#it's more freedom and safety which allow her to put up with great responsibility her title demands
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dairine-bonnet · 1 month ago
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Random thoughts on Lynette von Valancius (and possible relationship between RT and Heinrix)
I think when it comes to Heinrix, the RT's main intention may be to give him some grey hair and, eventually, drive him completely crazy. Probably, even to make his presence on the board hardly bearable, yet not confronting him directly. Why so? Because after Lynette spent years under the watchful eye of the Inquisition for some reason, without any real chance to make her rules, becoming RT is like a breath of fresh air for her. This title came out of the blue, but she intends to take as much advantage of that as possible.
Although teasing an interrogator and making his life less comfortable aren't the most signicant benefits, they're definitely enjoyable ones! She slowly gets softer with him. Still, he doesn't 'pass her trust check' until Commorragh. Shame, but even after that she has a few doubts about his true intentions nearly till the end of the game.
P.S. What's more, at first, subconsciously, Lynette'd like him to lose his mind, get back to Calcazar in such a condition, and corrupt the entire Inquisition there... (dark side points gained!)
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hastyprovocateur · 1 year ago
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I think it's going to be an uphill hike with Akemi continuing to distrust Mizu because she considers her a "man" just like any other. Someone who didn't believe in her and gave up on her. Or rather chose himself or his beliefs over considering her needs. Taigen chose his honour, Daichi his schemes for power, Seki his oldworld ideals and Mizu chose her revenge over Akemi's life. Ep 8 showed us Mizu, Taigen, Seki amending their mistakes with Mizu saving Akemi, Seki giving her her freedom and Taigen wishing to be with her but it's natural that Akemi doesn't trust any of those promises anymore and is bent on forging her own path where she can protect herself instead of relying on men to do the same.
On the flipside, Akemi doesn't really know Mizu's internal struggle and why she genuinely felt that having Akemi along on her path of revenge would be detrimental to her safety. Akemi has no idea how important she is to Mizu, she doesn't even recall seeing her on the bridge when it is one of the most key moments that Mizu clings to. The moment her mind rehashed when she passed out from the blast in Fowler's castle. Or the fact that Mizu forged her knife into her sword because she's one of the "impurities" that strengthened her. It is true that without having abandoned Akemi, Mizu wouldn't have lost Ringo's support and realised that she needs to be a better master and samurai which is why she saved Taigen in Fowler's castle and went back to Ringo instead of ox-heading her revenge without caring about anyone.
I agree it is still very much about her pursuing revenge when the ideal would be to give up and allow herself to move on, love and be loved. But ofc it has to be a process on Mizu's end. I don't think Mizu should strongly commit to anyone until she makes them the most important part of her life instead of revenge.
NOW FOR THE SPECULATION PART, I feel it would be best to have the ridge between Mizu and Akemi be built on that fact that Akemi thinks Mizu is a man. Hence the strong continuation of Akemi's "We're not friends" and the cold dismissive shoulder and a general air of "do not engage with me because I don't want to expect love, mercy or good from you again." There has to be a part in the season where Mizu comes back to Japan to avert another crisis (because wherever there's a Mizu, there's a crisis) and she is compelled to save Akemi again and this time, they do get to spend some time together.
Unless Mizu hasn't encountered Taigen first, I think she'd be taken aback that Akemi chose against running away with Taigen. She'd respect that Akemi chose to stay and venture down a path of greatness outside of pursuing men while also being surprised at how much she has changed compared to her simple naivety in season 1. Perhaps feeling a bit guilty too, since Mizu put Akemi on that path initially. I do not doubt that Akemi is inherently grateful to Mizu for saving her repeatedly but is guarded in her expectations, fully expecting that Mizu would give her up again at any moment or abandon her in the face of danger. So she stays aloof. She doesn't hope to extend friendship, love or camaraderie. Just extending short, cold, essential exchanges.
But Mizu has no intentions of abandoning her this time. After London, I believe Mizu would've lost a lot of her rage and heartlessness with atleast some closure in terms of who her father/mother is or killing atleast some men responsible for putting her in her situation. She has room to be kinder... more emotionally available... trying to initiate more conversation. At some point the effort does get to Akemi but she fights the urge to feel entirely safe in Mizu's refuge. I CAN IMAGINE A COUPLE THINGS OK.
1) Whenever Mizu has to relieve herself or bathe, she just... disappears and Akemi is like... why do you have to go to the middle of nowhere to do your business?
2) That or they get into an encounter with retainers and Mizu conceals Akemi in a corner somewhere midfight and Akemi's pressed up close enough to feel the binding over Mizu's chest
3) Akemi might just put 2 and 2 together and realise that someone who says things like "Women in our world don't have a single good option" or "It's some essential part of the soul that calls men to brothels when it's just naked flattery. Do men usually fall for this?" (Or other stuff Mizu definitively states with specific insight into women in the future seasons) is... probably not a man lol.
4) This is more cliche but Akemi might actually develop some feelings and try to initiate physical intimacy only for Mizu to pull back roughly and excuse herself. Akemi is confrontational so she would directly ask Mizu what happened and it could lead to a heated confession. I feel like Mizu would be averse to the idea initially. Discouraging it.
Women being together wasn't natural for the time period so it's likely that Mizu would be apprehensive about accidentally "leading" Akemi on to fall for someone she thinks is a man. She'd expect Akemi to be disgusted and to see the revelation as a definite end to any possibilities between them but I can imagine Akemi being only pleasantly surprised and part intrigued. It would be consistent with the writing so far where Mizu expects a disproportionately harsh reaction to her "revealing" her true self but I want to imagine Akemi would welcome it since she's much more open minded and has never subscribed to gender stereotypes since day one (unlike Mikio or other men in the show).
Plus, I can see her being appreciative of the fact that two women as lover excludes all patriarchal pressures of "women as property" or "women as inferior" or being "ladylike" or being "wombs for sons."
How do you guys think Akemi and Mizu reconcile and then eventually find out that Mizu is a girl?
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spookybreadstick · 4 years ago
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Here is something soft & sweet, as a humble apology for my prolonged absence... hope you all like it! <3 <3 <3
💞 Happiest Memories of the Pastas 💞
🍬 LJ’s happiest memory is playing with Isaac, once upon a time, before everything went south. LJ has sort of forgotten this memory, it was so long ago after all and it's a bit painful to look back on, but he does remember how it made him feel. Which is, very good and full of purpose. After all, this was what he was intended for. To be a friend to children, specifically Isaac.
🤍 EJ doesn't have very many happy memories. He supposes that his happiest memory was when he patched Toby up after a mission where he got hurt. Toby's a very chipper patient (he can't feel pain after all, and it wasn't a terrible injury either, so he was in a good mood) and he chatted away while EJ fixed him up. After EJ announced that Toby was all set to go, Toby had said, "Thanks, EJ! You're the best!" before he left the little 'infirmary.' It isn't much, but it made EJ feel very happy. He feels pretty lousy most days, about what he is, what he does, how he has to hurt people, but actually helping somebody was a nice change of pace. It made him feel more connected to his old self, and it makes him feel actually human. It's also just nice to feel appreciated as well, and it really just made EJ's day (Toby has no idea how much what he said meant to EJ).
🎮 BEN's happiest memory comes from a night he spent with Jeff, having a sleepover. In life, BEN didn't have any friends, much less any that would invite him to sleep over or even want to sleep over at his house. Here though, Jeff had become a great friend of his very quickly (and shortly after this incident, they truly became best friends). One day, they had a great time hanging out with each other and gaming. Jeff always said the funniest things to make BEN laugh, and he even laughed at BEN's jokes too! All was going great, although it was late at night by now. BEN had thought that Jeff would head back to his room, but instead he casually asked if he could just crash in BEN's room. BEN tried not to let it show, lest he look stupid, but he was ecstatic! He now had a great friend, who he just had a great time with, who actually wanted to continue hanging out and actually sleep over in the same room! He couldn't believe his luck, and he of course quickly agreed to this plan. That night, the two boys stayed up late, talking, laughing, and gaming. It was the night that really cemented the start of their best friendship.
🔪 Jeff's happiest memory comes from a time where he and Liu were very little. A time before the differences between the two brothers became more apparent, a time before their parents started to treat them differently, a time before the family fell into a cycle of toxicity, abuse, and neglect. A time before Jeff was subjected to the bullying and mistreatment that shaped him into who he is today. This was a time when Jeff was still just a little boy, wide eyed and cautiously optimistic about the world. It was right after his fifth birthday, and during an absolutely gorgeous day. It was a day that the two brothers played outside until the sun went down, and their mother called them in for dinner (featuring a favorite dish of theirs). They laughed and rough-housed and played for hours on end together, just the two of them in their own little world of brotherly love. In fact, right before their mother called them inside, the two had been laying on the grass together, side by side on their backs, when Liu had simply sighed happily and said that he was glad to have Jeff as his older brother. That had made little-Jeff feel incredibly good about himself, and he had responded that, while Liu was lucky to have Jeff as an older brother (oh, Jeff, he never did change, did he?), Jeff was glad that Liu was his little brother, too. It was a happy day for both boys, indeed.
🧣 Liu's happiest memory comes from a time where he and Jeff were young, probably about eight and seven, and their parents had left them alone for a whole weekend for the first time. He remembered feeling scared, because what if a burglar broke in the house? But Jeff had reassured him that nothing was going to happen to him, not while he was around to protect him. He even brought out a baseball bat to ensure Liu's safety, and that did make him feel better, knowing that he had a protective older brother in the house with him. That first night, they ordered pizza (feeling very grown-up) and watched movies late into the night. Liu remembers how excited he felt when Jeff told him not to worry about a bedtime, because they were the grown-ups in the house now, and grown-ups don't have bedtimes. The rest of the weekend passed by in a similarly fun fashion, and Liu looks back on this first weekend of freedom and fun with great fondness. Sully does not have any happy memories to speak of, sadly.
🖤 Jane's happiest memory is from one night that she won an award at her school, for her excellent grades, and her parents were so incredibly proud of her. Jane had felt quite accomplished, and her mother had even took her out shopping for a new dress for the occasion (she would have to walk across a stage to accept her academic award). After she received her award, the girl that she had a crush on at the time came up to her to congratulate her on the award, and to compliment her on her looks. Jane's parents then took lots of pictures with their daughter, took her out for a nice dinner, and kept telling her how proud they were of her. This was shortly after she came out to them as a lesbian as well, and it made her feel all the more validated that her parents not only accepted her for who she was, but also still loved her just the same and were very proud of her for her achievements.
⏰ Clockwork, sadly, does not have very many happy memories. In fact, the only happy memory that she has that really sticks out to her is the one week she spent in foster care, before being returned to her birth parents to suffer more abuse. That week she spent out of that house of abuse, and in the caring hands of her foster parents, was the best time she had in her whole childhood and probably whole life at this point.
💄Nina's happiest memory comes from a daddy-daughter dance that she attended with her father once. She doesn't remember too much about it honestly, it's more of just a happy, nostalgic feeling for her. She remembers getting dressed up happily in her best dress, and having a great time with her father. She especially liked that she could fit in with the other girls too, despite not having a mother (she often felt left out of a lot of mother-daughter activities, but here was an activity made exclusively for her and her father!) She remembers feeling very grown-up, as her father had allowed her to put on a bit of makeup at the age of around nine or ten, and she was also allowed to wear her mother's prized pearl necklace for the night, which made her feel connected to her mother and also like a bit of a movie star.
🧵Happy memories are not in his vocabulary, I'm afraid.
🎨 Helen's happiest memory comes from every time he's ever spent "in the zone" while painting, drawing, or otherwise creating art. It's not a one-time thing, it's an accumulation of happiness for him.
🎭 Tim's happiest memory comes from a night that he and Brian got high off of some stolen weed. They snuck out onto the roof of the mansion, and talked late into the night. He forgot about all his responsibilities and burdens for a night, and he felt like he could just truly be.
❓ Brian's happiest memory was a nice afternoon that he spent with Masky & Toby. It was nothing special, just a simple day of fishing and having a picnic lunch. He felt very connected to his two proxy partners, and it filled him with joy to see Tim so relaxed and Toby having some fun.
🪓 Toby's happiest memory was one of the last days he spent with Lyra. He doesn't remember too much of it, a lot of his trauma surrounding Lyra and her death has made him block it out, so it's more of a happy feeling than anything else. It does bring him comfort during hard times, and from what he does remember of it, it was a great day that he spent with his sister and it's precious to him now.
🧸 Sally's happiest memory was the day that Slender asked her if she'd like to be adopted by him. The two had spent a wonderful day together, and it was the cherry on top for him to ask her gently if she'd like to become his officially adopted daughter through a ceremony.
🌲 Slender's happiest memory was the day he decided to 'officially' adopt Sally as his, meaning that they performed a little ceremony at the mansion that "crowned" Slender as "the King of the Mansion"/Sally's father and "crowned" Sally as "the Princess of the Mansion" and Slender's daughter
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seesgood · 4 years ago
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can we very gently talk about call out posts / culture really quick?  not in a judgmental way, but in like a: i just want to pose a thought and explain why i’m never going to buy into it and why i wish it would become less of a trend instead of more of one? and i’ll add the  disclaimer  here: i totally get not wanting certain people around you for various reasons, that is all your prerogative. that’s your comfort level. but in emphasizing “your blog should be a safe space” we’re kind’ve losing sight of the fact that the rpc should also be a safe space, and as much as your comfort and safety matter, so do other people’s. and not just the person who hurt you, but the third parties and other mutuals and 99.9% of people who are not at all involved in any way in whatever happened. so, anyway here goes, read it or don’t, we all have different opinions or reasons, i just want to be heard:
people are allowed to change.  think back to who you were last year. two years ago. think about the stuff you said when you were seventeen, or twenty-one, or hell whatever age you were. current-you would probably cringe at the kind of stuff past-you had to say. because you grew. you learned. you had life experiences. in hindsight you have the freedom to be like “oof yeah that was not the best version of myself right there damn i don’t want to be like that again.” the growing trend of ‘here’s a 10+ page google doc complete with out of context screenshots that sometimes date back to like 2017 or earlier’ makes this kind of change impossible. because right there, you’ve just frozen a person in time, probably not at their best, removed any and all amounts of context, and put it on the internet and let other people judge it for themselves. 
so that leads into another point that i want to just kinda present to the community at large: the act of documenting behaviors and storing them for months / years at a time, in itself creates a super unsafe environment, not just for you, your friends, the people who have hurt you --- but also for anyone else that isn’t at all involved in whatever happened. like, for example, i like to think that i’m a pretty nice person. i actively try to be a nice person. am i sometimes not having the best day? have people definitely caught me in bad moments? oh hell yeah. but am i, as someone who tries really hard to be nice and welcoming, constantly thinking through every message i send to someone knowing that a) i could have a reputation that makes them read into context that isn’t there and that could contribute to them misinterpreting words i meant in a different way, b) very aware that every post i make, ask i send, message i send can at any moment be screenshotted and posted and taken out of context and either serve as someone’s only opinion of me or pile on to someone’s existing opinion of me? yeah. so in my experience, and based on people i’ve talked to, we now have this thing where you can be surface-friends wtih a lot of people, but if you want to survive in the tumblr rpc you should really only have 2-3 people that you really trust that you can actually talk about shit with. 
and lately i’ve been seeing a resurgence of posts on my dash about like “bring back xyz in the rpc” or “the reason the rpc is like this is because of xyz” and i both agree and disagree with a lot of this, but primarily i think the reason the rpc is Off lately is because everyone and their cousin has a DNI, which is --- again --- your decision and i understand and respect that, but while you know the context of every name on that DNI, other people don’t. and to be honest: other people don’t really care and honestly maybe they shouldn’t care. --- and don’t get me wrong, your friends should care if someone has hurt you. that’s important. but joe billy bob who just wants to write their character with yours is going to read through your rules, they’re going to see “do not interact with me if you follow with or interact with these people you’ve never heard of and if you want me to tell you why just message me” (which no one is ever going to do, i’m sorry to say). and say, joe billy bob also followed that other person because they were like ‘omg this blog looks cool’ --- now joe billy bob, who just wants to write cool plots, is suddenly the middle-man in some type of drama that they do not understand, and maybe they’re able to remove themselves from the situation, but even then it’s still in the back of your mind. 
this is getting long. it’ll be longer, but let’s take a brief break for me to remind you that in some cases, it’s definitely good to give your mutuals and friends a heads up when someone has done something really, really bad. like, remember x amount of years ago when some dude was like ‘i’m gonna make up a new person and say they died by suicide as a social experiment’ or ‘hey this person actively tries to force very triggering plots about abuse / rape / incest onto people and has been doing so for years and does not seem to change their ways no matter how many people try to educate them’ that’s shit people should probably know about. and it’s also okay ( in my opinion ) for your friends to be able to message you like ‘hey i saw you’re writing with x and i just wanted to let you know i had this experience with them’ if that’s something they feel comfortable doing. and if they are comfortable with you still having the autonomy to make your own decision regarding the person. 
i’ll be honest, for a second: i’ve been part of friendships and groups that have turned really toxic for one reason or another. a handful of times. there are probably people out there that are like “yeah this chick is really fake and manipulative and etc, i was friends with her back in 2019″ which, okay. yeah. i’ve definitely done shit and said shit that was not the most representative of who i want to be and who i want to become, and you probably have to. because we are human beings and we are a product of our social groups and the community around us. and you shouldn’t be chained to a version of you that isn’t you anymore. people change. they grow. you don’t have to like them, but you should respect that sometimes people don’t mesh, and that doesn’t mean any of them are bad people, it just means the experience was bad. 
a few additional notes i would like to make but i’ve already gone on way too long:
90% of the callout posts that i’ve seen and the DNI’s that i’ve seen can, in my opinion, be classified as a friend group thing. you were friends with x, x did something, now y and z aren’t friends with x anymore. pain is a very, very real thing and people hurting you should never be minimized, but at some point i just want you to remember that not every friendship is going to end happily, but both you and the other party should be allowed to move on and grow better, healthier friendships after. rehashing Friend Group Gone Wrong instances removes that ability for not only person x, but also person y and z.
you putting out a callout says just as much ( maybe more ) about you than it does about the other person. which sucks. because i’d like to think we all have great intentions, and i’m not saying that you should swallow your pain, but it might not be the kind of thing that impacts the community at large, and maybe you should try to find a better way of working through it with a trusted friend(s)
i’m going to be very real and very blunt on this one: literally no one cares. i say that with love. i’m good friends with people who have each other on their DNI’s. establish a baseline of respect and ‘i’m not going to say anything to them about you and vice versa because there’s no need for me to do so’ and move on. but seriously. no one cares. most outside people read callout posts because they like being in the know about the drama, not because they actually care. 
person a and person b who are mentioned in the DNI / callout aren’t the only ones who are going to be affected. your friends, your mutuals, your writing partners are now all put in a weird spot where you have to pick sides on an issue you know nothing about and shouldn’t have to know anything about. you’re asking people to choose sides on an issue they cannot fully understand, and that’s not fair to them or to you. and it drives great people away. and then we all lose out on having more awesome people in the rpc.
you’re entitled to your safe space, but this is a public platform and you are also responsible for maintaining your safe space. you shouldn’t put it entirely on other people to do that for you. you can block, blacklist, make up funny names for, or spitefully erase from your many anything and anyone that you wish. but you shouldn’t make your friends do it for you.
there’s always an inherent power imbalance when any kind of drama occurs between those who have more followers / friends / connections and those who do not. and the smaller blog is always going to suffer a little bit more because they don’t have people blindly coming to their defense. 
bad moments, bad experiences, bad decisions DO NOT equal bad people. 
allow people to make up their own mind about something or someone
anywho, if you read through this whole thing i think i owe you financial compensation. but also thank you for reading / listening / considering. even if you rolled your eyes through the whole thing like “stfu lia” that’s fine. i’m just presenting an alternative thought. i’d like to once again state: i’m not judging you if you’ve made a callout/DNI or if you’re on a callout/DNI. like i literally don’t care. and frankly, in my opinion, i shouldn’t have to. because i, and you, and your friends, and your mutuals, and your non-mutuals should be allowed the space to make up their own opinion and mind on something or someone without being told that there will be consequences if they don’t agree with you. set boundaries. communicate in healthy ways. you don’t have to forgive the people who have hurt or wronged you, but you also don’t get to decide that their actions make up 100% of who they are as a person, or decide that that is the only side of that person people should get to see. 
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atopfourthwall · 4 years ago
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Ive only recently gotten into classic Star Trek so I don't think I can properly answer but what is it specifically about Discovery and recent Star Trek that classic Trek fans hate?
Putting this behind a cut because... it's a lot.
Well, first of all a big rejection of it is just on an aesthetic level. Up until the 2009 movie (which was considered a reboot, even with time travel elements), Star Trek tried to treat the original series and how it was portrayed as pretty sacrosanct. Sure, they might occasionally make jokes about goofier aspects of it and discard some of the stupider stuff (like how in the final episode, penned by Gene Roddenberry himself, that women weren't allowed to Captain starships), but how TOS looked? That's how the 23rd century looked. Buttons and multi-colored outfits and boxy computers and smooth, undetailed ships WAS what was appropriate for the time. When Scotty came back in TNG, they had him on the holodeck and it was the TOS bridge. When DS9 traveled back in time to that era for an episode? They went onto the Enterprise and visited it. When in an Enterprise 2-parter we had a TOS-era ship? It looked like a TOS ship. They even did a 2-parter on Enterprise to explain why Klingons had smooth foreheads when later (and earlier) they didn't. Star Trek up until then cared about maintaining that continuity of appearance. But Discovery is set in the TOS era... but nothing looks like TOS. Even when we got the Enterprise and those uniforms and we saw inside the ship, it was an upgraded form. The only logic I've seen people try to argue about WHY it doesn't look like it actually did was "Well, audiences won't accept something as cheap as TOS being futuristic." Well, then you've got a few responses there: -Don't set in TOS era, then. -That's horseshit, because audiences from the 90s through the 2000s accepted it just fine. Even a piece of dialogue from DS9 explained it perfectly: "I LOVE 23rd century design." It LOOKS cheap, but it was just the aesthetics of the period. And the Enterprise 2-parter it still looked good in HD. Hell, arguably it looked BETTER in HD because they knew how to light it and create mood and its own unique flavor. -It's even more horseshit because people are STILL going back and watching it even today, as indicated by you saying you've started watching it, so clearly it's not that much of a barrier. But what's even more egregious is the TECHNOLOGY. You might be able to accept updated aesthetics if at least matches what was present during the period... and it doesn't. Holographic displays and communication (holodeck technology AT ALL, frankly - it's possible it was there, but TNG seemed pretty adamant that the holodecks were fairly new, very impressive technology), weapons not looking or acting like they traditionally did, Enterprise and Discovery having R2D2-style repair droids that certainly did not exist in TOS, the wrong sound effects being frequently employed, replicator technology for good-looking food instead of food dispensers that gave out marshmallows and cubes, and honestly the tech level shown in Discovery looks just as advanced - if not MORE advanced than seen on TNG 100 years later. And this is a minor thing, but despite the attempt to make the future LOOK futuristic, from a cultural perspective, the future looks... way too damn similar to now. The excessive swearing (it was said in particular in Star Trek 4 that while they certainly did cuss, it was less common and they sure as hell weren't dropping F-bombs), a party on Discovery that looked like a rave (when previously it seemed like the most popular music and culture of the 23rd/24th century was considered fairly high-brow entertainment [classical music, Shakespeare, great works of literature and plays, etc.] - and while you could certainly argue that that snootiness and love of that stuff is a problem with Star Trek and a sign of how sterile and homogenized it is, THAT is the future they presented and a character in Voyager loving some of the goofier parts of 20th century culture like jukeboxes and old sci-fi serials was considered unusual), and just the general way people talk betrays the idea that the writers aren't thinking about how society changes in the future. It's just the modern day, but with cooler technology. But hey, let's set aside the general aesthetics - some people aren't going to mind that and find
ways to handwave away a lot of stuff (even Discovery season 2 TRIED to handwave away stuff like the holographic communications, but did a piss-poor job of it). This brings us to the problem of the WRITING. And the problem with the writing is a big Michael Burnham-shaped indentation. To be clear, I don't mind Michael as a character or her actress - there are interesting aspects to her, centering a Star Trek show around the science officer is a neat idea (though that means you should probably NAME IT AFTER HER and not around the ship, because it suggests this is a standard ensemble group and not JUST her)... but the actual execution is that it feels like the entire universe bends over backwards for HER. She has a unique relationship with a beloved longtime character that is retconned in. She has unique relationships with several important characters to the point where the fate of billions of people hinges on her and the decisions she makes. She is presented as almost always correct about everything, and those that oppose her are often wrong, naïve, or active enemies. Now, this is less of an issue in the third season - but that has its own unique problems - but in the first season, the resolution of two major storylines (mirror universe and the Klingon war) revolves around her and her relationship to the Terran Emperor and Lorca. In season 2, her mother trying to help or save her is the basis of the ENTIRE friggin' plot with time travel and the like, with special knowledge and history having to do with her and everyone ready to abandon their lives for her so she won't be alone when she has to go to the future when arguably they barely know her (the timeline of the show is debatable). Season 3 has a few different problems with her - the first is that she keeps being involved in things that don't concern her (why is she going down to Trill?) and she keeps violating orders. Now, her violating orders is a problem throughout the entirety of Discovery - in fact, it's kind of the instigating factor OF the series. And arguably, other Star Trek characters are guilty of that and they face no consequences, just as she faces none... and yet it's the brazenness with which it happens, and in those other series it's arguable because the series tries to avoid excessive continuity changes for its episodic nature, so the status quo MUST return to normal... but Discovery is pivoted as one of MAJOR continuity, so her lack of consequences (and indeed eventual PROMOTION) is baffling to the point of frustration. Now again, let me be clear here - she is not a bad character in and of herself. Honestly what it shows is that being the science officer on a starship is not where her talents lie. She should be in a position where she has a lot more freedom to act and not in a major command structure... but being in that command structure, what we see in season 3 is that she lacks the discipline, emotional maturity, responsibility, leadership qualities, and general other traits necessary to be a Captain. Only once during season 3 did she display such a quality - putting the safety of the Federation above a friend and colleague... but other times she will happily disobey orders and put herself and others in harm's way, creating potential new problems. Now, again, Star Trek is rife with characters doing that... but usually not the Captains. And, in fact, when this happened once on DS9 with one officer disobeying orders and putting their own personal feelings above the greater responsibility, it was made VERY clear that the incident would mean that they would never be able to command a starship because of the unofficial reprimand. What's even more frustrating about her is that the character is ALWAYS shoved to the forefront so much to the point where we just get sick of her. SHE is the one giving log entries (usually pretty piss-poor ones, at that - very flowery and nonsensical and kind of dumb) and not the Captain. SHE is the one given so much focus and how the plot of the episode affects her. Barely anyone else gets any focus episodes - I STILL can't
remember the names of some of the secondary characters because they're so rarely said, and a PTSD-related plotline in season 3 for one of the secondary characters basically gets resolved OFF-SCREEN. Michael would be fine if we actually had a chance to miss her... but we never do. Arguably one of the best episodes of the show is in season 2, when it focuses on Saru and his people because Michael DOES take a back seat. It's his story and his development and problems relating to him and his people. And even if, again, we forgave the idea of so much focus on her even in plots that aren't about her... she never seems to really change that much. She'll TALK about how she's changed, but I see no real difference in the way she acts (MAYBE season 1 to 2, where in season 1 she was stiffer and more Vulcan-like, but that's it). But hey, let's assume that's not a problem for you - you really, REALLY like Michael and are fine with so much focus on her. Simply put, the writing of the rest of the show... is just kind of dumb. The ship is powered by magic mushrooms that let it teleport everywhere because the universe has super fungus capillaries throughout it that nobody can see and also it's magic and can resurrect the dead. The time travel plot of season 2 doesn't make any sense when you sit down and diagram it. Well-established Trek lore is just kind of sprinkled in, but now in ways that doesn't match what it was before or at least in ways that completely recolor how it's supposed to work, because it needs to serve THIS plot. Everyone remembering a murdererous monster fondly after she leaves because "Hey, she was coooool." The explanation for the big mystery in season 3 is just fricking stupid and one of the two big reasons why I've finally given up on Discovery, because it's just so absurd, doesn't match how anything works, and just feels like the writers giving the middle finger to the audience because they care more about "YOU MUST FEEEEEEL THINGS!" instead of it making sense. And indeed, there is certainly a balance to be made of plot vs. emotion-driven storytelling - some stories are dumb, but are forgivable because the character writing and emotion are so strong that they override how goofy the plot is... but sometimes a plot is just so dumb it overrides anything I'm SUPPOSED to feel. And it would help if I already liked the show, already gave it some benefit of the doubt... but I don't and it hasn't done enough to impress me. A little thing that's a problem with ALL of current modern Trek shows is that whole sprinkling lore thing - I don't think a single episode goes by in ANY current modern Trek series that doesn't have a random reference to classic Trek lore. A name, a line of dialogue, etc. It comes across like the creators don't trust you to enjoy it on its own merits, but want you to like it because "Hey, remember thing? We know about thing! Like us because we mentioned thing!" But hey, I recognize that these are things that other people may not have any problem with or just disagree in general. But for me and my family, these are the big ones that keep us from enjoying it. Hell, my brother and dad still watch it for hatewatching purposes, but I was done after season 3. I gave it plenty of chances to impress me, and while each season MARGINALLY got better as it went along, I'm tired of waiting to actually like it and to stop feeling like it thinks I'm a fucking idiot. If other people still like it, great - it clearly appeals to them in a way that it doesn't appeal to me and they are free to enjoy it. Other people probably have their own issues, but this long, rambly bit is the major stuff for me.
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vs-redemption · 5 years ago
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hello there i just wanna say i love your work and you have great talent!! anyway can i request a part 2 of your cheating hawks?? aaaa thank you!
A/N: Ah! I still can’t believe the response the first part of this story got. I’m almost nervous to post the sequel because I don’t want anyone to be disappointed. I did my best though, and I really hope it lives up to everyone’s expectations!
Betrayal: Part Two (Cheater!Hawks X Fem!Reader)
✨Please click HERE if you haven’t read part one
⚠️This story contains angst and some hints of manga spoilers⚠️
Hawks had persevered through a lot of hardships during his life so far. He’d spent the first few years of his life living in a dump with neglectful parents. Then, he’d had his childhood stolen away by the Hero Public Safety Commission who put him through over a decade of grueling training and emotionally detached living conditions. After that, they had thrown him out into the world to be their obedient pro-hero puppet with hardly any freedom to make his own career decisions. He used to lament over the difficulties of his life, wishing he’d had a more normal and easygoing upbringing. Now, however, he understood that he hadn’t known what true suffering was before. The struggles he’d experienced in his past were nothing compared to the soul crushing agony he was living right now. It had hardly been a week since he’d broken your heart, but it may as well have been years with the way the time seemed to stretch out as if wanting to add minutes on to the miserable haze he was stuck in.
The alarm on the nightstand goes off, telling him he had to get up for work even though he was already wide awake. Mornings were torturous for him now with the empty space in his bed taunting him with the memories of waking up with you held safely in his arms. Hawks covers his face with his hands as unshed tears well up and sting his sleep deprived eyes. Every night he went to bed hoping that when he woke up, the nightmare of your absence would be over. Such wishful thinking only made the truth hurt all the more when it came creeping back into his mind with the morning sun.
“Wow, you look awful,” Jet stream grimaces once Hawks makes it into work. She gives him a once over, taking in the unkempt state of his hair and dead look in his eyes. “You really should put more effort into keeping up appearances or people might start to suspect that something’s going on with you.”
Hawks blinks a few times as he stares at the woman who had been sent to work at his agency by the Hero Commission. All the public records showed that he had recruited her from a different agency to make use of her incredible flight speed that nearly rivaled his own. That was just a cover up though to keep anyone from knowing the truth.
“Something is going on,” Hawks states flatly while glancing down at the canned coffee he held tightly in his hands. He’d been forced to betray the trust of the only person in the world who had genuinely cared about him. Jet stream frowns and folds her arms over her chest.
“You know what I mean,” She tells him in an authoritative tone of voice that made Hawks feel like he was five years old again. He hated being reminded just how little power he had even though he was the number two hero in the country with one of the highest popularity ratings. If only he’d known better way back when the commission had first offered to help him achieve his dreams. But how could he have predicted that the hands which had gladly lifted him up to unimaginable heights would be the same hands threatening to crush him if he didn’t obey their every command?
“You don’t want to blow your cover,” Jet stream raises an eyebrow before turning on her heel and sauntering away. Hawks reaches up a gloved hand to massage the bridge of his nose, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could call you up and apologize for the hell he was putting both of you through. He wanted to tell you that you were the love of his life and that there wasn’t a single part of him that would ever even dream of looking at another woman let alone what he’d led you to believe he’d done. He couldn’t contact you though. The higher ups at the Hero Commission had made him promise that he wouldn’t, especially with the undercover mission they’d assigned him recently. They’d told him it wouldn’t be safe for him to have any unnecessary personal connections for a while.
What they didn’t seem to understand though was that you were necessary. Despite it being a dangerous time to be associated with him, Hawks sometimes felt like it was impossible to even breathe whenever the reality hit him that he would never have you by his side again. Knowing what you must think of him now made his stomach roll. And even if the Hero Commission allowed him to explain everything, he doubted it would make a difference. The damage was done. The pain and hurt he had caused was real, even if the story behind it wasn’t.
Weeks stretched into months and as Hawks progressed with his mission he found himself faced with terrible decisions that made him question whether anything he accomplished in the end would be worth the sacrifices he’d made. Since he was a child, all he’d ever wanted was to be a great hero. And when he’d first debuted, saving people’s lives and making the world a safer place seemed to offset some of the less glamorous parts of the job. Now though, Hawks felt numb as he went through the motions, doing whatever he could just to survive day to day. At a glance, it probably looked like he was the same confident, charming hero everyone knew and loved. On the inside though, he was an empty husk. He’d wanted to be a great hero ever since he was a child, but now the only thing he really wanted was you.
“You know, I think it’s about time for some costume upgrades,” Jet Stream says casually one day while flying over the city with Hawks on patrol. She was fidgeting with one of the gadgets on her wrist that he’d never even seen her use. Hawks hated having to share the sky with her so much. The only purpose she served was to spy on him for the Hero Commission, making sure he didn’t so much as bat an eye without their explicit permission. The weight of her presence felt like a shackle.
“Oh, look who it is!” Jet Stream points down to the street below and Hawk’s feel’s a spark of life in his chest when his golden eyes zero in on you. Just the smile on your face is enough to send his heart fluttering around his ribcage. He hadn’t seen you in so long, but the happiness of seeing you again is short lived when a man steps up beside you and takes your hand into his. Seeing you lean comfortably into the man’s touch felt like a knife stabbing him in the gut. Hawks has to physically swallow back the bile rising up in his throat when he realizes just how lost you really are to him. Part of him was happy to see that you weren’t suffering the way that he was, but another part of him envied your ability to move forward from the tragic end of your relationship. Hawks would never be able to move forward. Unlike you, he was a prisoner to his past with what seemed like no means of escape. Perhaps one day he would break free of the Commission’s hold on him, but until then, he’d have to continue enduring the hardships life threw at him.
Tags: @hawksexual// @lilnachochip// @todominica// @neonokinawa// @iluvvhewer// @effmigentlywithachainsaw// @sunniethesimp//
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ddarker-dreams · 5 years ago
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Trips. Yan Illumi x Reader [COMM]
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Life brings with it new situations, impeding obstacles that need to be overcome. 
Flexibility is the trait that allows such things to be navigated properly, to accept and work with the cards that you’ve been dealt. Unfortunately for you, this character trait has always seemed to be one of your greatest fallacies. 
Why this incontestable fact wasn’t enough to deter Illumi, you would never know for certain. Determined is the word you found to fit his likeness the best. Illumi sought out on the long and cumbersome journey of sculpting you into his ideal masterpiece, chipping away at elements unfitting of his taste; while emphasizing any desirable traits. 
Dehumanizing as it is, it’s your new reality. One that you never expected to be a chapter in the book of your life, if not the falling action and conclusion now all together. But, as inflexible as you are at times, you can still attempt to make the most of it in your own way.
Having already offered any serious forms of opposition, you quickly learned the petty endeavors would ultimately be pointless. Illumi never so much as blinked at any of your trite attempts at upsetting him, not taking the offenses as seriously as you hoped. Maybe that was for the best, as he’d still reprimand you despite seeming unaffected. 
“Aina,” you invite over in a low tone. “Can you come here for a moment?” 
There isn’t any reason to voice your desires in a polite manner, seeing as the Zoldyck butlers would carry out your every reasonable whim without complaint. Even if they held the key to freeing you from this grandiose prison, you still couldn’t find it within yourself to harbor any serious resentment against them. 
Even if they did come to their senses, and ever tried to assist you, you didn’t want to imagine what the consequences would be for such an offense.
“Do you need something, Master [First]?” 
Aina appears next to you faster than the human eye could comprehend, her serious gaze set wholly upon you. Aina was who Illumi assigned to be your personal butler during your first few days here, someone who has become a familiar face. You had asked her before for her age, only to learn she was only a year older than you. 
Illumi most likely picked her out for that very reason, wanting to “ease” the transition into your new life. 
Aina sports a well cared for bob, having light brunette hair and honey colored eyes. It seems you fell right into Illumi’s trap, feeling a kindling of friendship with her. Even if it wasn’t formed in a natural way, a friend is a friend. 
Leaning back in the garden chair, a soft noise leaves your lips as you stretch your stiff muscles. The relaxing sounds of nature always felt like a welcome change of pace. You’ve always expressed your preference for the gardens in the Zoldyck estate, preferring them greatly over the Gothic style mansion. 
The air out here feels lighter, the sun inviting as it gently kisses your skin. Different cries from exotic creatures you couldn’t even begin to name fill your ears, along with the sounds of running water from the fountains. 
Aina waits by your side ever so patiently, while your mind is full of these thoughts.
Sheepishly looking up at her through your eyelashes, you smile. “I have a bit of a request, actually.” 
She’s capable of picking up on every nuance to your words, of reading all the twitches of your muscles and knowing what emotions they indicate. In a way, it almost reminds you of Illumi. But whereas Illumi would exploit this telling information for his own gain, Aina uses it only to serve you better.
“If by chance I’m asking for too much, just let me know,” you request, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. At this you notice her jawline tightening, most likely anticipating the worst. “It’s been on my mind to get some new decorations to spruce up my room. Not to say I dislike the whole, vampires living in the 1800s look, but it’s a tad dreary.” 
Aina’s lips quirk up, before she swiftly changes to a neutral look once more. 
“Since I can’t really use the internet, it’s not like I can do online shopping. And I’d feel bad for someone having to deliver it on a mountain too. So how do I go about this? Is there like a special Zoldyck amazon that I can use, but no one has told me about yet?” 
At any hints of humanity Aina offers, you find it easier to talk without holding yourself back. Being all doom and gloom nonstop is tiring after all, sometimes you just have to roll with the punches. Even if that phrase most likely is not intended for being forced into marriage with an assassin, it could still apply here, right? 
“If I’m being honest with you, I’m not entirely sure,” Aina places a tentative hand to her chin, eyes narrowing in deep thought. “I’d need to contact Master Illumi for his instructions. Do you want me to do so now?” 
At the mention of your husband’s name, you frown. Even if you were expecting your request to be run through multiple channels for permission to be granted, it doesn’t soothe the sting any less. Most things in your life, if not everything, are controlled entirely by Illumi. 
Puffing your cheeks out in mild annoyance, you can’t help but sigh dejectedly. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I don’t have much of a choice if I want to get my pink sheets…” 
Aina doesn’t so much as flinch at your thinly veiled sarcasm, instantly getting herself to work with the matter at hand. You find yourself watching her carefully as Aina reaches for the black phone in her pocket. If you remember correctly, Aina had informed you that Illumi is on his way back from a job that had him absent a week. 
Seeing as he must be in transit, you assume Aina has the green light to contact him whenever necessary without the concern of impeding on his work. 
With the press of a button, you hear a low dialing tone come from her phone. One ring later you hear him pick up, Aina’s posture straightening even more than it was before out of respect. Tilting your head at the half heard exchange before you, you’re unable to determine much from Aina’s stoic facade.
Eventually, she pulls the phone away from her head. Before you get the opportunity to ask if you’re in the clear, she holds the phone out in your direction. 
“Master Illumi wishes to speak with you.” 
At this instruction, you swallow thickly. Speaking to Illumi is always a tricky battle, his words blunt yet crafted all the same. Aina subtly nudges the phone forward once more, prompting you to gingerly pick it up. Placing it against your ear, you bite your lip before finally speaking. Not wanting to give off the impression of being frightened, you put your all into sounding casual.
“So uh, what’s up?” you inquire to him, looking down at your tea cup. By now it’s undoubtedly cold, the amber colored liquid held in a fine china worth more than you could imagine. The desire to fiddle with your hands overwhelms you, so you reach for the handle. 
At your voice, Illumi responds immediately in his signature deadpan. “Aina mentioned you wanted to go shopping.” 
‘Is this… newsworthy or something?’
“Yeah, I thought it could be a nice change of pace,” you let out an airy laugh, your grip on the handle growing tighter. Even when Illumi isn’t face to face with you, you still can’t help but feel nervous. “It’d make me happy. But I understand if it’s too unreasonable.” 
You sit awaiting a response, hearing nothing but the propellers of the blimp Illumi must be travelling on. Does that mean he’s considering it? There’s always a chance he has already made up his mind, but wants to give the impression of taking your feelings into account. It’s a creepy tick you noticed he has, trying to act more human for your sake. 
“Alright. We’ll go when I get back this evening,” Illumi eventually concludes, much to your surprise. “You can hand the phone back to Aina now.” 
Nodding your head despite him not being able to see you, you give the dark phone back to Aina who stands in waiting. She takes it before confirming a few more minor details, and then ultimately ending the phone call. It’s strange, you believe, that such a mild request requires so many moving parts. Whether it be Illumi’s suffocatingly protective nature over you, or the cost of being a Zoldyck, you’re unsure. 
Aina busies herself with contacting other butlers at your behest, most likely planning out in great length how everything will work. If it weren’t for being held here against your will, you might even feel bad for all the effort they’re putting in for your sake. But even if it’s a small one, this is a victory nonetheless! 
Having been with Illumi for over a year now, you quickly picked up on what you should and shouldn’t do. Even when you’re upset with him, which you can’t help but be a majority of the time; it’s in your best interest to not show it. A few snarky quips here and there don’t do much damage, but anything other than that can place you in boiling hot water.
Illumi had expressed to you in the past a similar sentiment. That once you adjust to your new life, things will flow a lot smoother for you. Now the fruits of your labor are starting to show, you believe. If he’s placing enough trust in you to do this, then maybe, just maybe; you can have even more freedoms over time.
Once Aina looks to be free for a moment, you begin to speak to her again.
“You know, in the past when I wanted to go shopping I’d just get in my car, and head to the mall.” you recall over to her, wistfully sighing for extra effect. Aina never seems bothered by your musings, always indulging you without a hint of irritation.
“I’m sure things were simpler then. But now that you’re a Zoldyck, there are a lot of extra factors to account for,” Aina points out with a soft smile of her own. Whether it’s genuine or not, you’re unsure. “Master Illumi does the utmost to ensure your safety.” 
“I’m surprised he hasn’t wrapped me up in bubble wrap yet,” you snicker at the thought, before your eyes widen in realization. “Wait, I shouldn’t give him any ideas…” 
“If it makes you feel any better, I doubt he’d do that.” 
‘For some reason, that doesn’t make me feel much better.’
Shaking your head, you decide to curve the conversation away from your overprotective husband. “What time are we heading out? I have to wear my finest threads and all, since I’m representing the family.” 
Pulling the cuff of her suit back, she looks down at her watch.
“Four hours, give or take. You still have some time.” Aina responds in haste, before covering her watch yet again. 
Owlishly, you stare at her, finding her every move to be of interest. It further cements the feeling that you don’t fit in with this estate, despite Illumi’s attempts. The grace the family members have, and even their servants have, is still far from your grasp.
That still doesn’t stop him from trying though.
“In that case, I’ll return to my previous philosophical musings.” you respond while stroking your chin, stifling another laugh. If there’s anything that can bring you comfort in this foreign place, it’s your own stupid words. 
Why you caught the interest of Illumi Zoldyck is still one of the world’s wonders, not to say you don’t have your own theories. Some ranging from being cursed as a baby, to having done something in your past life to deserve this. 
‘How does the saying go again? Opposites attract, or something. Illumi is probably the opposite of me in every conceivable way, after all.’
“Would you like me to brew you some fresh tea?” Aina asks you, having taken notice of your cold beverage. You purse your lips, knowing that trying to understand Illumi is a lost cause.
“Yes please.” 
---
When you used to watch events where celebrities would gather, one of the coolest aspects to you were the cars they’d emerge from. Sports cars, luxury vehicles, limousines. All of them filled you with awe and wonder, a class above what you could ever hope to afford. 
Now you stand here, face to face with a limousine of your own, gaping at the tinted windows and expensive tires. Three vehicles just like it line up behind, most likely your other escorts. 
Aina looks over at you once more, straightening her posture and then subtly motioning to you. It takes a moment for it to click, before realizing that your gawking isn’t as subtle as you thought it was. Following her example with less grace, you walk towards the car door.
Before you can continue to do so, you hear Aina speak up behind you. 
“Do you recall everything I told you earlier?” she inquires, causing you to turn your head back to her. Humming lowly, you remember the myriad of boring guidelines you had to endure earlier. It all felt so dramatic, and if you’re being honest, you zoned out for a majority of it. 
Scrunching up your nose, you place a finger to your cheek. “Don’t go around yelling ‘Help! I’ve been kidnapped!’ or something.” 
Aina pinches her nose, before shaking her head. “Well, you’re not wrong per se…” 
Giving her a cheeky smile, you go to reach for the door handle. But before you get the opportunity, another servant swiftly opens it for you. 
“Please, allow me, Master [First].” 
He opens it with a respectful bow, revealing a black leather interior. Letting out a small “oooh!”, you bite your lip upon noticing the other occupant of the limousine. Waving off the servant’s attempt to assist you into your seat, you hear Aina speak to you once more.
“I’ll be in the car behind you if you need anything.” 
“I’ll yell out the window in that case.” you yell back, undoubtedly earning a reprimanding look from her. Plopping yourself down into your seat, your door is closed before you even get the chance to do it yourself.
“No greeting, huh?” Illumi tilts his head, blank eyes staring at you with an unreadable expression. Fiddling with your seat belt, you finally look over at him in acknowledgement. Managing to hear a click signifying your seat belt is locked in place, you give Illumi your full attention.
“Hey, didn’t see you there.” you greet Illumi who doesn’t so much as blink at your words. 
“You looked at me when getting in,” he points out, any form of humor flying over his head. “Do we need to get your eyes checked?” 
Throwing your hands up in defense, you swiftly shake your head at his offer. “I was just joking, Illumi.” 
“Ah.” 
Illumi’s tone is as flippant as ever, one of his signature trademarks. On the other side of the partition, you hear keys being flipped to turn the car on. With a soft hum, the car gains traction with remarkable ease. On such a rocky terrain, none of it is felt as the luxury vehicle glides across the ground. 
Returning your attention to Illumi, you find him staring at you as well. For a while it gave you a jittery feeling, having those dark voids for eyes thoroughly observing your every move. While it certainly isn’t any less frightening, you suppose that all this time with Illumi has given you a sort of immunity to it. 
“So… how did your job go?” you inquire in a soft voice, hands set in place on your lap. There isn’t much else to talk about, so might as well try your luck with this. Illumi would sit next to you in total silence if he so chose to, not being the type to entertain conversation himself without some kind of agenda. 
“As well as expected,” Illumi responds earnestly, seemingly pleased that you’re taken interest in him. “The target was killed without a hitch.” 
You let out a hesitant laugh. “Oh. That’s uh, that’s good I think...” 
Trailing off your sentence, you find yourself scratching the back of your neck at the topic in progress. The thought of the person next to you having killed someone in the last twenty-four hours is dizzying, so you’re quick to move onto something new.
“So, where exactly are we going?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for the past few hours. The fact you were even leaving Kukuroo mountain in the first place is a surprising one, even your honeymoon took place here. Unless there’s some other Zoldyck owned establishment that happens to double as a mall, your mind is clueless to any possible destinations.
“I made arrangements to empty out a shopping center for a few hours. Aside from employees, that is,” Illumi explains, still not blinking. “Aina went over everything with you, right?” 
‘She did, but it’s not like I was really paying attention.’ 
Clearing your throat, you quickly nod your head to deter any negative repercussions. “Yeah, I remember everything she said.” 
He studies you once more, before leaning back into his seat. You feel a sudden urge to do the same, but find it difficult to ever fully relax when Illumi is present. Among other things, there’s still one damning question you still can’t fully understand. 
Why Illumi is even allowing this in the first place, after all the insane precautions he’s taken to seal you off from the world. Maybe it’s best not to pry into your sudden good fortune? Since curiosity killed the cat, quelling this question will be in your best interest. 
Leaning your head against your fist, your eyebrows furrow. 
“You have more questions.” Illumi points out, alarming you. Of course he notices any change in your behavior, having spent hours studying every aspect about you. In his own words, there’s nothing you can hide from him. At every given opportunity he proves those words to be correct. 
“W-well, yeah,” you admit out at the unexpected heckle. “If I’m being completely honest… I’m just a little taken aback that you’re actually allowing this. I guess.” 
For a moment you wonder if your words were too blunt, as Illumi sits there in rigid silence. 
“Think of it as a reward for your good behavior,” Illumi eventually concludes, lips curling into an unnatural, proud smile. “Even though you weren’t too compliant at first, you never made any escape attempts. I would’ve known had you tried. I was largely expecting the possibility, but you never made any serious offenses.” 
‘I feel like this is how a judge talks to a defendant or something.’
“I suppose that’s true…” you consider, reflecting back to your time here. Although escaping had crossed your mind numerous times, you never had the guts to act on it. The odds were insourmantable against you. What with all the highly trained assassins and butlers running about, you’d have better luck at winning the lottery than pulling a successful escape.
“I’ve always liked outings like this. I would treat myself to a five dollar coffee and then immediately regret it when I got home,” you recall with a snicker. “There’s nothing quite like opening your bank account and wondering, ‘What was I thinking?’ when you’re out of the moment.” 
Illumi nods his head. “That’s true. Your bank account wasn’t in the best shape.” 
“How do you even-- whatever, I probably don’t want to know,” you murmur while rolling your eyes at his lack of tact. “The point being that the most fun part is all the little treats you buy yourself in between the stores. Sometimes I’d get those cups of small pretzel bites, then have to eat them really quick since you can’t bring them in the stores.” 
“Ah! That explains all the small transactions I saw.” Illumi proclaims, eyes lighting up for a moment. 
‘The art of being subtle is all but lost to my husband.’
“Have you ever had pretzel bites, Illumi? For some reason, I get the feeling you haven’t been to the mall that often.” you comment while giving him a once over, taking in his unique fashion that would certainly stand out. How he even goes in public without people badgering him is remarkable. 
“Only once for shadowing on a job.” Illumi answers, piquing your inner curiosity. 
“You were hired to assassinate someone who hung out around a mall? I thought you only went after politicians or important people.” you point out, tilting your head.
“There’s some variety. The client himself was a wealthy individual, who wanted his daughter’s boyfriend killed. She had been dating someone who worked at a clothing store, going against her father’s wishes.” 
Frowning, you lean back into your seat. Some people will do anything for the sake of image, but the thought of doing something that would actively hurt a member of your family doesn’t make any sense to you. But the people that Illumi deal with are in a league of their own, taking part in a world you will never understand.
A somber atmosphere begins to set in, to which you attempt to alleviate with a joke. “Did you trail the guy in one of those mascot suits? Like the ones people give free samples in?” 
For a moment, you swear you saw Illumi’s eyebrows knit together. He’s still getting used to unfiltered comments, even after all this time. You’ve been told your personality is a tad on the eccentric side in the past. It doesn’t help that Illumi is incapable of spotting humor even in others. 
“No. That wouldn’t have been effective.” Illumi plainly states, unimpressed with your guess. 
At his dismissal, you further explain your reasoning. “Think about it! It’s an efficient method. You’d blend right in with the atmosphere around you, and no one would be able to tell that you’re looking at your target because of the mask. I think this is genius, actually. Maybe I should patent it…” 
Illumi purses his lips together at your further insistence. At the very least you know Illumi never tunes you out like most would be inclined to at this point. He soaks in every word, every movement of your lips. 
“That’s certainly something you would say.” he ultimately decides, knowing your carefree nature and comments well. 
‘Is that a good or bad thing? That’s probably a bad thing.’
Not giving too much thought to Illumi’s blunt comment, you content yourself by looking out your window. On the outside it’s impossible to see the interior of the car, but from this angle you’re able to see blurry scenery as it goes by. Having familiarized yourself with most of the Zoldyck estate, this felt like an entirely new world. A welcome one at that.
The temptation to lower the window for fresh air presses against you like a thorn, but you ultimately deny it. Who knows how Illumi would interpret the act, it’s better to not risk it. Instead your eyes go wide at the sights around you, seeing the outside world in what felt like forever. 
You can still feel Illumi’s gaze boring into the back of your head, but you think nothing of it. He watches you enough as is, it’s not worth getting worked up about. Through winding roads, a hint of civilization finally makes itself known. Seeing people not donning the standard Zoldyck tuxedo fills your heart with nostalgia of a time before.
Eventually, the vehicle comes to a stop in an almost empty parking lot. Not wanting to make any wrong moves, you sit patiently for whatever security checks the butlers are most likely performing at the moment. Illumi gets out before you do, the chauffeur eventually coming to open the door for you just a minute later.
Taking in the fresh air, you appreciate the ability to stretch your legs while awaiting further instruction. Aina catches your eye for a brief moment, giving you a reassuring nod before returning her attention to looking at the premises. The butlers continue to speak among themselves, occasionally running a few words by Illumi who returns to your side.
Once everything seems to be in order, you’re prompted to walk towards the entrance. It reminds you of a scene from an apocalyptic movie, seeing how this large mall is almost entirely devoid of human life. It seems Illumi’s comment about only employees being present rings true, as you cheerfully enter into the grandiose mall. 
Looking around at the interior, you come to the realization that this is an extremely high end mall. 
‘So much for my pretzel bite dreams… Maybe they have caviar stands here instead.’
Pausing, you glance over at Illumi to make certain that you’re still in the clear. Not sensing any indication that you’ve done something wrong, you continue on your merry way. It’s an overwhelming selection before you, but you want to treasure this moment for as long as you can.
Anything that catches your eye you indulge, walking into the store while being surrounded by numerous butlers. The employees at the store seem understandably hesitant at your presence, so you make an effort to not disturb them more than necessary. The shops that catch your eye the most are clothing stores.
Eventually, you approach one with a variety of cute outfits. The collection of clothes you currently have is surprisingly tailored to your taste, Illumi most likely having studied that aspect about you. An overall outfit in particular stands out to you, causing you to walk over to it with urgency.
“Illumi! How do you think this would look on me?” you call over to him with a snicker, grabbing the hanger and holding it against your person. Illumi looks at you as if you have three heads, mind undoubtedly wracking to form a husband like answer.
“It would look acceptable.” he eventually responds, to which your shoulders slump. It’s not like your expectations are high, but Illumi’s lack of enthusiasm never fails to shine through. A mischievous thought passes through your mind, grin adorning your face before you can stop it. Placing the outfit back to its previous spot, your eyes roam over the selection.
Spotting a bright pink tuxedo, you pick it up before examining Illumi.
“I think you need a new outfit or two. How about this? It’d really bring out your eyes.” you beam, using all of your strength not to laugh. Illumi looks at the bright, hot pink tuxedo and then looks at you. In your peripheral vision you see Aina place her hand to her forehead. Shouldn’t she also be used to this by now?
“I’ll consider your input.” Illumi reaches for the tuxedo, much to your astonishment. Could it be? Is he actually going to purchase this in an attempt to further win you over? Victory is a fleeting emotion, as he stretches his arms to place the outfit back in record time.
“I don’t think that’s what I’d call considering,” you point out with a frown, Illumi seemingly content with the outfit being out of your hands. “You didn’t even give it a shot. At least try it on.” 
At your additional pressure, Illumi offers a simple response. “I am considering it.’ 
Giving an over dramatic sigh, you nod before busying yourself with the other selections. Adding a few more odds and ends to your bag, it’s paid for by one of the butlers. Most likely to further limit any of your contact with the outside world. You get the feeling that if you even attempt to make conversation with them, they’d be too skittish to say anything in response. It doesn’t help that you have Illumi looming over you. 
Humming to yourself, you move onto the next few stores. It’s impossible to curtail all of your old habits, still checking the price tag before remembering it doesn’t matter anymore. This part of being with Illumi isn’t all that bad, despite its shallowness. Guilt never comes to you, however, as you recall with ease all Illumi has taken from you. 
The sun starts to set in the sky above you, the glass ceiling of the mall further showcasing the bold oranges and reds. All of the recent sunsets you’ve seen have been on Kukuroo Mountain, where you almost felt you could reach out and touch the clouds yourself. Stopping in your tracks, you gape at the nostalgic scene.
‘This is how it used to look like.’ 
The thought of never being able to see the sky from your own residence never occurred to you. Despite the undeniable beauty witnessing a sunset on a mountain brings, it’s too surreal. This is a familiar comfort, one that you’ve experienced your entire life before Illumi entered it.
“There aren’t any shops up there.” Illumi points out, his monotone returning you to reality. Jumping slightly at his sudden speech, you offer a small laugh. In a way, Illumi’s bluntness can be unintentionally humorous. 
“Now that you mention it,” you begin, squinting and looking around. “You’re right. There aren’t any. Strange, I could’ve sworn I saw some.” 
“Maybe you should see an ophthalmologist after all.” 
“I’m still joking, Illumi.” 
“Ah.” 
A butler who you don’t recognize approaches Illumi carefully, whispering a few words into his ear. Illumi looks back towards you, his attention once again yours. Your stomach sinks before he even speaks, capable of guessing what he’s already going to say.
“We’ll be heading back home now,” Illumi states, leaving little room for debate. “Did you get everything you wanted?” 
It’s a rhetorical question, you feel. At this point it’ll be best for you to offer your abundant gratitude, for him having allowed this entire trip to begin with. Giving one more glance to the sky, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at it like this again.
Giving Illumi a bittersweet smile, you nod your head. “Yeah. Everything I wanted.”
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stovmborn-arc · 4 years ago
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𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 & 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒.
**   this meta contains book, show and personal headcanons following daenerys’ relationship with her dragons. one thing that really stands out to me in the show is that the dragons are literally used as weapons of war, rather than maintaining the relationship that daenerys had displayed with them during the earlier books. yes, they will help her win the seven kingdoms but they are her children, instead of ways of winning battles. crafted and constructed over lots of heartbreak with the help of daisy over on @perzyr​  ( a literal living dragon encyclopaedia )  so please go and give some love with a follow for top quality dragon lore & content. it’s going to be a long one so if you do read this then get comfortable. i will always reference and inform my writing partners of any important details regarding the dragons, should they be of any relevance to our plots or threads.  give that like button a   ♡   if you do read this  –-–  just so i know   !!!
◈        first things first, daenerys is not immune to fire. although in the show, she does not suffer any injuries from the funeral pyre in which she burns drogo, she is given the name of the unburnt because of emerging from the the flames alive, not unscathed. the hatching and birth of drogon, rhaegal and viserion was incredibly unique, a miracle even. three petrified eggs were placed into the pyre of her husband and dragons returned to the world for the first time in centuries. in the books, she loses her hair as a result of being within the flames and much like any other human, sustains at least some injuries. as a targaryen, she can tolerate high levels of heat and resist the pain of being burnt for a short while but too much time in fire can be severely damaging. albeit receiving wounds, they are quick healing given the magic in her valyrian blood. ◈        there is a level of understanding between daenerys and each of her children. although she cannot physically speak to them, there is a bond that she believes cannot be broken between her, drogon, rhaegal and viserion despite eventually becoming drogon’s rider. the bond she forms with them is one that grows with the time she spends nurturing them. to form a closeness, she cooks their meat as they are only babies and even speaks to them in valyrian. daenerys does not only rely on them for warmth but for comfort at times where she is feeling uncertain of the path ahead. dragon cuddles are a thing, it is known. cradling them in her arms, letting them huddle around her and sharing warmth with them, she attempts to create a physical bond between herself and her children. viserion is known for curling up on dany’s chest in particular. whilst drogon and rhaegal tend to occupy themselves more in play, viserion can be found by daenerys’ side as she reads. rather than caging them, daenerys ensures that they have their own safe space they can return to where they are free  –-–  their own sanctuary almost unless they are travelling. she allows them to fly above her and the khalasar along the red waste but also has a horses cart in which she places them when they grow tiresome.  ◈        when it comes to the chaining of viserion and rhaegal, daenerys is at odds with herself. beginning to lose control of drogon and learning that yunkai has returned to their old ways, a weight rests upon her shoulders. jorah mormont has too recently betrayed her and so, daenerys feels control slipping from her fingers. remembering that she is still young and somewhat naive ( despite being a queen ), an overwhelming amount of guilt falls upon her as the body of a child is brought before her claiming that  ‘the winged shadow’  was responsible. whilst it is suggested that the death has been caused by the masters in a bid to shame her, daenerys decides that it is a risk she simply cannot take. grudges have been held against her ancestors for the pain they instilled upon their own dragons, confining them to a pit. her liberation of slavers bay has been dedicated to freeing people of their chains and yet, she finds herself submitting to exactly what those of house targaryen did many years prior in the dragon pits. with a heavy heart, she makes a temporary measure to confine them below the great temple though, it is not as simple as what the show depicts it to be and instead, she faces a struggle.
◈        ❝  once, not long ago, she had ridden on her shoulder, her tail coiled around her arm. once she had fed her morsels of charred meat from her own hand. she had been the first chained up. daenerys had led her to the pit herself and shut her up inside with several oxen. once she had gorged herself, she grew drowsy. they had chained her whilst she slept.  ❞   –-–   the capture of viserion, her smallest and youngest baby. having to lead viserion into the pits personally, it felt as though she was leading viserion astray. an immediate guilt resides within daenerys, knowing that it is only her who has the power to bring viserion into the pit, it felt as though daenerys was leading her to her own demise. she had been named for viserys, the very person who had bargained with her freedom and now, she has in turn, chained the dragon she had named after him into a slave. ◈        ❝  rhaegal had been harder. perhaps he could hear his sister raging in the pit, despite the walls of brick and stone between them. in the end, they had to cover him with a net of heavy iron chain as he basked on her terrace, and he fought so fiercely that it had taken three days to carry him down the servants’ steps, twisting and snapping. six men had been burned in the struggle.  ❞   –-–   the capture of rhaegal, her most stubborn and defiant child. following the tales of rhaegar, she knew that rhaegal would not go down without a fight, though she did not anticipate the difficulty that would come with it. knowing of the struggle that he puts up, it only stirs more distress within daenerys, a sense of grief she has not felt before. watching the struggle increases her guilt and she cannot face rhaegal, employing members of the unsullied instead to lure him to the pits as she cannot bring herself to face him beneath iron nets. ◈        there are many occasions in which daenerys struggles to live with the decision that she has succumbed to the very thing her ancestors did and in an attempt to quell her own sadness and keep a bond with viserion and rhaegal during drogon’s disappearance, pays visits to them in the pits. though on one occasion, one lunges towards her as teeth snap in darkness, daenerys barely able to make out what is happening. the only thing that saves her is the fiery breath in which viserion releases, lighting a path so that she is able to quickly flee from what turns out to be an attack from rhaegal. the time he has spent in darkness has shaped his vision of his mother, stirring a rage inside of him ( not only for himself but for his sister ). paying mind to the devastation that she has bestowed upon her children, the pit is sealed abruptly once more and daenerys is left with a raincloud lingering above her. she had named viserion to do what her brother could not  –-–  protect her and that was exactly what viserion attempted to do as a fire lit within rhaegal’s throat, ready to engulf their mother as punishment. ◈        when the fighting pits are reopened during her wedding to hizdahr zo loraq and the sons of the harpy attack, drogon is lured to daznak’s fighting pits by the noise and the smell of blood. no whip is used to berate him or mount him and instead, the bond that formed between them is returned to her eyes as she looks at him in fear. she pulls a spear from his side, teeth bared as he lets out a scream of pain, though he soon realises it is his mother. it is within that moment that she remembers she is the mother of dragons and instead, takes to climb atop of him where she is carried to safety and taken to his lair in the dothraki sea where he has been living in his absence. falling ill and growing weak after eating wild berries and the scraps that drogon has left behind, daenerys begins to hallucinate. not only does she have visions of quaithe and the message she has delivered but she dreams of her children too, chained and betrayed by their own mother. it is in these visions that the impact of her actions begin to stir inside of her, realising that her children were never the monsters but instead, it was her.
◈        freed by tyrion, daenerys and her children take to the skies to defend meereen which is under siege at the hands of yunkai, astapor and volantis who are adamant in ending her ‘reign’. whilst this might not necessarily be a moment of rejoice and destruction for rhaegal and viserion, it is the first time in which they have been free from the pits beneath the temple in which they had been chained. viserion flies in out of loyalty to her mother ( and feeling somewhat responsible for having been chained ) as rhaegal follows closely behind, having grown protective of his sister. following the victory, daenerys dedicates most of her time in making amends to her children she has betrayed and willingly chained. 
◈        with viserion, she takes baskets of apples having known it is her favourite food and sits upon clifftops, reading to her in an attempt to salvage the bond they had. she tells her tales of the dragons that lived centuries before them, teaching her of dragonstone and the history of house targaryen’s reign in kings landing, on occasion also speaking in high valyrian. it takes weeks in order to strengthen what she had severed and at times, has to sit with her back to viserion to provide her with some comfort. each day that passes, she inches slightly further forward until one day, realises that viserion is wrapped around her  –-–  too big to now curl around her neck like she had done as a child. at first, when daenerys goes to touch her, she realises that rhaegal is scared ( particularly if her neck is touched from where she almost strangled herself, worried for her mothers safety as the sons of the harpy erupted within the fighting pits ). instead, she makes contact by scratching at her nuzzle, allowing her palm to stroke between her nostrils until she reaches up to the point between her eyes. 
◈        with rhaegal, the process is a much longer and difficult one. as noted in the words of barristan selmy, he was always the more aggressive dragon and quite often, became possessive over things such as food. when attempting to rebuild the bond she had with rhaegal, daenerys ensures to bring him extra meat and cooks it herself, starting a fire and charring it before retreating further away. there is little she can do in terms of comforting rhaegal and for the first couple of weeks, sits with him in silence knowing that no words can convince him of how she believed she was doing what was best for meereen. on one occasion, rhaegal snaps at daenerys, pinning her down to the point of almost crushing her. it is a cry from viserion that tears rhaegal away, the sadness within her windpipe causing him to leave daenerys and fly off elsewhere to escape from his mother. on her next visit, she ensures that viserion is there, becoming aware of the protective instinct he feels for his sister. eventually, daenerys attempts to create toys and little playful games like she did as they were babies. this consists of making balls of ribbon, much bigger than what they once were as drogon joins them too, living in the memories they did when the three of them were newly hatched. the trust between rhaegal and daenerys has never fully returned to what it once was, though she notices that tyrion’s presence instils a sense of calm within him  –-–   one she has not seen before. it fills her with sadness, having named him for her brother who died on the green banks of the trident, daenerys had hoped she might feel a closeness to rhaegal out of the connection he holds with rhaegar and yet, this will never happen. though, she knows she only has herself to blame. 
𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋.
◈        following the chaos in daznak’s pits and realising that spears ( although not deadly ) can cause damage and hurt to a dragon, daenerys readies her dragons to have armour as she prepares to sail for westeros. it is not full body armour but more so protective layers that shape around their throats and shoulders. shed skin is used to form a second layer of scales, used for measurements too. a saddle is also made for drogon, simply to make things safer and to provide him with more comfort as she rides him. more details are later added to their armour using dragonglass mined from the caves of dragonstone. 
◈        it is suggested by some that to maintain a relationship between her and the dragons, so that they accept her as their ruler, daenerys uses a whip to control them. when she acquires the unsullied, daenerys is seen mocking the masters by tossing the whip that master krazyns provides her with to the ground. and if this does not promote her attitude towards cruelty and control, i don’t know what does. as much as she would like to be able to tame her dragons, she understands that they are creatures as smart as she. they have their own mind, their own will and it cannot be bent or controlled. she does not use a whip or any kind of weapon to command them but instead, relies on the physical and mental bond that she has instead as a means of trying to show them what is right from wrong. the first time when this is questioned however, is when she locks rhaegal and viserion in the pits below her pyramid. 
◈        if more eggs were to come into her possession, daenerys would not be so hasty in attempting to hatch them. she knows that it was a miracle for her own eggs to hatch and would not rush to do so but rather, let the dragon insides grow until they are ready. as she did with drogon, rhaegal and viserion, she would spend time with them and attempt to bond with them. the difference this time around however, is that any babies will have older dragons to look up to    –-–  to nurture them and daenerys would rely especially upon viserion having shared such a tight knit bond with her since she was small enough to fit in her palm. 
◈        if either rhaegal or viserion showed interest in allowing another rider, it would not bother daenerys so much, providing that the person they had shown an inclination to was somebody she too trusts. the dragons and daenerys share a bond ( even if it was severed when she betrayed their trust ) but they have seen many people enter and leave their mothers life. some lost to war and protecting their queen, others with ulterior motives. the dragons have a good judge of character, particularly drogon and viserion who daenerys shares the closest bonds with, simply from the consistent contact and affection they keep. daenerys’ feelings and reactions to things rub off on drogon and viserion, with thanks to the emotional and physical connection she shares with them. rhaegal too is capable of picking up on his mothers emotions, though he usually only acknowledges them if they are of threat to viserion. 
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littleeyesofpallas · 4 years ago
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I think in my hurry to get through the one core rant without getting distracted, I didn't actually outline the Hero's Journey's whole proposed psych model in the first place. I don't want to get too into each of the 17 steps, but the idea of the process it reflects is this:
A boy on the cusp of adulthood must leave the comfort of parental protection/provision, whether he wants to or not. He must seek out the "magic" of an older mentor who has seen and mastered the unknown, and through that mentor they learn an entry level skill that will allow them to navigate the world of adults; but this is not "mastery" and it is not "understanding" it is only the bare bones functionality of mimicry. Understanding comes later. This happens, often, while still in the comfort of the "home" realm, where the dangers of the unknown aren't in play yet. Then they leave for real and confront the shock of an unfamiliar world, of autonomy, and responsibility; for the first time in their life, if something goes wrong, no one is there to help them.
Campbell himself posits this next step can go a few different ways. His standard format suggests the Belly of the Whale, the descent into the darkness of not knowing happens at the threshold itself, comes first. That upon confronting the unfamiliar new reality of adulthood the immediate reaction is to be overwhelmed, and only after addressing that immense pressure and aimlessness does the boy get to proceed out into the world at large with the understanding that out here, he can actually die.
But the alternative to this is that the boy goes from the crossing of the threshold directly into the Road of Trials, putting at his his magic aide's skills to use, and learning new ones, until that momentum of that growth and learning plateaus, and then THAT is the moment in which the hero is consumed unto the Belly of the Whale, not when he first confronts a reality that is beyond him, but when he first realizes that it's beyond him; when the arrogance and ignorance of youth gives way to humility. Here he has been facing danger and challenge but only now does he confront the inevitability of death; he cannot keep conquering the unknown forever.
I prefer the Belly-second format, because unlike the Belly-first form's processing of the idea that he can die, this is the fact that he will die; and then what legacy does he leave behind? And this directly motivates his shifting attention toward...
The Goddess Reconciliation is my problematic fav of this whole thing... Campbell and Jung believed deeply in this old fashioned notion of Anima and Animus, that there was some nearly mystical bioessentiallist quality of explicitly segregated Male and Female psyche, and a lot of that doesn't scan great these days. BUT! Of note is that their fixation on this duality came largely out of the idea that the two, being innately separate and at odds, needed to be balanced for a healthy mind to exist. In the psychospiritual spiritual approach to myth this means the Goddess is in fact a man's inner feminine aspect that need to be appeased and made peace with. And that's actually pretty cool, weird inner-cosmological premise to that aside.
But in regards to the myth as guidance, this is also the step in the journey that I just call Respect Women. Because that's what's being taught. This is the moment that the young boy/young man, until recently high on his own power and accomplishments, and his ongoing conquest of the unknown is confronted by a woman of great power. She resides in a realm above him, and for the first time in his quest he cannot conquer his way through this. He MUST speak with, negotiate, and empathize with this woman and her needs in order to win her favor and approval, and sometimes very literally hand in marriage.
This power she holds over him is often pretty literally the ability to have children, tying back into the newfound need to secure legacy that I mentioned in Belly of the Whale. But it can also be inheritance of fortune, positions of power and rulership, etc... in the realms of mythological and fairytale narratives. But it also reflects the internal idea of the joining of Anima and Animus, in that this marriage in one way or another, material or not, must bring him peace of mind.
Then there's the Woman as Temptress phase, which is woefully underused. Granted it can come across as a bit sexist and cliche in many narratives, and it's easy to see how that doesn't feel "essential" to most Hero Journeys, but I think this is incredibly important. Again, I prefer the Belly-second model in which the hero's conquests naturally lead to arrogance (he's on a winning streak, and he is still just a kid doing all this for the first time; he's never known defeat, so how does he even know when to slow his roll?) and this is a repeat of that; he's learned to please one woman, why not use his tried and true method of learning new skills and putting them to use to please more women? And so his loyalty to his Goddess must be tested in order to teach him moving forward.
This is the trope about Prince Charming being a playboy because his only trait is seducing women, not being good to them --see: Utena's Touga, or Into The Wood's Prince brothers. This is where a man learns not to be a fuckboi.
And then the confrontation with The Father. The legendary big Vader moment. But it's not always a violent confrontation, and it's not always innately negative; at times it can even be a somber affair. A boy must learn to stop idolizing his father, and make peace with the truth that his father is just a man, full of flaws like any other. And by reconciling his father as infallible patriarch and the hero's own process of growth, a boy must learn that to succeed in life he must be more than his father is/was. And this tends to become a violent or literal physical conflict when the father in question is both still alive, and the very literal authority that must be overcome in the name of progress. The patriarch has established a system of order that he sees as preserving the safety and security of the world of the known, and he will protect that system even as it begins to fall apart. And as a man, not longer a boy, but a peer to his father the hero has to show the father that he is no longer the unquestioned arbiter and effectively take his place.
In this the boy becomes man, hero attains some kind of enlightenment, sees some deep truth to the world and now knows with some clarity what is best for the world. An arrogant assertion to be sure, but internal to the journey at hand it makes enough sense... Because with this understanding the Hero also discovers or distills the mysteries of this wild realm of the unknown into The Ultimate Boon: a tool or a symbol of the skills learned, that can be replicated or utilized even without the hero's personal level of understanding. And this thing must be delivered back to the mundane so that the next generation of children can use it to expand their realm of the known further into what had before been unknown; each subsequent generation of hero expanding the collective knowledge and understanding of the community as a whole.
And Hero must also often learn selflessness. This kind of comes into play more often when there isn't the innate establishment of a desire to foster a legacy that will out last him. In this case the Hero needs to be talked into going home, because the alternative is that he continues to dwell in this state of perfection. But if he lives out his life like this, he will die as just a singular man rather than the Hero of a people. This in turn motivate the Rescue in which someone has to break into his little bubble of personal accomplishment to bring him back. Yet again his ego must be tested, and he must be humbled.
And then he goes back home, he's a Master of Two Worlds, the known and unknown alike, and he delivers The Boon to the common people so their lives can be made better by it. He earns the Freedom to Live and melds back into a mundane civilian life, as a productive member of his society, as a father, and eventually as a new hero's Magical Aide and old wizened mentor.
Shit.. I let this get away from me and shifted my whole rhetoric halfway in... >:/ My point wasn't to outline the mythic structure but the psychological one. So let me try to just summarize briefly now:
A boy needs to leave the comfort of home. He has to learn many new skills, starting with being taught by a teacher. He has to learn his limitations, finality and fatality. To secure a legacy he seeks a wife; to get a wife he must respect women; to keep a wife he must not be a fukboi. He must be a better father than his was. He must learn to want to give back to his community, and then return with knowledge and/or resources to better said community. He assumes a mundane life, he has kids who will grow up as he did; he'll be their father to overcome, and their mentor to learn from in time.
↑This is the Hero's Journey that Campbell became so fixated on, and that George Lucas maybe kind of oversold and muddled with film savvy, but that the original Star Wars still managed to embody and launch into the public consciousness. This is the Hero's Journey I wish more people would talk about and engage with, rather than the color-by-numbers nonsense that it's been reduced to.
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calligraphist-artemisia · 4 years ago
Text
Soul of a Lion (Chapter 4)
Sequel to The Smallest Blade.
Summary: After the Red Lion steals them away from the Marmora base and takes them through a wormhole, Shiro, Keith, Katla, and Lance find themselves in front of a majestic castle with nowhere to go but inside. The events that unfold while they’re there will change the fate of the universe.
Also posted on AO3 under the username “kishirokitsune”.
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4 | History Revealed
Allura was in good spirits as she made her way to the dining hall, where Coran was already seated and enjoying a heaping plate of food goo. She grimaced at the thought of eating more of it. Food goo was truly an acquired taste and she hoped Hunk was making plans to look into what was available on the planet.
Before she could shuffle off into the royal kitchen for her own plate, Hunk came bustling through the door with a broad grin on his face and a tray carefully balanced in each hand. One of the kitchen droids – a little one nicknamed 'Nikbot' for all of the times Hunk used it to transport picnic supplies – scooted along behind him, beeping in a happy tone as it carried a tray of drinks.
“I made breakfast!” Hunk announced, depositing one tray laden with all kinds of fruits and berries into the center of the table. “Or, well, I found breakfast.”
Nikbot beeped loudly and bumped into his legs.
“Nikbot and I found breakfast,” Hunk amended. “This planet has so much food! We'll be set for phoebs with all of the stuff we found, even with seven of us to feed.”
Allura cleared her throat and held out her hand, allowing her four new friends to scurry down from her shoulder onto the table. “Actually, there are eleven of us. Apparently they shared a pod with me for all of this time! You're looking at the last four genuine Altean mice!”
“Awww,” Hunk cooed.
Coran leaned forward in interest. “Well, hello!”
Allura happily introduced them, starting with the large yellow one (Platt), then the smallest blue one (Chulatt), followed by the skinny greenish-one (Plachu), and finally the pale pink one (Chuchule). She made no mention of her ability to communicate with them – Hunk certainly wouldn't approve of her spying methods, no matter that her intentions were to ensure their safety.
As the mice helped themselves to the array of fruits before them, Allura gladly accepted a steaming cup from Nikbot's tray and took a long, slow sip of the hot beverage. She hummed in pleasure and then surveyed the food, giggling as she witnessed Platt open his mouth wide and fit a whole berry into it. He turned to look at her, his cheeks bulging, and Allura giggled even harder.
“It's good to see you in such high spirits, princess,” Coran remarked as he accepted one of the cold beverages from Nikbot.
“It is going to be a good day, Coran,” Allura said in response. “I thought we could go over our itinerary while we eat. There's a great deal that needs to be done around here and planning is the best way to ensure the important details are accomplished.”
Hunk shifted a little. “I was going to take more food down to the others. I don't think they're fans of the food goo.”
Allura's smile was strained. “Then I shall be brief.” She gently set down her cup and took a deep breath, reminding herself that she needed to give them a chance to prove themselves and that getting angry over it wasn't good for her health. “Our automated systems have kept things in good working order for all of this time, but just in case, I sent out the repair bots last night to see if there's anything that needs our attention. We should have that report once we return to the bridge.
“As long as there isn't anything we need to immediately address, there are tasks that each of us need to complete. Coran, I would like you to check on the engine room. You have the most knowledge and experience in that area and I trust that you'll have it in working order in no time. Hunk, I see you've already begun your work in the kitchens. Once you're certain that the kitchen bots have everything under control, you'll be in charge of the care for our guests. Should Coran need your help in the engine room, he'll call for you.”
She went on to explain that she would be checking in on the crystal chamber, which housed the various power crystals that kept the Castle running. Using her Aspect of Spirit, she would be able to recharge any of the crystals that were running low on energy. It would take her some time to go over all of them, but she predicted to be finished by midday.
After lunch, she would take on the difficult task of speaking with their guests.
Or perhaps she'd only talk to one of them.
Yes, one at a time would be best.
☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆
“They don't really think we'll be content to sit in our rooms all day, do they?” Katla complained as she laid on Shiro's bed and stared at the ceiling.
Next to her, Lance gave a half-hearted shrug. “Maybe it's a test?”
Katla snorted. “If it is, then it's a stupid one.” She sat up suddenly and looked at Shiro and Keith, who were going through a series of warm-up stretches in lieu of their usual morning routine. “If you give me a few doboshes to look over the sensors on our doors, I bet I could disable it without anyone catching on.”
“I think we can offer more patience than that,” Shiro spoke up. He stood up straight and raised his arms above his head as high as he could before relaxing and letting them fall back to his sides. “I don't like feeling stuck either, but we can't blame them for wanting to be cautious. Wouldn't you be, if the situation was reversed?”
“I guess...” Katla reluctantly grumbled and then flopped back down, jostling Lance.
Shiro was right, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear it.
She supposed she was meant to also feel grateful that they were given nice rooms instead of being put into prison cells where their freedom would truly be stripped away. And she was! But that didn't stop the anxiety from kicking in the longer they sat around.
“If we don't see Hunk during lunch then we'll do some exploring on our own,” Shiro said.
Keith looked at him in surprise. “What if we get caught?”
“Well, I've always been good at talking the two of you out of trouble,” Shiro joked with a fond smile.
His comment eased the tension in the room and even Lance cracked a smile – the first Katla had seen from him since their arrival at the castle. It was a smile that immediately fell when they heard a knock at the door.
None of them were surprised to find Hunk standing on the other side.
“I thought you guys might want to get out and see more of the castle,” he said casually.
Katla sat up in an instant, her ears fanned out in excitement. “Can we, Shiro?”
“I suspect I'll have a mutiny on my hands if I say no,” Shiro remarked. “Keith, Lance, what do you two say?”
Lance heaved a sigh but muttered an agreement, while Keith answered by approaching the bed and helping Katla to her feet, which earned him a smile and a kiss on the cheek.
“Everything alright?” she asked quietly.
Keith nodded and turned his head so no one else could see his lips moving as he whispered: “I'll tell you later.”
With everyone in agreement, Hunk began the tour by leading them back to the kitchen and then onto a new branch in the hallway, at the end of which was an elevator. They rode it up three floors and when the doors opened they found themselves in an odd room.
Katla peered around Keith for a better look at the massive console lining the opposite wall, her eyes wide as she took in the startling amount of buttons and switches and the various touch-screens that covered it. Above the module were wide windows that stretched all the way up to the ceiling, through which an even larger and very empty room could be seen. If Katla had to guess, the lower room took up nearly an entire floor on its own.
Shiro stepped forward, his mouth slightly ajar. “Hunk, this is... Are you sure we're allowed to be here?”
“I don't see the harm in it,” Hunk said with a shrug. He waved them in and then walked right up to the console, which lit with a soft glow as he drew closer. “This is the control room for our holo-deck, which you can see down there. You can use it make your own training exercise or use one of the pre-programmed ones, like the electrified invisible maze.”
“But if it's invisible, how do you keep from getting shocked?” Katla asked.
“Oh, well, it's meant to be a teamwork-building thing. One person is up here with a map and can give directions. If you do it well enough, there's no electrocution,” Hunk explained. “Here, let me show you how it works.”
Katla barely refrained from squealing as she pushed past Shiro and Keith so she could get an up close and personal look at how everything worked.
Hunk quickly proved himself a fantastically patient teacher and he answered all of the questions she had, as well as anything Shiro or Keith asked. He walked her through the steps to creating her own program, which turned out to be relatively easy – so easy that she probably could have figured it out half-asleep and with no prior knowledge of what any button did – and then pulled up a full list of every pre-programmed exercise they had. Everything was meticulously labeled and divided into different categories and each program had different levels of difficulty that were clearly noted.
While Shiro and Keith actively participated in the lesson, Lance hung back away from the group, not saying a word but still listening to everything that was being said.
“That's about it,” Hunk told her. “Want to try it out?”
“Yes!” Katla didn't know it was possible for her voice to go that high, but she was too excited to get her hands on Altean tech to really be embarrassed by that fact. (For something so ancient, it was the nicest piece of technology she had ever laid eyes on.)
“Something simple to start out with,” Shiro advised.
Katla barely took notice of what he was saying as she scrolled through the options, oohing and aahing over the possibilities. “Uh huh.”
“Katla, I'm serious.”
“Okay, okay. Something simple,” she promised with a sigh, resisting the urge to call him a killjoy.
Hunk said something about a track, didn't he? One they could put hurdles on for an extra challenge? Katla's fingers hovered over the selection, wondering if it wasn't too simple. The option of an obstacle course was so much more tempting...
Katla selected the track and, with the exception of Lance, they all crowded around the window to watch as the floor of the holo-deck began to warp, twisting parts of itself up into tall squares and rising slightly in the center of the room so there was a clear indentation where they were meant to run.
“So, how do we get down there?” Shiro asked Hunk.
The answer turned out to be pretty simple: there was a second door to the right of the elevator they rode up on and it opened to a moving staircase they could ride down to the holo-deck. Once there, Hunk showed them a secondary control panel.
“You won't be able to change to a different program from here, but you can change the difficulty or move things around. It also has voice recognition that you can use when one of the combat programs are active. It's a built-in safety feature,” Hunk explained.
“This is all so cool,” Katla breathed, looking around the room with a delighted spark in her amber eyes. She grinned and mischievously tapped Keith on the shoulder before sprinting away. “Catch me if you can!”
Keith's grin was a little more feral as he tore off after her.
Katla laughed as she vaulted over the first hurdle. “Shiro, Lance, come on!”
It took a moment for Shiro to talk Lance into running with them, but he eventually agreed and it wasn't long before the four of them were embroiled in a fierce game of tag while Hunk sat back and watched, a smile on his face.
☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆
Shiro was a little wary as he entered the dining room where he was meeting Allura for lunch. After what happened the last time he tried to talk to her, he was understandably uncomfortable about being alone with her, even with Hunk's assurance that she wanted him there.
He hesitated in the doorway when he saw her already seated at the head of the table.
“Shirotak, thank you for joining me,” she said, giving him a strained smile. “Please sit. Our meal will be out shortly.”
Shiro didn't take his eyes off of her as he crossed the room to his seat. “Is it just the two of us, highness?”
“Yes. Coran has a few things he's looking over on the Bridge and will be taking his meal there. I believe Hunk is eating with your friends,” Allura said. “I thought this would be a good opportunity for the two of us to talk and... and I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”
It was the sincerity in her voice that put Shiro more at ease. “Thank you. I can't imagine that it was easy to wake and find yourself surrounded by strangers. Is there anything we can do to help you feel more comfortable?”
“I think getting to talk will help immensely,” Allura responded. “But first, we should eat.”
As if on cue, a pair of kitchen droids rolled into the room and served each of them a plate of food. Shiro was glad that there wasn't a single spoonful of food goo in sight. (But then again, Hunk had told them there was plenty of fresh food to be found on the planet, so was it really such a surprise?)
Shiro waited until Allura took her first bite and then dug into his.
Most of their meal was spent in silence, but Shiro didn't mind the time to think over all of the things he wanted to say to her, as well as to determine what he was allowed to say. Obviously, he'd have to reveal a few things. There was only so long they could keep the Blade of Marmora a secret before someone started to get suspicious, though he was pretty sure he could get away with only hinting towards a secret organization for the moment.
By the time they finished eating, Shiro had most of a plan. For the rest, he'd just have to wing it.
“I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to join me,” Allura said as the droids cleared away their empty plates. “The truth is, I don't know what to think about this whole situation. I know there's a reason why the Red Lion brought you here, but I don't understand why it's specifically the four of you. The original paladins all knew each other beforehand, so maybe that's part of the prerequisite? But that doesn't explain why there are only four of you and not five...” She trailed off, her gaze distant.
Shiro wondered how much of that she really meant to say. After a few ticks had passed and she didn't continue speaking, he said “I don't have an answer for that.”
Allura blinked and sat up a little straighter as she refocused on the conversation. “Then perhaps a question that you will be able to answer: do you know how the war began?”
“Growing up, I was taught that the Altean king declared war upon the Galra when he ordered the destruction of Daibazaal and that the retaliation of Zarkon and his forces was justified. I later learned that it was all a lie, but we don't know the full truth of things either,” Shiro paused, watching as Allura's expression softened from outright rage to simple indignation.
“My father was a general in Zarkon's army. My mother was convinced of the might and righteousness of the Empire, like many are, and she raised me to believe the same. It was something she believed in until they tried to take me from her.
“It's tradition for the firstborn to begin training at a young age. More than tradition, actually. It's an unspoken requirement that most follow without question. My mother hoped that because of my father's status as a general, as well as the fact that I was the only cub she was able to have, they would allow me to stay with her instead. The army disagreed. My mother ran and took me with her. She didn't get far.”
Shiro hadn't intended on divulging his past to her, but judging from the horrified expression on Allura's face, it was the right way to go. At least she was listening.
“That was the day my faith in the Empire was broken. From that moment on, I began to see them as they truly were and I did everything in my power to become too troublesome to keep around. I knew that one day I would be too old to stay in training and they would send me out whether they thought I was ready or not. When that day came, I would be able to sneak away and they would be too thankful that I was gone to go looking for me. But then came a day when I did something exceptionally... foolish.
“I saved the life of a commanding officer. I can't even say why I did it. In-fighting is common in the Empire and it's not unusual for them to be to the death, but when I saw someone try to sneak up behind her I just... moved. It's how I earned this,” Shiro tapped the bridge of his nose, where his scar cut across. “In return, Ranzaria saved me from my destructive spiral, and eventually, she introduced me to a group dedicated to ending Zarkon's reign of fear and subjugation. I've been with them ever since.”
“Shirotak, I... I'm so sorry,” Allura murmured.
“It was a long time ago, highness, and I would not be the person I am today had I not gone through those experiences,” Shiro said. “But back to your original question, no one knows how the war truly began. The Empire has done everything in their power to obscure the truth and anyone who did know died a long time ago. At least, until the three of you woke up.”
Allura bit her lip and lowered her gaze to the table. “We were allies, once. It... it is true that my father ordered the destruction of Daibazaal, but it was not intended to be an act of war, but of prevention. Sometime before I was born, a meteor struck the surface of Daibazaal and when it was extracted, it revealed a terrible rift that penetrated deep into the core of the planet. For a while, it merely seemed to be an anomaly and was carefully studied by a few hand-picked alchemists, but as time went on they began to realize that it was destabilizing the entire planet. Left unchecked, the rift would have eventually ripped Daibazaal apart and, after that, continued to spread to encompass the entire universe. Destroying Daibazaal was the only way to seal it and prevent such a catastrophe.”
Shiro frowned. “I feel like I'm missing something. Shouldn't it have been up to Zarkon to give that order?”
“Unfortunately, it was not our first attempt at closing the rift.”
Shiro quietly listened as Allura told the whole sad story about trying to use something called “Voltron” to seal the rift and how they had only succeeded in increasing it tenfold, as well as costing the lives of two people – Emperor Zarkon and his wife, Empress Honerva. In the midst of the chaos left from Zarkon's death, King Alfor did his best to maintain control and used his role as head of the Galactic Alliance to order the evacuation and destruction of Daibazaal.
“Had the situation been reversed, it would have been well within Zarkon's rights to do the same,” Allura said, though it pained her to admit it. “Of course, everything went wrong after that. Zarkon was somehow resurrected. My father thought it had something to do with the rift, though we never knew for certain. He declared war on Altea and the rest of our alliance, destroying each of us one-by-one.”
She clenched her hands and glared at the surface of the table. “I never imagined the war would go on for so long. I- I should have fought harder to use the Lions and fight back! If I'd only tried a little harder-!” Her voice broke as a single tear fell from her eyes. She furiously wiped it away and lifted her head. “No longer. This is our second chance and I will not let it go by. I want to know where you stand, Shirotak.”
“We stand against Zarkon and his forces,” Shiro answered, meeting her eyes. “We stand with you.”
☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆
Coran knew that he promised Allura that he wouldn't pull an all-nighter to reconfigure the navigation system, but what harm would it do to check on one last little thing while the system sorted itself off. It wasn't like he'd be able to sleep until he knew why the holo-deck was using extra energy anyway. He'd just pop over to the control room for a quick look and then go to bed.
He looked around the Bridge one last time, checked the progress bar for the seventh time in as many doboshes, and then reluctantly left to begin his trek to his room.
The holo-deck was only a brief detour on his path and Coran swore that he wouldn't stay long. He entered the command room and had to take a moment to comprehend what he was seeing. It was more than just a little problem. The console was fully activated, as though someone was running a program at that very moment.
“Impossible!” Coran said, rushing forward. Allura had gone to bed vargas ago and Hunk wasn't known for skipping out on sleep, or for frequenting the holo-deck. He was about to begin methodically shutting everything down when he happened to glance through the window and into the room below.
Two of the Galra were there. One was the boy with unusual black hair and the other was the girl. They were playing around on one of the climbing courses, occasionally dropping to a cushioned mat below in order to start all over.
Coran found himself relaxing the longer he watched them play. It was as they dropped to the mat at the same time and began a game of chase across the floor, breathlessly giggling, that Coran realized it was an oddly familiar sight.
A long time ago, he'd been blessed enough to witness the beginning of a truly great romance. It was one full of laughter and life and only grew more beautiful once Alfor was able to catch his beloved princess. A love that was cut tragically short.
In the room below, the boy caught up to the girl and pulled her into his arms. His balance must have gotten knocked off because they went down in a tangled heap, huge smiles upon their faces.
Coran couldn't bring himself to interrupt. Eventually, he dragged himself away from the window and off to his room. His dreams that night were full of his memories of happier days when Alfor wasn't yet king and still trying to find the right way to woo the future queen.
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the-final-sif · 5 years ago
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Just read you recent think on Mitsuki, and while I agree with some things, you're forgetting a lot. Like how Mitsuki is so ready to trust UA cuz Aizawa seems to understand Katsuki. Or how, in the first ep flashback, Katsuki just got praise for his 'stupid awesome quirk' without deserving that praise. Or, you know, how Katsuki got to the point in middle school where he was telling Izuku to jump off a building? And the sports festival? Katsuki probably would have laughed if it hadn't been him.
I’m not forgetting any of that, they’re all things that have been taken into consideration and either aren’t important to the situation, or are part of what I’m talking about.
To break this down,
1)
I don’t care if she thinks that UA “understands” Katsuki, her child was kidnapped and held hostage for 2 days, and forced to fight for his life multiple times against several adult villains. The only thing that stopped the villians from murdering/torturing/turning Katsuki into a nomu/etc, was that they decided not to during that 2 day period. Even if she’s willing to forgive UA/Aizawa and understands that the situation was bad by all accounts, she could still show at least a little concern for her child’s physical and mental safety after he was kidnapped. The idea that she really believes a school “understanding” Katsuki and not praising him too much is more important then the fact he got kidnapped for and was held by villains for 2 days, speaks volumes on it’s own.
Also, it’s worth noting that Aizawa and UA do not understand Katsuki. They fail him multiple times, and call out in canon that they did so. Including; The Sports Festival, The kidnapping, & the aftermath of the kidnapping. Even going so far as to say that they neglected his mental health, in canon. They’ve messed up with him multiple times, and while it’s good that Aizawa doesn’t let him get away with bullshit, that doesn’t mean that they’ve done much to help him either.
2)
Yes, Katsuki got a lot of praise as a child. I could talk for ages about gifted child syndrome and how that built up unrealistic expectations on him such that he believes he’s not allowed to make mistakes and takes responsibility for way to much as a result. However, this isn’t something I forgot in my original post. In my original post, the point was that Mitsuki acts/talks about it in such a way that implies that just sort of happened, when in reality that is on her and Marasu for not parenting Katsuki correctly. If they had raised him better, taught him to be kinder to others, put him into anger management/therapy, taught him how to handle his emotions in a health way, etc, he would be a much different person. But they didn’t, yet she still talks about it like she had no hand in it.
Also, again, as I said in my original post, a big part of this is timing. If this was just a PTA meeting or something, I’d have a very different opinion on this entire thing. But that’s not what this is. This is a meeting right after he got kidnapped, at a point where he likely still very shaken from the experience, and where he’s likely being dealing with a lot of negative media attention online. If there is any point in his life where he needs support from his parents, this is that time. I don’t care if he’s been a shitty kid in his life, right after he just got kidnapped is a time when he needs love and support from his parents. Not them talking about how shitty he is to his teachers while he’s still trying to recover from that.
3)
That really has no baring on the conversation, at all. Was Katsuki telling Izuku to jump off a building unacceptable? Yes. However, neither Katsuki’s parents, nor Aizawa/All-Might have any idea that that event transpired. It’s called out in canon that what happened that day was unusual for Katsuki, that was not a normal interaction between him and Izuku. It was also something that happened when Katsuki was 14, ~2 ish years prior to the conversation I’m talking about.
Katsuki was an asshole, particularly to Izuku, when he was a kid. He still has a lot of those tendencies. That in no way negates the fact that after he was kidnapped is a wildly inappropriate time to start ragging on his flaws, alongside blaming him for getting kidnapped in the first place. Instead, that’s the sort of thing to be worked on through therapy and teaching over time. Or just, to be talked about at any other time besides right after he got kidnapped. 
Also, it might be worth reflecting on why he was an asshole, where he learned to behave that way, and why he considers his own words/actions acceptable. Because as it turns out, kids don’t develop those habits out of thin air.
4)
Here’s the thing, you can say that Katsuki would be laughing if it was anyone but him chained up at the sports festival, but I’d argue that he wouldn’t, because nobody else would ever be chained up at the sports festival. Neither the school, nor the author, could ever get away with that for any other student in class 1-A. If Shouto had refused to use his fire on Izuku, causing Izuku to win the fight and Izuku to follow him out of bounds in frustration and reject the first place medal, we all know damn well that he would’ve been allowed to walk away from it. Hell, we actually see Ojiro resigning after round 2 because he felt like he hadn’t earned his win, and he was allowed to do that without any issue. The only one who isn’t given the right to say no, and the only one who would ever be chained up to that podium is Katsuki.
And that comes down to the fact that because Katsuki refuses a lot of things, both on a character and reader level, people stop caring about whether or not he consents to things. They get used to forcing him to do things, and so that becomes normal and acceptable. He’s seen and portrayed as inheritable violent, uncontrollable, and “bad” which means they treat him in ways that would never be acceptable for other characters, and it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy as he sees himself that way. This happens on every level, be it touch, the sports festival, izuku following him around, etc. Katsuki is basically never respected when he tries to say no to something unless he steadfastly enforces that boundary through physical force.
That’s why Aizawa calls out what happened at the sports festival as a failure on UA’s part. Because that’s what it was.
That’s also why we see Tomura with the photo of Katsuki at the sports festival, and why Tomura thought Katsuki would join him. Tomura understands what it’s like to be seen and treated as monstrous, to be seen and treated as fundamentally destructive and dangerous, and he assumed that Katsuki would want to join him to be free of that.
When Tomura has restraints taken off Katsuki when asking him to make his choice, it’s because he understands how Katsuki’s been treated, and he’s playing to that. He explicitly says that they need to treat Katsuki as an equal, and to prove that he means that, the restraints have to come off. He also calls out that he’s not worried about Katsuki fighting back, because he believes Katsuki is smarter then that (which was a miscalculation on his part, not because Katsuki isn’t smart enough to know not to fight back, but because he underestimated Katsuki’s convictions and personal morals).
What Tomura is doing there is a very significant and important demonstration. He’s showing Katsuki through actions, that he is willing to treat him like a human being, even if the heroes aren’t. Tomura is showing basic respect for Katsuki, however undermined by the kidnapping it may be, moreso then his teachers/the heroes did, by allowing him his freedom when making a choice. Perhaps even more important, he’s showing that he sees Katsuki as capable of restraining himself, and of being non-destructive. What he’s really offering Katsuki there is proof that he is willing to treat him better then the heroes did, and that’s why he believes Katsuki will join him.
Anyways, the long and the short of it is that no, I did not forget any of that when I was making my prior post. I did consider all of those things on some level, and they don’t change my opinion that how Mitsuki behaved after the kidnapping is indicative of her being a bad parent, and that were this another character or if the gender roles of the situation were reversed, then I feel strongly that this wouldn’t even be a debate in the fandom.
That being said, who knows what direction canon will takes this. I’m hopeful that the issue will be explored more thoroughly, but we may very well never see Mitsuki in canon again. I’m also not saying that anyone else has to agree with me. My own opinions are not universal truth, and we really have very little canon interactions with Mitsuki and know so little about Katsuki’s childhood in general that nearly anything is possible. I can definitely appreciate Good Parent Mitsuki headcanons, and I’ve read some great fics with those sorts of takes. But my opinion on the matter is the above.
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signs-of-the-moon · 4 years ago
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Moon Rise: Chapter 50
"Look, they've come back!" Lightpaw exclaimed as Whitestar and the rest of her patrol made their way into Grassclan's camp. At the young apprentice's call, the rest of the clan had begun to gather around, eager to hear news of what came from the meeting with Treeclan.
"Well? What did Blazestar have to say for himself?" Chicorynose asked, tail wagging with anxiety.
"We are to settle this war the day after tomorrow," Whitestar responded, body tense. Swiftcloud flanked one of her sides and could feel the leader's dread through her fur. It was almost overwhelming. If her clanmates were not pressed so closely around them, Swiftcloud would have withdrawn to calm herself.
"Which means we only have a short time to prepare," Chicorynose murmured, eyes darkening.
Whitestar nodded, looking at each of her warriors as she spoke. "For the rest of the day, up until sundown tomorrow, I want every able bodied cat to train. We must ensure our skills are sharp so that we may claim our victory."
And so that we don't lose any more warriors, Swiftcloud added in her mind, figuring the same thought might be running through Whitestar's. She gave the leader a glance, able to tell her prediction to be true by the turmoil on the other molly's siamese face.
"I'll send everyone out, then." Chicorynose turned, already prepared to order partners and apprentices to team up and get to work.
Swiftcloud and the others on her patrol had been dismissed from training for the evening. They'd be on a long journey, and Whitestar knew all too well the dread it had caused them all. Swiftcloud was grateful for the break, although she didn't allow her time to be wasted. She wanted her skills as sharp as the rest of the clan's, especially after being unconscious for three days.
Across the camp, Swiftcloud spotted one of her mates laying beside the fresh-kill pile. Shadowfang looked to be at peace, having a rest after being out at The Dip battle training with Quailbelly and Thornpaw. Swiftcloud almost felt bad to disturb him. But a mischievous idea crossed through her mind. One that she knew she couldn't pass up.
"Hey, Shadowfang?" she meowed, drawing her mate's attention as she padded over to him.
Shadowfang glanced up at Swiftcloud, gnawing on the leftovers from his dinner. He gave his lips a satisfied smack, then sat up straight to acknowledge the white and black patched she-cat. "Yeah?"
Swiftcloud smiled innocently, wiggling her nubby tail. Before Shadowfang could comment on her odd behavior, she threw herself onto him, mouthing at his ear and tugging on it playfully. She pushed with all of her strength, trying to flatten the him to the ground. Shadowfang squirmed beneath her, swinging his head side to side in an attempt to throw her off his back.
"Hey, quit it!" Shadowfang hissed, laughter in his voice. He rolled over a little, batting at Swiftcloud's whiskers. Swiftcloud growled at him playfully, leading to her being squashed by the larger cat's flank. Swiftcloud squealed, wiggling from beneath the black tom. She jumped up momentarily, allowing Shadowfang to spring to his paws. He turned, pouncing onto his mate so her could nibble on her shoulder, giving her ear a cuff. "Take that!"
"Foolish Shadowclan cat, I'll make crowfood of you!" Swiftcloud yowled dramatically.
"Foolish, am I?" Shadowfang played along. "That is where you're wrong. You'll never defeat me, Swiftstar. For I, Shadowstar, am the most powerful clan leader in the world!"
"We'll see about that!" Swiftcloud retorted, rolling onto her back. She kicked up at Shadowfang's underbelly, with claws sheathed, trying hard to throw him off of her. Shadowfang continued to nibble on her shoulder and neck, earning thrill filled squeals from the patched molly. With one more effort filled kick, Swiftcloud managed to move Shadowfang from on top of her. She scrambled to get paws, darting away from the tom with a taunt. Shadowfang growled playfully, crouching to the floor. Her pelted after his mate a heartbeat later, gaining on her with ease. He pounced once more, tussling with her on the grassy floor. Squeaks and trills of laughter floated in the air between them as they rolled, their witty banter growing more and more dramatic. It felt good to play around with Shadowfang again like this. It reminded Swiftcloud of one of the reasons why she'd fallen in love with him. She enjoyed his playful spirit. Shadowfang never failed to make feel young and free. And though Swiftcloud was already both of these things, she knew that she'd truly felt this way whenever Shadowfang was around. To her, Shadowfang was joy; he was an adventure waiting to happen and a life full of experience. To Swiftcloud, Shadowfang was home.
"What in the name of the earth and stars are you two up to?" A voice called out to the playful mates, gaining both of their attention. Swiftcloud glanced at the cat who had spoken them, a bright smile blooming on her muzzle.
"Play fighting!" She chriped. "Care to join us, Misty?" She invited.
Mistyleaf shook her head, rolling her eyes playfully. "Silly furballs," she mewed as he booped Swiftcloud's nose, cuffing Shadowfang over the ear when he sat up. "How about we share tongues instead? Then you can tell Shadowfang and I all about your visit to Treeclan," Mistyleaf proposed.
Swiftcloud perked up the idea, agreeing without a second thought. The mates padded over to the edge of the clearing, entangling themselves with one another while they talked and groomed. During their chat, Swiftcloud's thoughts would wander. She realized while Shadowfang represented a life of freedom and fun, Mistyleaf stood for comfort. The silver molly was safety, trustworthiness, and softness. She was the calmness in the calamity. The voice of reason. To Swiftcloud, Mistyleaf was sanctuary. And together, both her and Shadowfang were the pure definition of love. Swiftcloud knew she could never adore any other cats more.
The moon soon climbed to its peak in the sky, summoning hard working warriors home, and putting them to sleep. Swiftcloud, Shadowfang and Mistyleaf rose from their resting place padding into the warriors' den. They settled back down together in their shared nest, passing on wishes of good rest and sweet dreams before closing their eyes until morning light.
When dawn graced the clearing the following day, Chicorynose and Tigerfang were all too eager to rouse everyone in the clan from their collective slumber.
"Up, up, up! Let's get out there and work our tails off. We only have a short time left before the great battle!" Chicorynose caterwauled, earning a collection of groans. "I've already taken the liberty of gathering the apprentices in the clearing. Go and grab your 'Paws and partners, let's head out."
"I'll see you two later," Shadowfang said to the mollies in his nest. He stood up, giving his shoulder a few licks. "I'm gonna take Thornpaw and Lightpaw out to the Mountainclan border today, with Frostfeather and Pansypaw. Actually-- Swiftcloud, do you wanna come along with your apprentice?"
"No thanks, I already have plans to bring Tulippaw and Tabitha to The Dip today," Swiftcloud replied, standing with a stretch. Shadowfang shrugged, muttering out a "fair enough" before he padding out of the den.
Swiftcloud bid him an extra farewell, turning to groom Mistyleaf.
Mistyleaf purred gratefully, nudging Swiftcloud with her muzzle. "You should go too. And I've got to help Goldensong prepare herbs."
Swiftcloud whined slightly but ultimately agreed. She gave Mistyleaf one last lick on the cheek before heading out of the warriors' den, ready to get the day started. A chilly wind ruffled her short fur as she emerged into the open. Her pawpads tingled from the cold ground beneath them, making her take careful steps as she made her way over to her apprentices.
Tulippaw trilled as Swiftcloud approached, rushing forward to tuck her head under her mentor's chin.
"I missed you!" She practically yowled, a wetness pooling at the edges of her eyes as she pulled away to look at Swiftcloud. Swiftcloud purred, licking the younger molly between the ears. She was well aware that Tulippaw had caught wind of the lie Snowfrost told. That Swiftcloud might not last the next quarter moon. Tulippaw had already lost one mentor. Though they were not close, Ambereye's death had still effected her. Starclan only knew how broken Tulippaw would become if anything ever happened to Swiftcloud. Luckily, Swiftcloud had no plans on dying any time soon. She was healthy again, and strong. She was determined to prove that to the brown and white she-cat. To give her the reassurance she needed.
"Alright, 'Paws, let's head out," Chicorynose meowed as she padded over to the apprentices. She turned, noticing the other she-cat besides the group. "Oh Swiftcloud! Are you tagging along?"
"I was actually planning on taking the apprentices myself today," she mewed in response. It has been a while since she had gotten to train Tulippaw. And she hadn't gotten the chance to assess Tabitha's skills just yet.
"Oh really? Where were you planning to go?"
"The Dip," Swiftcloud explained her idea for the day. She was willing to go into greater detail, if it meant she could convince Chicorynose to let her have the apprentices.
"What a coincidence! That's where I had planned to take them. How about we all go together then?" Chicorynose proposed. Swiftcloud thought about it for a heartbeat, agreeing to the plan rather quickly. It had been some moons since she'd been out training with her own mentor. And though she had graduated from her apprentice training, she still appreciated any lessons Chicorynose would still give. Tulippaw and Tabitha seemed excited by the plan, racing over to the bramble tunnel ahead of the warriors. Swiftcloud and Chicorynose chased after them, rushing to keep up as they made their way across the meadow. The wind grew more bitter as they hurried along, making Swiftcloud pray for the fresh warmth of Newleaf to grace the Land's Star sooner rather than later.
Eventually, the Dip came into their line of sight. It welcomed the Grassclan cats to its sandy center as they made their way down it's steep slopes. The walls of The Dip provided some shelter from the wind as the four mollies settled within the heart of it. Swiftcloud was grateful for the protection and knew she'd feel warmer just as soon as they would begin training.
"You're in charge today, Swiftcloud. Let's see what kind of training regimen you've got set up for these two hyperactive apprentices," Chicorynose commented.
Swiftcloud nodded, looking at each young cat in turn. She thought for a moment about the best course of action before speaking; "Tulippaw, you and Chicorynose will spar first. Afterwards, I'll be assessing Tabitha's skills. Then the two of you will practice some advanced techniques together, while Chicorynose and I train."
"Awesome!!" Tulippaw perked up at the chance to show off her skills. Tabitha and Swiftcloud shuffled off to the sidelines, keeping away from all the action that was about to unfold. Swiftcloud watched Chicorynose pad across the ditch, turning tail to face her opponent. Tulippaw stepped close to the center, eyes narrowed to focus on the other cat in front of her.
"Alright, Tulip, give me everything you've got." The deputy challenged.
Instantly Tulippaw dropped into a crouch, flexing her claws in excitement. Chicorynose mirrored her stance, stalking the apprentice around the base of The Dip, ready to pounce or defend at any given moment. Tulippaw watched her aunt carefully, eyeing her legs specifically. Chicorynose took notice and dropped down to protect herself, probably thinking she'd already bested the warrior in training.
Be careful of your line of sight; never give away your target with your glance, Swiftcloud was prepared to say, waiting for the apprentice to try and sweep her faux enemy's feet from under her.
But the attack never came. Instead, Tulippaw leaped without warning, springing onto Chicorynose's back. She scraped her paws against the older molly's flanks with sheathed claws, yowling out a battle cry. She'd managed to throw Chicorynose off her guard.
Well done.
Chicorynose fought to get Tulippaw off her back, gaining the upper paw for half a heartbeat when Tulippaw willing let her go. But as the brown and white molly's front paws touched the ground, she turned, kicking her back legs out. This pushed Chicorynose forward, knocking off her balance. She struggled to keep herself from toppling, widening her stance to catch herself. Tulippaw turned once more to smirk.
"Not bad," Chicorynose praised. Without another word she surged forward, swiping at Tulippaw's face. She changed paws every few heartbeats in an attempt to distract the apprentice. Tulippaw did her best to dodge the blows, getting hit once or twice. Though she managed to maneuver or block most of them. But Swiftcloud knew Chicorynose didn't really care whether Tulippaw took damage from her attack. What she was really after was backing her opponent into a corner. It was a technique Swiftcloud knew well, having been subjected to it often during her own apprentice training.
Tulippaw took a pace away each time Chicorynose swiped. Eventually, she ended up with her rear pinned again The Dip's wall. Chicorynose took this oppurtunity to pounce, slamming her body into Tulippaw's. Tulippaw hit the wall with a thud, sliding against it as she collapsed on the floor. She wasn't injured-Chicorynose would never have hit Tulippaw that hard-but the impact was enough to throw her off her paws. The deputy then set herself upon the younger she-cat, effectively pinning her. After struggling to get out of her aunt's grip, Tulippaw finally went limp in defeat.
"Great try," Swiftcloud purred as Chicorynose let Tulippaw sit up. She padded over to her apprentice, nubby tail held high. "Yknow you almost had her for a heartbeat. But you weren't paying much attention to your surroundings. A Grassclan warrior must always be aware of what's going on around them, from the ground to the sky. Many predators and cats will try to take advantage of you by attacking from unexpected directions. Or by tricking you into a spot you can't escape from. You have to always be guarded, and clever. Other than that, your blows hit hard, which is good, and your fighting stance is almost flawless. I'm very proud of your progress. You're going to be great tomorrow."
Tulippaw beamed, her glee as bright as the Greenleaf sun. She stood to shake some dust from her pelt, then gave a little bounce.
"Do you think I'll make a good warrior someday?" She asked hopefully.
"'Good?' No." Swiftcloud smirked. "I bet you're going to be one of the greatest warriors Grassclan's ever known. With enough training you'll end up being the best Fighter. If that's the job you choose to have. And you're already a very good hunter!"
Tulippaw giggled, giving her mentor a lick on the shoulder respectfully.
Swiftcloud turned. "Alright, Tabitha, it's your turn now. Let's see what Chicorynose has taught you recently."
"Really?" Tabitha seemed unsure. "But I thought I didn't have to fight in the battle tomorrow?"
"Of course you don't. But it's always good to test your skills. Even without your claws, you need to know how to defend yourself. If not for anyone else's sake, then for the kits and queens."
"For the kits and queens... Alright, I'll give it a try." Tabitha padded to the middle of The Dip, trading places with Tulippaw. She didn't seem nervous, despite previous hesitation. But she certainly seemed uncomfortable. Tulippaw wrapped her tail around Tabitha's briefly, giving it a reassuring shake before she moved to settle at the edge of The Dip besides Chicorynose.
Chicorynose lifted a forepaw to wrap around the apprentice's neck, pulling her close to her fluffy chest. With her free paw, she rubbed her niece's head playfully, earning yowls of protest as the young cat struggled to get away.
Swiftcloud chuckled seeing the two of them play, directing her attention back onto Tabitha soon after. She decided she would be taking it easy on the pregnant apprentice. But not enough to where she would be unable to learn. And certainly not to a point where Tulippaw may assume the queen was being coddled.
"Ready?" Swiftcloud checked as she watched the plump queen drop into a fighting stance.
Tabitha nodded curtly. "Whenever you are."
Swiftcloud dashed off from her spot immediately as the challenge began, running around Tabitha, trying to use her weight against her. Her growing belly made her slow, which granted Swiftcloud a bit of an advantage. Tabitha swung around to keep up, kicking out a back leg in order to defend herself. She managed to land a hit, shoving Swiftcloud away by a mouse-length. Then she turned like a snake, baring her fangs as if to warn her enemy of her sharp bite.
Swiftcloud rushed ahead without hesitation, throwing a front paw blow at the plump brown and white tabby. Tabitha caught Swiftcloud's paw in her mouth, biting down on it and pulling her second mentor closer to herself. Swiftcloud let out an astonished shriek, finding herself crushed beneath Tabitha's weight as she was pulled closer to her body. Swiftcloud swung wildly beneath the apprentice, hitting her with her paws in a mock scratch. Tabitha's heft pressed her opponent harder against the earth, her teeth fastening themselves into Swiftcloud's scruff. When the warrior had tired herself out, the training queen pulled her out from under herself, throwing the patched molly across The Dip with little effort. Swiftcloud narrowly avoided hitting the opposite wall, skidding to a half just a whisker-length in front of it. She smirked over at Tabitha, panting to catch her breath.
"You're a fast learner," she remarked, recalling how little time the apprentice queen had been part of the clan.
Tabitha lifted her head proudly. "With two of the clan's best warriors as my mentors, it's easy for me to learn."
"I think that's enough sparring for you two today," Chicorynose meowed, stepping forward. "Why don't you go practice some moves with Tulippaw now, Tabitha? I think my old apprentice may need a refresher course in the meantime."
Swiftcloud perked at the deputy's comment, an excited smile blooming on her muzzle. She did feel a little embarrassed, being beaten by a cat who'd only been training for a moon. She was more than happy to take on another lesson by her beloved mother figure. "Yeah!"
Tabitha and Chicorynose traded off, ready to face their new opponents without apprehension. Swiftcloud immediately dropped into a stance, bracing herself for whatever the deputy may throw at her.
The four mollies trained until the sun began to dip towards the horizon. Their bodies ached from a successful day of working by the time they climbed from the confines of the Dip. Swiftcloud was confident that the group was prepared for what tomorrow's battle may bring. But for the time being, all she would let herself focus on was getting home and resting. Worrying about the war's end could wait for her until sunrise.
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mzenvs3000 · 4 years ago
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So does this make me an interpreter now?
If I am honest, I feel I have had a love hate relationship with this course over this semester. Coming from a more scientific background, I have found it slightly difficult to find the motivation to write and put together “my thoughts” on the topics we discuss in class. I am so used to having explicit facts and having to write about those from a scientific approach, so trying to put together a post about my thoughts with such freedom has been a challenge. I have appreciated though throughout the semester how writing got a bit easier, and that we were able to talk on subjects that were interesting to us. I will definitely be taking some skills away from my time in this course.
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One of many photos taken of water and rocks (Lake Ontario) as it is another huge love of mine. Photo taken by myself.
Like many who are taking part in this class have a love for nature, and are probably coming from a major with some type of nature encompassed in it. This is true in my case, as I am a wildlife biology and conservation student. Wildlife biology and conservation is just one side of my love for nature. Others include marine studies, geology, and  geography/landforms. This would open up so many doors in the nature interpretation field for me. I also have passion for the care and protection of animals, species at risk, climate change, plastic pollution, and how humans interact with nature in their everyday lives, similar to Jacob Rodenburg who wrote the article, “Why Environmental Educators Shouldn’t Give up Hope.”
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A shell fossil found in a rock at the Elora Gorge while on a field trip with my geography class in third year. We were trying to interpret the history of the area, guessing it was a marine environment from all of the marine fossils found in the rocks. Photo taken by myself. 
As an interpreter, I feel there is a certain responsibility I have when working with an audience. The first responsibility being the need to deliver creditable information that your audience can trust. This struck me as important when we were learning about nature interpretation in history. This is something I always seek out when learning about different things because I want to make sure what I’m learning is true and has some merit behind it.
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I took my Alberta friend on a Hamilton waterfall tour as she did not believe me when I told her Hamilton was the waterfall capital of the world. An example of one of my first “interpretation tours.” (She was impressed). Photo taken by Jenna Stetz.
Another important responsibility is for the interpreter to put their own spin on their presentation and make it personal. I have lost count of the number of presentations I’ve had to listen to when someone is just reading off of a slide or a card. I don’t know about you, but I feel like when I hear these kinds of presentations, the presenter doesn’t really care too much and doesn’t seem to care if their audience gets a good experience or not. I always learn better and pay attention the most if someone shares a personal story that relates to the content. An example of this was recently I was in a course that was preparing me to apply to be a fire ranger this summer. I could instantly tell that my instructor was passionate about his job as a fire ranger with the number of stories he would tell. One story was to emphasize the importance of safety. He told the story about him and two other crew members messing around while chopping down some small trees to kill time, and they made a competition around it. His crew leader decided to take part and wasn’t paying attention and ended up getting an axe in his shin. He made this boring 2 hour long safety module more interesting and engaging by telling this story. When putting your own spin on it, it allows the audience to engage much more, as well as being relatable.
One last responsibility I feel is of importance is that as interpreters we have almost like a duty to pass on knowledge of certain things, not allowing them to be forgotten about. I take great pride in this, knowing that I might have an influence on the future “me’s” one day to share this information with others. We have to remember we are not just passing on knowledge of the environment and nature, but also cultural beliefs and practices too. I mentioned in a previous post about how it is important to learn from the past, and we cannot do this unless we actually know what happened in the past. I personally love just even sharing my scientific and nature knowledge with my friends and family who do not have this as a background, and take pride in the fact that I am able to help educate them on this subject.
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Photo of my mom and I at the cottage, as she is making sure I was exposed to the outdoors as early as possible. Photo taken by my dad, Dave Zarnke.
An approach that I would make sure to include in my interpretation is to be able to share with a diverse audience. This would include different age categories, different cultural backgrounds, different knowledge backgrounds and understanding on the subject, as well as learning styles that people possess. This is important to consider because knowing these different factors would affect how you would conduct the presentation to make it the most effective. With different ages there is a different level of understanding so when I would present something to a younger audience, I would make sure to use lots of examples and simple terms they could easily understand, compared to an older audience where I could potentially use more complex terms and concepts. Knowing the cultural and knowledge backgrounds may also determine the content you wish to speak on and the approach you take.
Personally I am a visual and tactile learner, and find it easiest to teach and interpret in this way. During an interpretation I would probably include many visual aids such as photos, videos, and live models to share with the audience. I would encourage the audience to take part in demonstrations and actively participate throughout the presentation. I have also found that through my school life I learn best when examples are given, or thought provoking questions are asked. When information is presented in this way it helps me to compare an example to real life and make those connections, and the thought provoking questions challenge me to take time to digest and organize all that I have learned to put it all together.
Something I think that may set me a part from many interpreters is what I believe and my faith. I am a christian (and like to think of myself as a christian scientist) which can be quite difficult at some times trying to study my major in a secular setting due to different beliefs. The main one would be how the world was created. I believe that there is one true God who created this world, everything in it, and the species we see today are the same and looked the same when the world was created 6000 years ago. This belief and faith of mine plays a huge role in my life, influencing most and if not all of my decisions, so it would be important to me to include this in my interpretations. I would not share or teach others something that I don’t believe in. This would probably lead to me interpreting to a different audience or have a different approach in my interpretations as these beliefs are not the same as what secular science believes and teaches, as well as most organizations. If this were to be a career of mine I would have to work for an organization whose beliefs are the same.
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Photo of the Oakville waterfront taken from a walk with friends one afternoon after church. Photo taken by myself. 
I believe that as an interpreter, I would ensure to create programs specifically directed towards kids because I have experienced the benefits of taking part in these programs personally. We have learned a bit about how technology is a double edged sword. On one hand, it can be a great tool for nature interpretation, playing sounds, videos, or even in our case currently creating podcasts we can share over the internet. The downfall is that they are also causing people and especially kids to be very disconnected these days. I have lost count the number of times I will see kids with their parents just out and about, completely ignoring their parents just fully consumed in what is on their screen, and these kids are as young as even four years old. I didn’t know what a computer was til I was way older than that, and never received one myself until even later. I think it is so important to raise awareness of these environmental issues to kids and get them involved so they gain interest early in life and can be a part of the solution for their generation.
Before this course I really never pictured myself ever leading an interpretation or even writing about nature as I am more of a research oriented person and not so much as a writer. Taking the time I have to write this post and reflect on what this could look like for me really opened my eyes and allowed me to picture myself actually do this. I reflected back to many memories when I was growing up and took part in nature interpretations as a kid (and honestly never made the connection that I was taking part in an interpretation), just emphasizing one of my points about the importance of getting kids involved. I think nature interpretation can be for anyone to take part in, either leading or listening as we all see things differently with a different lens. This has been a great opportunity and I will definitely be taking these skills I’ve learned with me as I continue in my own nature interpretation.
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targaryenimagines · 6 years ago
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Burning Ember
Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2,371
Summary:
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Warnings: None
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People always say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes. That each individual moment you experienced, good and bad, appear in front of you in quick succession. That you felt warm knowing that everything was over. Finally laid to rest for eternity, reuniting with everything you have lost.
It was all lies.
There was no feeling of warmth and security. There was only coldness and despair that seemed to clog your lungs, more so than the water. All you could feel was the endless void that held nothing but wrath and hate. There was no mercy within it only a sense of darkness that your body shrank from.
There was no feeling of freedom or peace. You could feel the weight of the water crushing down onto you. You could feel the way your lungs burned with the lack of oxygen. You could feel the way that the water tore at your skin and seemed to sink into your bones. Chilling you and stealing the warmth you were trying so desperately to keep.
Even when you opened your eyes you could see nothing but darkness. The swirling water holding nothing but you.
You were alone and that weighed on you more than the water ever could, because you know that you didn't enter the water alone. You know that something else was in the water with you, and you know you needed to find it.
However, your mind was too foggy to remember what 'it' was.
You could feel the pressure starting to build in your chest. The need to inhale becoming stronger and stronger with each moment that passed, but you know if you gave in there would be nothing that could save you. Even though you, also, know that if you don't it would have the same end result.
The burning only grew as the darkness did. Your mind starting to deteriorate on itself, and there was nothing you could do. There was nothing that could stop this manic spiral that your entire being was in.
You simply squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the darkness to come. To feel the sweet relief that it would bring. The pain and suffering finally leaving and never returning.
You would be free, and you weren't scared.
Even as the darkness starts to fully consume your mind you did nothing but relax. Accepting the fate you had been bestowed.
Your body going limp just as your mind went blank. Your grasp on the world around you slipping like water does between your fingers. The darkness encompassing you in the sweet relief of tranquility.
Your body becoming numb even as you felt something, gently, lift you up.
-----
A sense of weightlessness enveloped you as chilling winds ripped across your body. Your entire being thrown by the elements. Only to stay in place by the warmth and strength that the being holding you had. The warmth soothing you from the frigid wasteland that was the North.
Finding the strength hidden deep within you, you finally open your eyes. The world was blurry at first but your eyes soon clear. Causing you to see nothing but white and grey, a common color it seems. Bringing your hand up you, gently, grasp the talons holding you. A small smile makes it's way onto your face at the sight. Your gaze already looking up before you could even fully comprehend anything. Only to see a sight that causes your heart to warm.
Viserion.
His beautiful scales seem to glow amid the whiteness of the North. His wings beating with resilience against the raging winds. You had never seen a more beautiful sight, and as you close your eyes you couldn't help but know that you would soon be with Daenerys.
As long as you walked this world you would always return to your dragon.
Nothing, not even the Night King, would be able to stop you.
-----
When you awaken once more you are surrounded by grey. The ground underneath you as cool as the snow outside, but a familiar warmth wraps tightly around you. His body exuding heat like a campfire would.
Pressing your body into his side you nuzzle into him. Relishing the warmth and comfort he was always able to give you. You could see that he was tired by the way his breathing became and more shallow.
Running your hand along his side you could feel the wounds he suffered from because of the fall, and the subsequent bout in the water. You couldn't believe that he was able to get himself out, and then go back in to find you. A fact that causes a tender smile to spread across your face. You didn't know what you've done to deserve such loyalty, but you know you would never do anything to jeopardize it.
Scanning your own body you could see that you hadn't gotten out of the fall unscathed either, but even the injuries you now suffered were a hell of a lot better than being dead.
Closing your eyes once more you lean you head back into Viserion's side. Allowing the moment of peace to wash over you and calm your nerves.
Your mind desperately trying to grasp onto the lightness that the moment gave you.
Knowing exactly what type of darkness was waiting for you out of it.
-----
It took three days for you to get well enough to be able to fly.
Three days of being left in the cave Viserion found when the need for food became apparent.
Three days of constant fear that the White Walkers would find you.
Three days of jumping at your own shadow, even when Viserion was right next to you.
Three days of worrying about Daenerys and missing her.
So on the dawn of the fourth day when you didn't feel a stabbing pain in your side every time you inhaled, you knew it was the day. The day that you had been waiting for.
The day you would finally be able to go home.
Leave the hellish wasteland of the North and head back towards Daenerys. You know that she would be getting ready for the Dragon Pit meeting, if not returning from it.
The thought of seeing her again, and your sons, causes your heart to lurch with joy. Soon you would be surrounded by warmth and the coldness of past three days would be behind you.
You and Viserion would be safe, you just had to take off.
Climbing onto Viserion's warm back, you clutch the spikes. Gripping them tightly when he begins to move, flashing back to the moment you fell. One of your hands unconsciously releasing his spike and traveling to your side. You could feel the makeshift bandage you had put around it. Could still feel the twinge of pain every time you applied pressure.
Snapping yourself out of your dark thoughts you grip Viserion's spikes once more. Leaning towards Viserion's face you whisper. "Sōvegon, Visērion, sōvegon lenton."
Letting loose a soft croon in response Viserion takes off. His wings carrying you both higher and higher into the air. His scales glowing underneath the shining light of the sun. You couldn't help the smile that grows on your face when you feel the wind across your face. You had been on the ground too long, you had no idea how much you would miss the sky. The feeling of complete freedom and peace. The warmth of the sun on your face and coolness of the wind. Experiencing something that many would never get to, it was exhilarating.
Your smile on grows more when pass the wall and are back in Westeros. A weight lifting from your shoulders that you hadn't even been aware was present. The feeling of safety settling over you as Viserion continues to head south. Far away from the North and its icy land.
You know that you would have to return, but at least for now you would be warm in the south. The people you love and trust by your side. There would be no greater feeling than that.
You just had to wait until Viserion arrived.
-----
Scanning the ground beneath you, you could see the sea of Unsullied and Dothraki. Their weapons glinting menacingly in the light of the sun. You have never, truly, realized just how large Dany's army was. The scope of what she was able to accomplish.
Angling Viserion higher, above the clouds, you pass the outer walls of King's Landing. You could see the deserted streets and the overall silence that seemed to wrap around the city. It was a disturbing silence even for you, and you had never even stepped foot in the great city.
Moving you gaze in a lazy arch you notice an almost decrepit coliseum type building, which you know was the Dragon Pit.
Nudging Viserion in the general direction of the meeting you couldn't help but feel your nerves starting to act up. You know that there was nothing to be nervous about and that Daenerys would welcome you back with open arms. It was just the feeling of what if.
What if she was better off with you gone?
What if she had already moved on?
What if she hadn't missed you like you had missed her?
Multiple scenarios ran through your mind, only causing your nerves to fray more, but you quickly steel yourself when Viserion is directly over the pit.
Looking down you could see three canopies situated on the raised platform in the middle of the pit, all the color of blood. You could hear the muffled sound of voices, and then saw the familiar flash of black.
Targaryen black.
Seeing the color soothes you immediately and you couldn't help but grin. Glancing at Viserion you could feel his excitement as well. Nudging Viserion to dive you do nothing but hold on as he gives a shrill cry to announce his presence.
Watching his wings fold tightly into his side causes your mind to flash back to last time he had done this. A thought that causes your body to shrink on itself, but you shake it off. Calming yourself down with the thought that Viserion was with you, fine, and soon you would with Daenerys.
Everything would be as it was supposed to be.
You watch as the people in the pit stand. You could hear startled exclamations but you could only focus on one figure that was moving towards where Viserion was about to land. Her ivory gold locks glowing in the sun and you felt like you could already see beautiful violet.
You could feel the way the stones crumbled, slightly, when Viserion landed. Shifting beneath his feet as he begins his descent down. A smile pulling at your lips when he gives a warning roar to all of the people near him. Clearly saying that no harm would come to either you or Daenerys. Not if they didn't want to deal with his and his brother's wraith.
Viserion starts to slowly lower himself to ground. Not wanting to jar any of your injuries and you pat his neck in silent gratitude. You would have to give him something later for being so thoughtful.
However, as of right now you had another matter to deal with because the second that your feet touched the ground slim arms wrapped around you. You could feel the warmth that Daenerys exuded as she pulled you tightly to her body. Her nose pressed against your neck as she held you. You could feel the stares of all the people in the pit, and the awkwardness their stares caused.
Viserion noticing your emotional change wraps his body around the both of you. Blocking everyone from looking at you and Daenerys.
Bringing your arms to wrap Daenerys you couldn't help the sigh that escaped your mouth.
You were finally home.
Daenerys soon pulls, slightly, away from the tight embrace. You could see the tears that were streaming down her face and you could feel your heart jolt. You hated seeing your dragon crying and the grief that came with it.
"Dany don't cry, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere," you say, your voice coming out in a low whisper. Your eyes sparkling with love and affection.
"They're happy tears, my love, I thought I lost you," she says, her face crumpling at the last words. Causing you to automatically pull her into your body.
"You could never lose me Dany, you are my home and you never leave your home for long."
A soft chuckle escapes her lips and causes your chest to warm. Your happiness growing at the small noise.
"And you are my North Star, you are the thing that guides me to where I have to be. Without you I am lost and I never want to be lost again," Daenerys whispers, nuzzling further into your embrace.
Your next words are filled with conviction as you whisper gently into her ear. "You never will Dany. I promise you that I will always return to you. It may take me a while sometimes but I will always return."
Raising her head Daenerys looks into your eyes. Her own violet starting to sparkle with renewed life. A smile starting to pull at her lips and a sense of lightness returning to her.
"I'll hold you to that promise, my love."
With a gentle smile you bring Daenerys back into your arms. Your eyes tearing up as the realization sinks in that you're finally home. That you weren't dead and that you would be able to be in your Dany's arms once again.
The realization brought happiness into your heart and soul, and as you look at Daenerys burrowing into your embrace you knew that the promise you made to her would never be broken.
You would always return to her.
Just like how the sun always returns to the moon.
You would always return to Daenerys and guide her home. Shining bright against the darkness that wants to consume her.
You would be her North Star.
You would be her light.
You would be her fire.
You would be her always.
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tainted-sentimientos · 5 years ago
Text
Barack Obama’s DNC Speech
“Good evening, everybody. As you've seen by now, this isn't a normal convention. It's not a normal time. So tonight, I want to talk as plainly as I can about the stakes in this election. Because what we do these next 76 days will echo through generations to come.
I'm in Philadelphia, where our Constitution was drafted and signed. It wasn't a perfect document. It allowed for the inhumanity of slavery and failed to guarantee women -- and even men who didn't own property -- the right to participate in the political process. But embedded in this document was a North Star that would guide future generations; a system of representative government -- a democracy -- through which we could better realize our highest ideals. Through civil war and bitter struggles, we improved this Constitution to include the voices of those who'd once been left out. And gradually, we made this country more just, more equal, and more free.
The one Constitutional office elected by all of the people is the presidency. So at minimum, we should expect a president to feel a sense of responsibility for the safety and welfare of all 330 million of us -- regardless of what we look like, how we worship, who we love, how much money we have -- or who we voted for.
But we should also expect a president to be the custodian of this democracy. We should expect that regardless of ego, ambition, or political beliefs, the president will preserve, protect, and defend the freedoms and ideals that so many Americans marched for and went to jail for; fought for and died for.
I have sat in the Oval Office with both of the men who are running for president. I never expected that my successor would embrace my vision or continue my policies. I did hope, for the sake of our country, that Donald Trump might show some interest in taking the job seriously; that he might come to feel the weight of the office and discover some reverence for the democracy that had been placed in his care.
But he never did. For close to four years now, he's shown no interest in putting in the work; no interest in finding common ground; no interest in using the awesome power of his office to help anyone but himself and his friends; no interest in treating the presidency as anything but one more reality show that he can use to get the attention he craves.
Donald Trump hasn't grown into the job because he can't. And the consequences of that failure are severe. 170,000 Americans dead. Millions of jobs gone while those at the top take in more than ever. Our worst impulses unleashed, our proud reputation around the world badly diminished, and our democratic institutions threatened like never before.
Now, I know that in times as polarized as these, most of you have already made up your mind. But maybe you're still not sure which candidate you'll vote for -- or whether you'll vote at all. Maybe you're tired of the direction we're headed, but you can't see a better path yet, or you just don't know enough about the person who wants to lead us there.
So let me tell you about my friend Joe Biden.
Twelve years ago, when I began my search for a vice president, I didn't know I'd end up finding a brother. Joe and I came from different places and different generations. But what I quickly came to admire about him is his resilience, born of too much struggle; his empathy, born of too much grief. Joe's a man who learned -- early on -- to treat every person he meets with respect and dignity, living by the words his parents taught him: "No one's better than you, Joe, but you're better than nobody."
That empathy, that decency, the belief that everybody counts -- that's who Joe is.
When he talks with someone who's lost her job, Joe remembers the night his father sat him down to say that he'd lost his.
When Joe listens to a parent who's trying to hold it all together right now, he does it as the single dad who took the train back to Wilmington each and every night so he could tuck his kids into bed.
When he meets with military families who've lost their hero, he does it as a kindred spirit; the parent of an American soldier; somebody whose faith has endured the hardest loss there is.
For eight years, Joe was the last one in the room whenever I faced a big decision. He made me a better president -- and he's got the character and the experience to make us a better country.
And in my friend Kamala Harris, he's chosen an ideal partner who's more than prepared for the job; someone who knows what it's like to overcome barriers and who's made a career fighting to help others live out their own American dream.
Along with the experience needed to get things done, Joe and Kamala have concrete policies that will turn their vision of a better, fairer, stronger country into reality.
They'll get this pandemic under control, like Joe did when he helped me manage H1N1 and prevent an Ebola outbreak from reaching our shores.
They'll expand health care to more Americans, like Joe and I did ten years ago when he helped craft the Affordable Care Act and nail down the votes to make it the law.
They'll rescue the economy, like Joe helped me do after the Great Recession. I asked him to manage the Recovery Act, which jumpstarted the longest stretch of job growth in history. And he sees this moment now not as a chance to get back to where we were, but to make long-overdue changes so that our economy actually makes life a little easier for everybody -- whether it's the waitress trying to raise a kid on her own, or the shift worker always on the edge of getting laid off, or the student figuring out how to pay for next semester's classes.
Joe and Kamala will restore our standing in the world -- and as we've learned from this pandemic, that matters. Joe knows the world, and the world knows him. He knows that our true strength comes from setting an example the world wants to follow. A nation that stands with democracy, not dictators. A nation that can inspire and mobilize others to overcome threats like climate change, terrorism, poverty, and disease.
But more than anything, what I know about Joe and Kamala is that they actually care about every American. And they care deeply about this democracy.
They believe that in a democracy, the right to vote is sacred, and we should be making it easier for people to cast their ballot, not harder.
They believe that no one -- including the president -- is above the law, and that no public official -- including the president -- should use their office to enrich themselves or their supporters.
They understand that in this democracy, the Commander-in-Chief doesn't use the men and women of our military, who are willing to risk everything to protect our nation, as political props to deploy against peaceful protesters on our own soil. They understand that political opponents aren't "un-American" just because they disagree with you; that a free press isn't the "enemy" but the way we hold officials accountable; that our ability to work together to solve big problems like a pandemic depends on a fidelity to facts and science and logic and not just making stuff up.
None of this should be controversial. These shouldn't be Republican principles or Democratic principles. They're American principles. But at this moment, this president and those who enable him, have shown they don't believe in these things.
Tonight, I am asking you to believe in Joe and Kamala's ability to lead this country out of these dark times and build it back better. But here's the thing: no single American can fix this country alone. Not even a president. Democracy was never meant to be transactional -- you give me your vote; I make everything better. It requires an active and informed citizenry. So I am also asking you to believe in your own ability -- to embrace your own responsibility as citizens -- to make sure that the basic tenets of our democracy endure.
Because that's what at stake right now. Our democracy.
Look, I understand why many Americans are down on government. The way the rules have been set up and abused in Congress make it easy for special interests to stop progress. Believe me, I know. I understand why a white factory worker who's seen his wages cut or his job shipped overseas might feel like the government no longer looks out for him, and why a Black mother might feel like it never looked out for her at all. I understand why a new immigrant might look around this country and wonder whether there's still a place for him here; why a young person might look at politics right now, the circus of it all, the meanness and the lies and crazy conspiracy theories and think, what's the point?
Well, here's the point: this president and those in power -- those who benefit from keeping things the way they are -- they are counting on your cynicism. They know they can't win you over with their policies. So they're hoping to make it as hard as possible for you to vote, and to convince you that your vote doesn't matter. That's how they win. That's how they get to keep making decisions that affect your life, and the lives of the people you love. That's how the economy will keep getting skewed to the wealthy and well-connected, how our health systems will let more people fall through the cracks. That's how a democracy withers, until it's no democracy at all.
We can't let that happen. Do not let them take away your power. Don't let them take away your democracy. Make a plan right now for how you're going to get involved and vote. Do it as early as you can and tell your family and friends how they can vote too. Do what Americans have done for over two centuries when faced with even tougher times than this -- all those quiet heroes who found the courage to keep marching, keep pushing in the face of hardship and injustice.
Last month, we lost a giant of American democracy in John Lewis. Some years ago, I sat down with John and the few remaining leaders of the early Civil Rights Movement. One of them told me he never imagined he'd walk into the White House and see a president who looked like his grandson. Then he told me that he'd looked it up, and it turned out that on the very day that I was born, he was marching into a jail cell, trying to end Jim Crow segregation in the South.
What we do echoes through the generations.
Whatever our backgrounds, we're all the children of Americans who fought the good fight. Great grandparents working in firetraps and sweatshops without rights or representation. Farmers losing their dreams to dust. Irish and Italians and Asians and Latinos told to go back where they came from. Jews and Catholics, Muslims and Sikhs, made to feel suspect for the way they worshipped. Black Americans chained and whipped and hanged. Spit on for trying to sit at lunch counters. Beaten for trying to vote.
If anyone had a right to believe that this democracy did not work, and could not work, it was those Americans. Our ancestors. They were on the receiving end of a democracy that had fallen short all their lives. They knew how far the daily reality of America strayed from the myth. And yet, instead of giving up, they joined together and said somehow, some way, we are going to make this work. We are going to bring those words, in our founding documents, to life.
I've seen that same spirit rising these past few years. Folks of every age and background who packed city centers and airports and rural roads so that families wouldn't be separated. So that another classroom wouldn't get shot up. So that our kids won't grow up on an uninhabitable planet. Americans of all races joining together to declare, in the face of injustice and brutality at the hands of the state, that Black Lives Matter, no more, but no less, so that no child in this country feels the continuing sting of racism.
To the young people who led us this summer, telling us we need to be better -- in so many ways, you are this country's dreams fulfilled. Earlier generations had to be persuaded that everyone has equal worth. For you, it's a given -- a conviction. And what I want you to know is that for all its messiness and frustrations, your system of self-government can be harnessed to help you realize those convictions.
You can give our democracy new meaning. You can take it to a better place. You're the missing ingredient -- the ones who will decide whether or not America becomes the country that fully lives up to its creed.
That work will continue long after this election. But any chance of success depends entirely on the outcome of this election. This administration has shown it will tear our democracy down if that's what it takes to win. So we have to get busy building it up -- by pouring all our effort into these 76 days, and by voting like never before -- for Joe and Kamala, and candidates up and down the ticket, so that we leave no doubt about what this country we love stands for -- today and for all our days to come.
Stay safe. God bless.”
- Former President Barack Obama
To the decided:
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To the undecided:
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To the opposed:
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curuniel · 5 years ago
Text
Library(ies)
For the first prompt of the Tyria’s Library anniversary event. This was meant to be a short story, but it turns out a story in three parts isn’t going to be short.
“This one, this one!”
The young Jura Ogawe bounded back towards his parents, heedless of the heavy sigh that came from a librarian giving up on quiet in the children’s section. His father came to meet him, shushing him with a wink as he reached for the book Jura had picked out.
“Alright son, what do you have there?”
Jura’s mother laid a hand on her husband’s shoulder as she came up behind him and peered at the cover.
“King Joko the Implaccable versus the Wurm of Ronjok?” she read, raising both eyebrows as she did.
Her son grinned, practically bouncing where he stood. “It has pictures! Of the battle!”
“Illustrated by Vinanda Bayet,” Jura’s father noted with increasing amusement, “whose artistic career has apparently taken a few turns since that palace ceiling fresco up north.”
He handed the book back to Jura, who immediately opened it and began looking eagerly at the pictures. Beyond his notice, Jura’s mother drew her husband aside for a quiet word.
“Do we really want him reading things like that?” she asked. “Today it’s how King Joko saved Kourna from a rampaging sand wurm, but tomorrow…”
“Tomorrow he’ll being going to school anyway,” Jura��s father pointed out softly. “Better that he be reading the same books and playing the same games as every other child. We agreed –”
“- that is was safer for him. I know.” She sighed, even more wearily than the librarian had. “It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
He gathered his wife up in his arms. “We’ll talk to him when he’s older,” he murmured for her ears only. “When he can understand the risks. It may be harder when the time comes, but at least Jura will live to see it.”
She nodded against his chest. “And may Grenth give me the strength to endure ten more years of those gods-forsaken books.”
Jura’s father chuckled, and Jura’s mother shook with her own muffled laughter as he hugged her tighter, and Jura obliviously dropped to sit and read his book with wide, uncritical eyes.
*           *           *
Much older, and alone, Jura flicked through pages irritably now and the swishing sound of paper drawing a few eyes to him. That was the problem with libraries – quiet enough that the slightest irritation was noticed – but he was beyond caring about etiquette today.
It was more of the same. Tehelo was one of King Joko’s favourite biographers (of many) and it was starting to become obvious why. Every paragraph contained another overblown description with too many adjectives, not to mention comparisons to events in the author’s other works so that every battle and feat of magic was cross-referenced. The sycophantic quality of the writing, however, was not what was frustrating Jura.
This happened in my lifetime, he thought. The dragon Zhaitan, an ancient power that could raise the dead… as nothing but shells for its will, less than the simplest Awakened. Or so he had always believed. In Vabbi they had been taught that the dragon roamed the seas to the west from its lair on the risen island of Orr, making it impossible to cross to other continents. Elona was a last bastion of safety, the sulphurous Desolation a barrier against draconic doom. But then…
He flicked back to the beginning of the chapter. 1326 AE: the slaying of Zhaitan. The way Tehelo told it, someone suggested in King Joko’s hearing that the elder dragon must be the greatest necromancer the world had ever known. Annoyed at the comment the Eternal King had harnessed a mighty mount and travelled all the way to Orr to strike down Zhaitan and prove once and for all that Joko was the greatest master of necromancy in the history of Tyria and only true commander of the dead. The book, Jura noted, did not mention anything about the fate of the person who had insulted the king.
But none of this made sense as it should. 1326 was only a few years ago; if King Joko was setting out to slay an elder dragon, it was inconceivable that he would do it without full splendour, tribute and boasting. Jura remembered nothing of the sort. He remembered hearing stories about Kralkatorrik (how King Joko had allowed the dragon to send its crystal minions into a Vabbian palace that had blasphemed against him, then stood and commanded it to leave the rest of his kingdom untouched) – but Zhaitan had hardly been mentioned. Until King Joko had proclaimed he had destroyed it.
“This isn’t –” he began out loud, but it wasn’t the glare of a nearby librarian that made him finish the thought in silence. None of this is right.
*           *           *
The sun of the afternoon beat down hot, but Jura was new enough to Amnoon that it still felt like paradise. There was shade both natural and artificial, water when he needed it, gardens unlike anything he’d seen since leaving the halls of Vabbi behind. And he wasn’t wearing armour, which made the heat significantly more bearable. It had been days before he had really felt comfortable going out without armour, but today he felt almost normal in a shirt with a sash, loose pants and sandals.
And a sword. He’s left his ragged shield behind, but he wasn’t going to abandon all sense just because he was in a city again.
Today he was strolling into the surrounding farmland, marvelling at the freedom with which he passed in and out and the decidedly alive cavaliers who nodded to him on his way past. There were people at work here, tending the land and maintaining a marvel of an irrigation system whose workings Jura didn’t yet understand. There were refugees, too, as there seemed to be on every inch of the roads here, and the priests that aided and escorted them. As Jura walked past two priests of Kormir who were poring over a book together, he had to stop and look again at the huge figure his eyes had skimmed over next to them.
The man was easily two feet taller than Jura, and certainly twice as wide at the shoulder. He wore a beard in two braids and a dusty blue robe within which he seemed to be cooking, though he had the sense to have the hood up against the sun. His skin, from what Jura could see, would not have taken kindly to it otherwise.
Jura’s surprise much have shown more than he realised, because the giant man chuckled and gave him a wave. Curious, Jura wandered over.
“Ahai, friend,” the stranger said in a deep voice. “Let me guess; first time meeting a norn?”
“Ah… I suppose it must be. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with… your people,” Jura replied carefully. “I hope that doesn’t cause you offence.”
The norn gave a dismissive wave, then wiped his brow with his sleeve for good measure. “Not at all. We’re not native to these parts, in case that wasn’t obvious.” He chuckled at his own expense. “I prefer the cold, if I’m being honest. Though your city and its harbour are truly lovely!”
“Not my city,” Jura said automatically, then “although… I’m not sure where is, now.” He didn’t want to get into that, so he quickly moved on. “Where are you from then, sir norn?”
He broke into a true smile. “The Shiverpeaks! Great, snowy mountains full of fearsome beasts and majestic sights. Far away, I’m afraid, across the sea. But I’m here as a representative of the Durmand Priory, and the sharing of knowledge is an adventure I will tolerate your devastating sun for.”
The norn gestured at the cart behind him, and Jura’s eye widened momentarily. It was a wagon of sorts with hinged and shuttered sides, currently latched open to show rows of neatly shelved books. Seeing his expression, the norn chuckled again and invited him to take a look.
“The Ossa Legacy… Three Lands, One Sun… An Unauthorised History of the Order of Whispers,” he read aloud.
“We put that one in there just to annoy them,” the norn admitted with a wink.
“I’ve never heard of any of these,” Jura said wonderingly. Then, quashing the wonder from his voice, “and you say these are true histories?”
To Jura’s surprise, the response was a shrug rather than a sales pitch. “No history is ever really a true history. They’re all biased in one way or another.”
“Some more than others,” Jura noted with a touch of bitterness.
“True,” the norn acknowledged. “But these are from our scholars’ collections. Think of them as versions of history told by people who left these lands hundreds of years ago.”
There was a moment’s hesitation before Jura ventured, “may I… read a little?”
“Of course!” The man looked pleased, and it was hard to stay suspicious of him when his emotions seemed so free and genuine. “As long as you don’t take anything away or, say, throw it in a ditch, you’re welcome to read as long as you like.”
Jura, discovering he did not have the words to express everything he was feeling in that moment, made a bow instead and picked a book off the shelf at random. Within seconds he was sitting under a nearby awning, devouring every new piece of knowledge he could find.
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