary pump - ensuring quiet operation, E61 Group, PID, optional flow control (at a cost) and a versatile display. The steam power is up to par with its rivals, and if the shiny chrome isn't too your liking, it's simple to customise. There is an ability to do line based preinfusion, although you may need to do some adjustments to get it working. A minor niggle is that I've heard some people mentioning their systems developing a little rattle. This appears to come from some loosening screws and is easily remedied by going around and doing a bit of tightening - perhaps using some plumbers tape to keep them in tightly. The only thing it seems to be missing is a mobile app for additional controls. Read below for our thoughts on the usefulness of apps as at the date this was written. The build quality from ECM is what makes us smile. To interact with the machine, hold their portafilter, touch the smooth rounded edges and admire the top-level hand welding. This is a hand made machine that gives you pleasure every time you use it. Replacement parts are available, and internally it has an elegant and considerate layout that makes it easily serviceable.  The ECM Synchronika is an espresso machine that you love to use every day, is beautiful to look at, not only for the design but the quality of the build, which is quickly noticeable.

Who are ECM and Where are they Manufactured?

Hauck has been in the business for over 25 years, and before he was manufacturing his own product line, he was importing and distributing machines from Gaggia, Cimbali, Pavoni and others. Later, in 1996 Hauck struck out on his own to make ECM in 1996. Later his son joined the firm and added additional technical expertise, and now runs the business as its CEO. The company says they combine Italian espresso culture with German engineering, something we'll come onto later, but you can see this immediately with the elegant but industrial style of their equipment. Now, their commercial espresso machines and grinders are manufactured in Germany at their own production centre. They produce their consumer-focused machines in Italy since 95% of the suppliers are located there already.

ECM Synchronika Price and Competition

You can buy a Synchronika for £2,280 from Doppio Coffee in the UK, an authorised reseller. In the US, they sell for $2,999 and you can pick it up from Whole Latte Love. That's not a bad price for a machine that is hand-built with such an extensive range of features. The Synchronika is most often compared to the Rocket R58 and the Profitec 700, both of which are essentially the same price, and are similar in some ways, but do not match the build quality of the ECM.

Specification and Features

This machine does not have any volumetric controls, but if you wanted that, you wouldn't be looking at this kind of system in any case. The volumetric system - which measures the output volume of shots has gained popularity in some professional machines where turnaround speed is a prime consideration.  But more recent research indicates that this is a flawed method because different beans have different densities, so weighing the shot is more important than measuring the volume. This is especially relevant for a home barista who may be changing their beans and roast levels frequently - darker roasts have less density than milder roasts, for example.

Design and Build Quality

We know that not everyone is a fan of the shiny chrome look, but for a small company, it's a safe option, and it will look great in any kitchen, and if you want something warmer, we've seen how it looks in beautiful wood panelling, which is simple enough to create, we expect any local woodworking shop will be able to route some new panels for you.

Simple switching between water sources are examples of ECM's attention to detail Ask any 'metal nerd', whether it be bicycle frames or deep-sea pipe maintenance, and they'll talk about weld quality. Now you can add espresso machines into that group. We mentioned that these are hand-built machines, and the weld quality is superb. Look into the little nooks and crannies of the ECM, and you'll not see ugly lumps of weld - everything butts up with minimum seams. These details on their own may not add up to much, but together, the effect on the eye is noticeable immediately and adds to the satisfaction you get from owning something that was hand-built by craftsmen. You can do almost any repair on this machine without special tools. You'll just need some common sized screwdrivers and an adjustable spanner.

Maintenance

The Synchronika was designed for easy access. I know the German designers are somewhere secretly smiling to themselves as we look inside the casing because the magic of the build quality is not just skin deep.  Accessing the machine takes the removal/loosening of 6 easily accessed hex screws using a 2.5mm Allen key. At that point, you can remove all the body panels, so you have easy access to all areas of the internals.

The frame is entirely powder-coated, which will ensure it maintains its good looks for years to come - and not a cheap option. ECM decided to use a single solenoid valve, which initially confused me because I know others of a similar class use two, but then doing some research, I learned that solenoid valves often are the source of failure in espresso machines. I guess ECM found a way to accomplish what they need to do with only a single valve, which should contribute to better reliability.

Interface and Lack of Mobile App

The PID ECM uses blends into the machine, which is a different direction than most other manufacturers, who make a 'feature' of the display. I prefer ECM's approach. Some people have reported they find super-bright displays annoying when they have an open plan kitchen and living room area. ECM did the right thing by being understated, and in fact, you can even switch it off.

The single PID serves several functions. Steam Boiler TemperatureBrew TemperatureShot TimerCustom alerts to clean machine ECM has not developed an app or the capability for an app in the Synchronika. I can see a time when using your phone as an interface is the only way to control your brew, but that for me, that will only happen when it provides flow control and profiling like the Decent Espresso machine. Apps, such as the one from La Marzocco, seem to be a solution looking for a problem at the moment. Remotely turning on your machine is one use case often used. But that can easily be achieved with a wifi activated plug like the one from TP-Link below. For everything else, like brew-head temperature, I'm much happier seeing that on a minimalist PID screen, rather than fumbling with my phone.

Steaming

The steam wand is cool-touch, which is a nice feature, although I couldn't tell if it created a condensation issue, as they sometimes do. The wand is reasonably mobile, making it easy to find the right position. I don't fiddle much with a steam wand when frothing milk, but I know this is a big thing with some people. The resellers will tell you it will steam 250ml in 10 seconds using the very impressive 2 bar pressure, but owners will tell you it takes longer in reality, perhaps 30 seconds is nearer the mark. A 4 hole steam tip might improve things and original ECM versions are available for about £10 ($12). Producing steam is controlled with a short stick. I prefer lever control over knobs. I find knobs take too long to turn on and off - they annoy me. levers, on the other hand, feel good to use, and the ECM has a nice feature which allows you to burst some steam with short push, or have it run continuously with a long pull on the lever. Call me childish, but I also like the fact that levers allow great wood customisation.

Portafilters

You get a mix of portafilters in the kit, and as you'd expect, ECM takes as much pride over the design of each basket as they do in the machine itself. The handles match the steam levers. They're angled so that you can rest them on a surface and the basket will be level, making tamping a breeze. ECM even sends you a tamper in the kit that isn't plastic. It puts other companies to shame, with their throwaway plastic items that look like a McDonald's toy. Finally, I'm sure it's no coincidence that the handle is weighty, which results in a nice balance. Everything about the ECM seems like an engineer thought it through, not an accountant.

The Boilers

It's a dual boiler machine, which means you independently control the temperature at the brew head, and for steaming milk. ECM uses 1400 watt heating elements and substantial 2-litre steam boilers that pushes out steam at 2bar. That's similar to what the commercial Victoria Arduino Eagle one manages and significantly higher than the 1.5 bar often found on other similar espresso machines. You'll steam 6oz of milk in around 10 seconds, and 12oz in 20 seconds. This is great for a busy barista but actually might work against you if you are still learning how to steam.  In this regard, the steam control levers can have less fidelity than their knob counterparts. So this is not a machine that you want to learn how to steam on.

Water 

ECM has designed the Synchronikia to be simple to switch between the reservoir and plumbed in use. Changing is as simple as attaching the pipe underneath the machine and flipping a switch. When using the internal tank, you'll be able to add 2.8 litres of water, which is about the right amount. You fill it from the top as you'd expect, and you should check to see if you have enough room to put it under a kitchen cabinet and still get a water jug above it to pour from the top.

Flow Control

The flow control mechanism is an optional purchase from ECM. They charge a rather exorbitant price (£179 around $220) which is very difficult to swallow after laying out over £2k on a machine already.

That said, the La Marzocco Linea Mini - at almost double the cost, has a paddle that mimics the flow control mechanism, but it's there for looks only, and in fact, only controls an electronic switch with a binary on/off function. The popularity of the device is not in question though, as they are regularly a back-ordered item. Flow control, as it sounds, is how much water is allowed through the valve. Sometimes it is incorrectly referred to as water pressure. It's true that pressure is influenced by the flow, so they're linked, but not the same thing. Controlling the amount of water that flows, and hence the pressure means that you can do things like run a long pre-infusion or mimic the behaviour of certain types of machines with their specific characteristics. For example, a lever machine might have full pressure at the outset of the shot, and reduce the flow as the shot nears completion. Different beans and roast techniques will react to different flavour profiles that can be generated by controlling the amount of water flow at different times throughout the pulling of your shot.

If you just want to do pre-infusion, then you may be satisified with using a technique ECM has built in to the standard model. The pre-infusion works by letting water into the group head without initiating the rotary pump. In theory this should work fine, but in practice there are reports of many users seeing no water come out until the pump is activated. This is probably due to incorrect adjustment of the cams inside the valve unit. There is a simple way to adjust these, but it seems odd that ECM don't test this before they're shipped.

E61 Group Head

I was surprised when I learned that the E61 Grouphead design goes back to 1961! The fact that it is still being used today must stand as a testament to its function. E61 group heads are not perfect, but they're simple to maintain and do a pretty good job with thermo-stability. The mechanics work on basic physics, with springs, washers, cams and needles.

When you turn the handle on the ECM, a cam (like an odd-shaped circular wheel moves inside the valve, pushing one needle up and another one down. This releases the water flow when the handle is turned one way and closes it when it is returned. On a well-made valve, you can expect the only things to need changing from time to time are the gaskets, and depending on your water hardness, they might need cleaning from limescale.

Comparing the ECM Synchronika with Profitec Pro 700 and the Rocket R58

The ECM is the most expensive machine among its peers, but only by a small margin, but it's common to ask what the differences are and whether the ECM is the right choice. We'll do a separate full review of the Rocket R58 and Profitec Pro 700's, but there is a short answer. The ECM has unrivalled build quality. They have gone to extreme lengths to ensure it runs silently, has the most elegant and simple internal layout, and uses understated design touches that you'll appreciate every time you look at it. The Profitec 700 is almost identical to the ECM, but some of the fit and finish is not quite up to the same standards. The Rocket uses different internals, such a smaller set of brass boilers instead of the stainless steel ones on the ECM. There's small things I don't personally like about the Rocket. The looks are cool for a while, but they wear off, the branding is a little too pronounced and seems to be on every element of the equipment, and it's not as nice to touch and use, for example the amount of turns I need to do on the steam knobs vs the ECM where I can slap the stick down at any angle and it immediately comes on. Buy the ECM if you want all the features and the best build quality.Buy the Profitec Pro 700 if you want the same functionality of the ECM but are willing to sacrifice a small amount of final build quality for a slightly lower price.Buy the Rocket if you want to make a design statement and don't care about having an always-available PID. Read the full article

[gygax-blog]

Callout post: Kenneth David Beasley or “Kenichi Toriyama”

Tumblr user morelikeodindank (Previous URLs: gygax, magitekskald) https://www.linkedin.com/in/ken-beasley-08437a4b/ Holds administrative positions within Nexus Gaming Alliance and A&G Con [Admin Note: This was typed mostly up by another party involved. Here and there, I will add my side of things, as some of his lies were specially crafted to suit one person or small group of people. All of my comments will be formatted like this one.]

If you take nothing else away from this, please remember the following: WHEN DEALING PROFESSIONALLY WITH KENNETH DAVID BEASLEY, GET EVERYTHING IN WRITING, SIGNED AND NOTARIZED BEFORE DOING ANYTHING ELSE. He will not pay his debts, and his word is essentially worthless.

Ken lived with my wife and I for a little over a year. He did not pay his share of the bills at all for the first 7 months, and for the following 7 months he underpaid. When he moved out, he skipped out on the last months’ rent entirely. On several occasions he offered us payment in exchange for transport several hours away - a payment that was never received. Between rent he didn’t pay, money borrowed, furniture he took with him when he moved, and a small collection of miscellaneous debts, he owed us well over $16,000.00 when he left.

When he moved in, we had a verbal contract that he would pay these things. During the process of accruing these debts, he made frequent promises to pay these things. When he left, he made a point to ask my wife to total his debts so he could continue to pay them off slowly.

The above is one of the last conversations between us - my wife was UNDERSTANDABLY nervous that once Ken got into his new apartment, he would immediately blow us off. (Sidenote, I really ought to listen to my wife more often.) Ken did not, in fact, pay us the $900.00 mentioned in this message - his portion of rent and utilities for the month of September - nor sign any paperwork pertaining to his debts to us.

I’ve waited over a year to write this post, and I’m still a little reluctant to do it. I want to make it very clear that my intent in writing this is not vengeance, I’m not doing this to publicly shame him or get some sort of revenge for the shit he’s put me through. This is purely so that other people who may be dealing with him in the future can have a certain measure of warning about the kind of person they’re dealing with and what they can expect. I’m writing the post that I needed to have read when I met him - the stuff I wish I had known. For brevity, I’m putting the rest of it under a cut:

First and foremost, Ken is a chronic liar. Who he is, what he has done, who he knows and where he has lived all vary each time he tells a story about his past. I’m going to document what he has told me and what I have found out. SOME OF THIS IS BOUND TO BE TRUE - a broken clock is still correct twice a day, and I am certain at least some of the ‘facts’ about himself he has told me are true - but none of it adds up to a whole picture.

False past - Where he went to highschool and where he grew up seem to change with the breeze. He has told me he went to highschool at no less than six different highschools, both in the US and in Japan. I’m going to relate some stories he has told us that seem to have passable internal consistency, but contradict each other.

Story: He grew up in Japan, at the center of a cult. He was told he was some sort of angel of the apocalypse, and a large group of people worshipped him, and he claims he’s still dealing with the emotional ramifications of this. He claims his uncle is Akira Toriyama, and speaks often about his frustration with his uncle only wanting to talk about his work - claims he is sick of DBZ because “Goku stole his childhood”. Apparently his father, a Japanese man, committed suicide, and he feels guilt about this.

Story: He grew up in the “Ghetto”, somewhere either in Ohio or in California, depending on the telling. He grew up with a black stepfather in a black community. His mother worked long hours and had a revolving set of boyfriends who were in and out (one of whom he claims sexually abused him as a child), and Ken claims he was the primary caregiver of his three younger sisters from age eight onward. He also claims he had a large “wolfpack” of very loyal friends who would kill for him, and claims he had a lot of legal trouble as a kid/young adult because he acted as a vigilante for his community. Academically gifted, went to many special-format educational facilities. Claims to have moved around a lot, but also claims to have many loyal/local friends who go back years and years.

Story: His mother was 14 when she had him, and was in such dire straights financially that she decided to volunteer for government experimentation on her unborn child for the money. Ken was genetically modified in-utero with animal DNA, which caused a lot of the medical issues he claims to experience - (more on that later.) Was diagnosed with ALS and/or testicular cancer as a child, survived the cancer. Experienced a traumatic brain injury as an adult, has retrograde amnesia. Was trained as a military operative with a large group of other children who were experimented on - claims to be one of the only survivors from this project.

[Admin Note: His step father is a black man, but I find it interesting that he is only ever brought up when Ken is using him as an excuse to spout of racial slurs. His mother is a very kind woman, but when you ask her about the things that Ken has told you, she gets confused because, according to Ken, she has an illness that is taking her memory away from her. As someone who has serious issues with memory, she seemed fine.]

False identities - Ken will frequently “Sock-Puppet” and make fake accounts on social media. Each account will have a purpose, something he gets from it, and will only show activity while he himself is online. They also show a theme of sexually praising Ken. I don’t want to link to the accounts in question in case one or two of them are actually real people, but here are some of the personas we’re fairly sure he’s taken on:

FB account - a close personal friend of his who has no activity on his feed beyond occasionally commenting on Ken’s posts or events. Longtime old friend of Ken, desperately wants to fuck him. Messages my wife, most conversations revolve around praising Ken’s attractiveness or sexual prowess, or attempting to peer-pressure or wingman my wife into having sex with him.

Multiple Gmail accounts - Big-name celebrities. Ken claims to have multiple big name celebrity friends from his convention connections. He’ll claim he’s been telling them about how cool you are and they want to say hi to you. Most conversations these accounts want to hold revolve around Ken - whether it’s talking about how he’s a good person, praising you for the positive things you do for him, or just these accounts talking about how much they really, really love Ken and are glad good things are happening for him. Sometimes these accounts will ask for nudes. All personal information is easily google-able.

Tumblr account - (now deactivated,) Abusive ex girlfriend. Ken claims to have an exceptionally abusive ex girlfriend, who sprang into existence shortly after my wife opened up about her own personal abuse experience. This account existed solely to send inflammatory, triggering messages to Ken, lazer-focused on whatever he was feeling insecure about. This account also attacked my wife, and told her that all of the “great sex” she’s having with Ken is because she taught him how to be good at sex first.

[Admin Note: I was told that she had committed suicide. She got better, though! (According to Ken, it was all due to some he-said-she-said.)]

Created a fake gmail account for an established costume designer, offered a cheap ‘friends’ discount for a costume I wanted very badly - CONVENIENTLY, this person’s actual work paypal wasn’t functioning and he had me send the money to an ‘alternate’ paypal account - I have a feeling I just funneled $300 to some shitty friend of his. Never received the costume.

[Admin Note: There were a few times during the time I knew him that he would have money. Which was strange because he didn’t have a paying job at the time and/or his money was supposed to be going towards bills. This type of scheming would explain where he was getting cash.]

Sexual coercion

Ken identifies as asexual - HOWEVER, he also claims that he has some sort of spiritual need for sex. He legitimately claims that he actually HAS to have sex a certain amount or he will get very sick. He uses his claimed spiritual need for sex along with the multiple sock puppet accounts to pressure people into having sex with him.

I don’t PARTICULARLY want to go into details, but he has also “invited himself in” to sex before. You know how some people just… invite themselves along to parties? He does that with sex.

Race - I want to preface this bit by saying I AM WHITE, and recognize that there is a certain amount of overstepping my bounds by bringing some of this up. HOWEVER, this is important information.

Ken doesn’t believe cultural appropriation exists at all, and actively encourages those around him to appropriate cultures they don’t have rights to.

For all intents and purposes, Ken passes as white, and has never once relayed an experience where he personally experienced racism or even frustration at erasure of his heritage.

Ken claims to be biracial - half japanese on his late father’s side, but sometimes it’s his mother’s side, depending on the day - and claims he is bilingual, frequently obviously faking ‘forgetting’ English and ‘slipping into’ Japanese. My wife, who actually has a passable understanding of Japanese, says his Japanese is BAD - poor accent, he can’t speak it and can’t understand or respond appropriately.

Ken claims to have been ‘spiritually adopted’ by ‘the native americans’ - to my knowledge he never claimed a specific tribe. He says he was given a ‘native name’ or something akin to it, “Stormtalker” or “stormbringer” or something along those lines. He uses this as grounds to speak out AGAINST the concept of cultural appropriation of native spirituality and culture.

Ken claims he was raised in a black neighborhood, and on occasion claims he has some african-american relative. He uses this as an excuse to use the N word in everyday speech, and frequently hands out “permission” to nonblack friends to use the N word as well.

Gender Identity + sexuality - Preface to this, I AM TRANSGENDER. I do not make these claims lightly.

Ken publicly identifies as Agender. He’s AMAB, uses he/him pronouns, and has no desire nor plans to physically transition in any way. He does not wear any clothing that does not strictly align to cis-masculine standards. THIS IS A PERFECTLY FINE WAY TO IDENTIFY, however, in confidence among other Nonbinary/Trans identified individuals, he readily professes that he only IDs as Agender as a way to get around his male privilege - both to relieve himself of the feelings of guilt that his male privilege gives him, and as a ‘gotcha’ to SJWs who may try to call him out on this. He is viscerally upset any time male privilege is brought up in any fashion, and needs frequent placation that we’re not talking about him specifically whenever anyone around him discusses dissatisfaction with privileged men. He also frequently expects his fellow trans people to agree with him or feel the same about their gender identities - IE he wants reassurances that we too are ID-ing as Trans/Nonbinary entirely to shirk social responsibility for what cis binary people do as a group.

Ken identifies as asexual in a way that seems focused on convincing those around him that he does not particularly care for or want sex, however he claims he has a very specific spiritual need for sex, and frequently coerces people into sex with him using this and other methods listed above. He also brags often about his sexual prowess and sexual history - claiming to have sexually satisfied numerous big name celebrities.

He claims to be a victim of rape or CSA, but only ever seems to bring this up as a method of redirecting attention back to himself when someone ELSE is speaking about their own sexual assault history. Myself and my wife - both of us sexual assault survivors - find the way he speaks about his supposed assault to be HIGHLY SUSPECT, as he is particularly insensitive to others’ traumas, and participates in sexual coercion and rape culture.

Education/Military history

Ken claims to have received military training, but have been pulled from service shortly before being deployed. He claims to be eligible for VA benefits and other veteran specific programs, and also claims that most of his medical record is “classified”, (see below.)

Claims to have spent some nebulous unspecified portion of his childhood in an active military zone, complete with comically faked “PTSD trigger responses” to airplanes flying overhead. This was clearly a performance, and his trigger was forgotten and never brought up again after that, despite living relatively near an airport.

Claims he was trained in military “enhanced interrogation” techniques, and then proceeds to spout a bunch of hollywood BS about torture techniques to show off what he knows. He’s grumpy with the Obama administration for ‘making his job illegal’.

Claims to have a sizeable academic record, be academically gifted, possibly have entered grad school, and this would be unremarkable except that it conflicts with so many of his spur of the moment “I’ve been everywhere/done everything cool!” stories he likes to tell.

Medical records / Disability - I do not make these accusations lightly. I am significantly disabled myself, and accusations of faking disability USUALLY do nothing good - however these specific instances come with manipulations - shit he will try to convince you to do to accommodate him that are excessive and unnecessary. Most of them are demonstrably false as well.

Claims to have ALS despite showing zero symptoms, and in fact does not seem particularly versed on what the symptoms even ARE - claims he was diagnosed via genetic testing about ten years before science identified what genes are associated with ALS - uses his ALS ‘diagnosis’ to get out of most physical labor and chores. Claims his ALS is what makes him ‘bad at videogames’ now, as he was once supposedly a ranked pro-gamer. However, I’ve gamed with him - his reflexes aren’t the problem, he simply makes poor decisions.

Claims to be colorblind - never consistent on which kind of colorblindness he experiences, perfectly capable of playing video games that rely on color identification for a gameplay mechanic.

Claims to have an unspecified ‘skin disease’ that conveniently makes him smell of urine - says he ‘sweats blood’, explains patchy skin color as vitiligo. In truth, he simply does not bathe frequently and does not use soap when he bathes. (He also does not wash his clothes, and substitutes air-effects febreze for both baths and clean clothes.)

PTSD - with inconsistent and easily forgotten triggers, most of which seemed to revolve around an aversion to being held responsible for his own actions. Only seemed comfortable discussing his traumas in an effort to belittle any traumas you’ve experienced - plays ‘trauma olympics’ - anything you’ve experienced he’s suddenly experienced something ten times worse. It really feels more like a ploy to request emotional support and not feel required to give emotional support in return, since he’s had it worse and you aren’t allowed to be the center stage because of it.

Extensive, inconsistent allergies - he’s allergic to the food he doesn’t want to eat, (never mind if said allergen is present in something he DOES want to eat later,) he’s allergic to ‘cut grass’ during mowing season, he’s allergic to quartz, silver, (uncooked) ketchup, mayonnaise, mustard but NOT bbq sauce, and whatever else is convenient for him to be allergic to. These allergies only ever exist when he is trying to avoid something he independently does not want, and never impede him otherwise.

Claims to be a cancer survivor and have a testicular implant, only having one biological testicle - claims he is infertile to avoid most forms of birth control. Claims he has a testicular implant that is simultaneously blue, glittery, and glow in the dark - claims the doctors let him pick out his cool-looking testicle from a box before the surgery, has no scar and never speaks about the treatments for his supposed cancer nor the medical bill.

Unnamed ‘blood disease’ that causes all of the blood in his body to die. Needs to vanish for a day or so every three months to get all of the blood drained from his body and replaced with fresh blood, because it’s all coagulating in his veins. Never even seems to have needle marks afterwards.

Claims to qualify for social security disability money - somewhere around $140,000 of “back-pay” money, that’ll come in any day now he swears. Uses this to avoid getting a job or paying his part of the bills - makes promises to use the money to buy your house for you or pay off car/medical bills. This magical payday is of course eternally delayed, but he swears it is coming soon, and that getting a job might negatively impact what he stands to receive.

Fake Deaths

Ken is perpetually and dramatically in mourning for someone or another, and uses it to demand emotional support and attention at all times. Every national tragedy that strikes - he knew someone involved, who just conveniently doesn’t show up on the victim’s list. (Claimed a good friend of his was a victim of the Pulse shooting, for example.) Some random old woman dies in New Orleans and he claims she practically raised him, despite never having mentioned living in New Orleans prior. Some minor celebrity dies and he idolized them and is personally devastated by their loss. Sometimes it’s a random army buddy. If someone isn’t freshly dead, he claims it’s the anniversary of someone dying.

He’s very dramatic and disrespectful about this - Ken claims his very presence brings terrible things into people’s lives, and demands constant reassurance otherwise.

Secretive binge eating

Normally, I wouldn’t air out someone’s personal demons like this, but if you happen to have an eating disorder yourself and you intend to live with him for any period of time, this is VITAL INFORMATION. Ken binge-eats a truly remarkable amount of food. Alone, he accounts for about a $700 a month food bill. If it’s not hidden or locked away, he will mass consume everything in the house - and he will lie to your face about it, blame other roommates, start fights, and when he is caught he will dramatically offer to let you destroy his things in vengeance - which is SUPER INSULTING because I am not a violent person at all? I have a feeling the over the top reaction to being caught was a way to divert attention away from what he did wrong and instead gain positive attention as we try to reassure him we’re not going to hurt him for overeating.

Theft - Ken has stolen or “borrowed without permission” the following:

My wife’s Nintendo DS - found in his room, he was never given permission to use it.

A folio book of my entire DS/3DS game collection - missing and never recovered

My nintendo 3ds

My laptop - ‘borrowed’ it without waiting for me to clear the data, did not return it when he moved out, refused to pay for it.

Fallout 4 strategy guide

Ken had a seemingly endless supply of Gamestop store credit, and we highly suspect he was getting it by pawning off some of our old/less played games.

Gaslighting

My wife and I both have some minor memory issues pertaining to our collective trauma history. Mentioning this around Ken was a mistake - he used this knowledge to gaslight us at every turn. He would lie to each of us individually about what the other one was saying or doing, causing numerous petty arguments over things that were ultimately found out to be his doing. He would blame the missing food or missing video games on us, and would frequently bring up our terrible memories as to why things that were happening didn’t make sense. Since he has left our lives, the world now seems to operate with standard logical physics. Things stay where we left them.

Animal abuse and neglect

While living with us, Ken was responsible for multiple animal husbandry chores - feeding, cleaning litter boxes, etc. Not once in our care did he actually do these chores - this involved starving our elderly cat, layering fresh litter over an already filthy catbox and claiming it was clean, failing to provide water for animals on his side of the house, and feeding/handling our reptiles without permission.

One of his friends who I believe he is now living with also seriously harassed our animals when he visited, going so far as to make concerning comments about the animal’s consent to be held not mattering to him. Ken seemed to take no issue to this and actively defended him.

Privacy - Ken did not and does not have respect for my or my wife’s privacy

On multiple occasions Ken brought uninvited and unannounced guests into the house without telling us anyone new was here. This involved multiple friends getting a view of myself or my wife without clothes.

I saw Ken’s dick so many times. He did not wear boxers that covered himself and I saw things I did not wish to see.

Frequently disclosed personal business of ours to coworkers even when we had EXPLICITLY asked him not to do so - also modified this information to make himself appear good.

Petty thing - bad gift giver

This is the pettiest fucking shit, and the single place where I will deviate from my express goal of this post, but considering literally everything I have listed above, I believe I am allowed one (1) petty stupid thing. He’s a shitty gift giver. He signs his name on the card of gifts other people give, (claims it’s from him AND the actual gift giver, b/c he ‘helped with the idea’), and never once actually bought a gift for either myself nor my wife - despite the fact that we went above and beyond to get him gifts while he was with us, and despite the fact that he DID have income. When he does give gifts, they’re regifted throwaway chachkies with some fake-deep meaning behind them. He’ll give you a used notebook or some thriftstore ‘home sweet home’ thing and make up a story about it. Once he went to a con and generously brought me all the free paperwork he got from the sony and nintendo booths. He gives gifts more to receive praise than to actually do a nice thing for you, and I think that’s telling about a person.

[Admin Note: This is most definitely one of his former urls. I snagged it a while back while I was feeling petty and it seemed the most appropriate to use for this purpose. None of this has anything to do with Gygax, Gary or others.]