#it's really hard to explain just how funny/dead on her comment is without the cultural context lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

defilerwyrm · 3 years ago

Note

For the ask meme: burning bright, anything about the parts at the table with the Nein. You write their banter so well!

FIC SPOILERS BELOW!

Burning Bright on AO3

The entire dinner scene hit me like a bolt of lightning while I was working on this fic. It started with Beau’s outburst, and then Veth’s willful denial and subsequent fit, and I built the two scenes around that.

Diving into particulars….

“Uhm,” he said, intelligently, but quickly recovered and flashed his friends a smile. “It is most impressive. Certainly a step up from a tiny hut.”

A direct reference to the name of the spell. Originally it was Leomund’s tiny hut. I have no clue why in 5e Wizards decided to 86 the attribution names on so many spells like Otiluke’s resilient sphere and Tasha’s hideous laughter. Things like that always made me curious about the (what I assume were) PCs the spells were named after. I had thought maybe it was because the characters who diegetically invented them were specific to one setting, but in that case I don’t know why Bigby’s hand is still Bigby’s but Evard’s black tentacles are no longer Evard’s. I don’t like it. As an aside, Widowgast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower is, mechanically speaking, Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion. Anyway. Moving on!

It was delectable that Caleb wanted to impress him.

This boy hungry and not just for soup

Flustered, Essek tried to fend them off, but it was Caleb that did him in. It was always Caleb. The human took a large roll from his own plate, broke it in half, and offered one of these parts to Essek, who tried his best not to choke.

“You need to keep your strength up, ja?” Caleb implored him quietly.

The steady hand that accepted was a point of pride because it very much wanted to quake. The Kryn weren’t bread people, but...did he have any idea what this gesture would mean in Rosohna? Any inkling at all?

This is another one of those places where I delight in playing to cultural differences. What I’d had in mind for what that gesture—breaking food into two pieces and offering half to someone—WOULD mean in Rosohna was a bit nebulous, as I like to keep the reader guessing a bit and let their imagination fill in the blanks; but my rough idea was that it’s a courting gesture that signifies “I can and will provide for you, even if it means less for me.” An expression of selfless caregiving and an offer of partnership. Not wholly unlike a bird bringing food to a prospective mate.

And actually it’s a little bit funny coming from Caleb, who has fuck-all to his name but his name, when Essek is a rich bitch who answers directly to the Bright Queen.

Not that he was about to say it out loud, but he was a quick convert to this whole bread thing. To say that it won him over would be an understatement. That seemed to be a recurring theme here.

I imagine if I’d grown up never really eating bread and was introduced to it in adulthood I’d be like “Where have you BEEN all my life?!” But also: the bread is friendship, the bread is the Mighty Nein, the bread is communion in the spirit of sharing rather than politics and appearances and power plays—things he thought he was fine without until they were foisted upon him.

Somewhere in the course of the multiple conversations going on at one time, Jester got an Idea, as she was prone to doing. He became increasingly aware of her talking about kissing, of all things, and this culminated in her shouting above the din, cheeks flushed purple though he hadn’t seen her touch any wine: “I have an idea you guys! Why don’t we all go around and say how many people we’ve kissed?”

Jester is the most wonderfully convenient deus ex machina if you ever need to insert an awkward or embarrassing conversation among the Mighty Nein, because this is exactly the sort of shit she would do.

Jester leaped up and slammed her hands onto the table. “Caduceus you’ve never been kissed?! That’s so sad!”

The firbolg was unfazed. He merely shrugged and said, “It hasn’t come up and I haven’t gone looking. Not something I’ve ever thought about, really.”

Jester’s tail lashed back and forth behind her like an overstimulated cat. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Fjord went a bit wild-eyed at this. Caduceus smiled gently and said, “No thank you.”

Three things about this part:

1) Jester’s tail doesn’t get NEARLY enough mention in fic! If I’m playing (or writing) a character with a tail you can be damn sure you’re gonna know what it’s doing! Makes me wanna play a tabaxi tbqh.

2) Cad’s “No thank you” is the sum total of his sexuality, lol. Jester was raised in a pretty highly sexualized setting, didn’t really get out much before she fled Nicodranas, and can be pretty naïve, so she doesn’t really get the whole aroace thing; but it never crosses Cad’s mind that this would be “abnormal“ or ”sad” in any way—it causes him no distress, as it shouldn’t. This is yet another “Same planet, different worlds” moment.

3) Fjord is physically restraining himself from yelling “JESTER WHAT THE FUCK” lmao

Veth kept picking at it. “So you’re um. You know. Into the fellas?”

Beau snorted. “I could’a told you that months ago.”

“Yeah you could’a!” Veth pouted with a self-conscious curl to her shoulders.

I saw a comment on Tiktok that said Veth was being borderline homophobic, but that wasn’t my intent! It’s just that she inherited a certain blind spot for male queerness from her player, and as hard as she’d been trying to encourage Caleb to hook back up with his female ex, it never occurred to her that he had a male ex, too—and given that they’ve been so close for so long, she’s feeling pretty self-conscious about the fact that she never figured out that Caleb is bisexual in all that time, as well as kind of upset that no one—Caleb especially—told her. She’s having a moment of “Why didn’t I know this? Did you think it was going to change things between us? Did I make you feel unsafe?” And also a little bit of “Okay well, now I have to get him to hook up with TWO people AT ONCE because my boy deserves threesomes 😤”

Jester went goggle-eyed at him. “You’ve only been with one person?” she exclaimed. “But you’re like a hundred years old! And very handsome. I would have thought you’d get like, all the ladies.”

Ladies. Right.

Veth might not be the only one with a certain blind spot.

Beau gave her a funny look, snorting. “I dunno, he seems like the kinda guy who turns down those offers left and right.”

..…But Beau’s got his number, for more than one reason. She’s got super gaydar, for one, and has him pegged as the type who’s very choosy about his partners (also mind you, this was before demi!Essek was canonized by WoG, so I was still rolling with my hc that Essek got around when he felt like it).

The uproar was instantaneous. Everyone—almost everyone—started talking or shouting at once. Beau’s voice rang out among the din with, “HOLY SHIT ESSEK FUCKS.” Strangely pleased with himself, he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and spent the next few minutes fending off increasingly prying, personal questions until the Nein grew bored with his lack of answers and someone changed the subject.

There it is, the line that spawned two entire scenes!

He was not a war mage, but he was experienced and wily, and he was damned good at what he did, and as long as there was breath left in his body, the Mighty Nein would not fall here.

Joke’s on me, motherfucker literally has the War Caster feat -_-

But like in my defense, that’s just what it’s called in the book. The feat just means that you have either the training or experience to cast well during a fight, which I see as not necessarily the same thing as a war mage, which was my way of saying an arcane caster who is a soldier.

Veth stared at her blankly as if willing herself not to understand. “Caleb? With who?”

She breathed steadily. “...Essek. Caleb and Essek.”

Beside her, Jester squealed and brought her fists to her face.

Veth was less enthused. “WHAT.”

Beau’s mental commentary here is dead on. Veth still doesn’t really trust Essek at this point and has been pretty vocal about that…despite being the one to declare him part of the Mighty Nein? Eh, she’s allowed to have complicated feelings on the guy, all things considered. But I find it kind of comical and very Veth (and very Sam) for her to be all full of zest for trying to get Caleb back together with the frigging Volstrucker who is actively working for his abuser and worst enemy but balk at him hooking up with Essek.

Jester “explained” in a delighted yell: “Caleb and Essek are gonna fuuuuuuck!”

I don’t know, is this too unsubtle to call foreshadowing? The line flowed naturally in the dialogue, but it’s also letting the reader know exactly what they’re in for next, lol.

“...He’s going to break that little elf twink, you know,” Veth said, sounding distant. Seemed she was having some difficulty processing. Not too surprising, considering how adamant she was about wanting their wizard to hook back up with his old flame, the fucking Volstrucker. “We’ve all seen his dick.”

This was 100% taken from Sam’s little throwaway line “It’s above-average” but it turned out to serve two purposes other than reminding the reader that all of these people have seen Caleb naked:

1) It’s yet another thing Veth thinks she understands about him but doesn’t. Caleb’s a top like Dalmatians are purple and if you disagree then I respect your right to be incorrect ;)

2) That said, it is, in fact, foreshadowing for the sequel, in which Essek experiences a great deal of frustration. (I haven’t touched the damn thing in weeks, feels like; I’ve been too busy with work, being exhausted from work, and being in a tizzy about my upcoming surgery.)

Fjord blurted out, “I’ll join you.”

Poor Fjord has had such an uncomfortable night!

Hoo boy that was a lot. Thanks for the ask, this was really fun!! And sorry it took so long; I work Saturday nights and things got really busy for a bit there.

#shadowgast #ask box games #before long my song is dying #critical role #plz how do i fandom

10 notes · View notes

csykora · 5 years ago

Note

hey i was reading your post about evgeny kusnetsov and alexander semin (the friendship necklace one) and i got into hockey somewhat recently but i've heard/read some things about sasha and i was wondering if you could give me a rundown/what your perspective is? you mentioned cultural assimilation, but also social class, ethnic identity, ability, neurodiversity, and trauma and i was really curious what exactly you were talking about??

First, that’s cool you’re getting into hockey! How’s that going? I hope you’re having fun. Second…thanks for making me reread my old writing as we come up on the New Year ;)

That was one of my very first posts, and I think it reads like it—I definitely wasn’t much of a sports writer back then, and (I don’t think) I tell stories quite the same way now.

I don’t think some of those words I used mean much, except that I was angry. So I’d like to spell out what made, makes, me angry. The first half of this is stuff I’ve said before, more organized, with jokes. The second half is not fun, but it’s also something I think NHL fans have a duty to think about. So I want to try to talk about Lokomotiv.

Sasha Semin is the star and captain of a quite good, more fun KHL team. Today he was named to the All-Star team, actually. KHL All-Stars is a magical place where the players sing acoustic covers and routinely set things on fire, so hopefully they’ll let him bring his sword.

(I love the KHL)

Before that, he was the cool big brother of a generation of Russian stars. In the early 2000s the first post-Soviet young players were coming of age and working out what post-Soviet, now-Russian style hockey was going to be. In that moment we got two spectacular players: Sasha from Siberia, and Sasha from Moscow.

The Soviet style of play was supposed to be egalitarian—players skated the opposition sick and pass-pass-passed, always giving it to a teammate instead of taking chances, until whoever happened to have it had a sure shot. The Alexanders grew up in that style, and they grew up fuck-off strong. They started feeding off all their teammates’ passes and beginning to gun down goalies with one of two shots: Alex Ovechkin had the one-timer, and Alex Semin had the best wristshot in the game.

Did you watch Vegas’ magic season? Pull some clips of Wild Bill Karlsson. Imagine if he had upper body strength but was just as light on his feet. That’s how inexplicably electric young Semin was.

His and then Ovi’s performances at World Juniors were so explosive they convinced American businesses to risk money on something new. Semin was oldest, and the Capitals kind of sucked, so they got him first. Then a few years later they still sucked, so they got Ovi too. Then the two of them got Nicklas Backstrom and matching line promise necklaces and played really good hockey together for a number of years.

(If anyone would like 3,000 more nicer words about the above subjects, @ me)

A couple things shaped what happened after that:

▪ Semin’s unique wrister, twisted to be almost as hard as a slapper, is like spending every night downing jägerbombs with a shot of carpal tunnel. He seems to have chronic wrist and hand problems from inflammation, with apparent flare-ups that sometimes got rest and sometimes didn’t. So that’s a factor—not the only, but a—in why he had periods of poor shooting.

▪ Either because he never really went to school or just because he’s wired that way, Semin seems to suck at math.

▪ Ovi’s hot stick and the Sid Incident (Sidcident?):

In their first interview together, Ovi described him and Sid as “partners”, and Sid asked for Ovi’s shirt. But over the first few years the League swung from branding them as buddies to making money off a rivalry, and Don Cherry started a string of bitter conflicts with Ovi.

Local journalists who knew him wrote about seeing Ovi flinch in interviews. They described him starting to hesitate, pale, tired, doubling back over answers to make sure they were watertight. We now know from Tatyana Ovechina that he was spending a lot of nights on the phone back home with her, asking if he was letting everybody down.

Sasha, who’s basically that guy on twitter who found kittens in his sock drawer and adopted them all, but with little brothers, got protective. He told Russian media that he thought Sid was a good player, but not his favorite, and said that the way the League was pushing media attention could make someone a ‘star’ even if they weren’t that good. The phrase he used means “dead wood”, or boring, useless person. The grammar he used means something like “even if he were (ie, he isn’t)”.

I think this was objectively very funny. And I still hold that anyone saying the level of exposure Sid endured was good for him or anyone sounds like the stage parents on Toddlers & Tiaras.)

But people get protective of their person, and most won’t stop for a grammar lesson before deciding what they think something meant. There was a media blitz, mostly accusing Sasha of wanting the attention Sid got, which made sense, if you didn’t know Russian or two things about him—that he’s best friends with Alex Ovechkin, and that he’d only just started to practice English with local reporters after several years. If he were an egomaniac, he was bad at it.

From his reaction it seems like he hadn’t thought his comment was that wild, and wasn’t prepared for the backlash. Next time he talked to local reporters, he brought the translator back. Asked routine questions he’d been getting for a couple years, he flinched and turned to them to rehearse every word of his answer. Asked what was up with the translator, he said “I just don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Although teammates like Mike Knuble, Jeff Schultz, Backstrom and Ovechkin kept talking about his personable, joking side, and we’d see it plenty in practice, he started insisting to reporters that he didn’t know English and that he was boring anyway, claiming “I’m just an ordinary person, just like everybody else. The only difference is I’m out there on the ice and that’s it. I’d just rather talk about hockey.”

–> Without math or English, Semin’s career depended on his agent, Mark Gandler.

Try not to depend on Mark Gandler.

As the Globe and Mail put it, “to many Canadian hockey fans, Mark Gandler is nothing less than the Prince of Darkness.”

Mark Gandler’s business was based on presenting himself as a friendly face to young Russian athletes, and pissing of NHL franchises. I’m pro-pissing off the NHL in general; my problem with Gandler is that if he was sincerely trying to get the best deal for him clients, he was bad at it..

When anyone talks about something Semin decided, they’re talking about what Gandler decided for him. Semin was honest with the media that he had no fucking clue what Gandler was asking for in negotiations. The Caps and Gandler couldn’t agree on anything, so while Ovechkin was locked down for life, Semin was only ever signed to one and two year bridge contracts, constantly up, his performance a constant subject of discussion and every wobble obvious.

Note: the following is the bit where I got angry and A. asked why the hell I was looking at photos of this and told me to go lie on the floor and do my butterfly exercises for a while.

One year Semin’s game really sucked. It didn’t help that Ovechkin was sucking too—they both got benched, Coach got fired, and still the Capitals just kind of sucked. Around the league, Russian stars were mostly fizzling. That was the 2011-2012 season.

On September 7, 2011, the airplane carrying the Lokomotiv Yaroslavl team, coaching staff, and four youth players had overrun the runway, struck a signal tower, crashed, and caught fire moments after takeoff. Every member of the team onboard was killed.

I can’t understand, so certainly can’t explain, how that day changed the community. I’m not trying to speculate too much on anyone’s personal situation, but to point out how much more profound it was than just some other league’s trivia.

I don’t think there’s a mainstream North American parallel for the hockey community in Eastern Europe. Players are raised in a small number of hockey schools, often at that time in dormitories like the one where Semin lived in Chelyabinsk. While young North Americans are quite strictly separated by age, the Russians are growing up with older and younger kids from the same school all around them. Older teens are encouraged to mentor younger ones—Kuznetsov’s attachment to Semin is endearing, but not really so weird. Stanislav Yarushin is several years older than Sasha, and he befriended him, and then down to Kuz. In a community like that, any one person is intimately connected to the others.

From the coaches to the rookies, someone from three generations across nine nations was killed in the disaster. Each of them was connected not only to their peers, but to players older and younger than them, and to the city that raised them. Every Russian, Czech, and Slovak in the NHL lost at least one person they knew deeply.

Just that spring, Kuznetsov won gold at World Juniors with a little clique of friends. Vladimir Tarasenko, Artemi Panarin, and Dmitry Orlov are stars now, and two of the others are dead.

Kuznetsov is the one draped in the flag. #14, with the awesome hair, smiling, is Danylo Sobchenko. #12, reaching up towards the cup, is Yuri Urychev. Urychev had been injured, and supposed to stay home the day of the disaster, but he asked to be allowed to fly with them, so he could cheer for his friends.

Tarasenko himself was born in Yaroslavl, and his father played for Lokomotiv; he knew even more of the team, and if he’d taken a hometown offer instead of signing with Sibir, he would have died that day too.

The thing about a loss like this is that it keeps budding with new losses. It hadn’t been a problem with the plane, or a freak accident. Over the following month a miserable investigation revealed that the airline had fudged documents, and the pilots just didn’t know what they were doing. So as well as losing friends, the younger players lost any trust that people in authority were going to keep them safe in the future.

After the disaster, Ovechkin, Semin, and Malkin had to hold their phones waiting while Alexander Galimov (a friend from nationals) was found with burns over 80% of his body, stabilized, transported, placed in a medically-induced coma and ventilated. He finally died five days later. The day he died Tarasenko and Kuznetsov and all the others got back on their own planes and kept playing, so the NHLers just had to keeping waiting up for them, too. Now Tarasenko and Kuznetsov have little brothers on those planes. They’re better fucking planes now, because the disaster changed Russian law, but they’re still not great.

In a grim way, Semin and Ovechkin were lucky, because they had each other. At the time almost no NHL team had as many Eastern Europeans as the Caps, meaning almost all the others were alone.

Of course it just wasn’t possible for the North American public to grieve with them the way that Europe did, but how quickly it was boxed away and forgotten as a factor in players’ lives just…sucks.

You don’t just grieve somebody when you lose them; people who aren’t sure what to say will say it fades with time, but what it really does is rise and fall in waves. You grieve them when you lose them, and again when you’re as old as they were and realize how insufficient it really was, and again, when you’re older than they’ll ever be, when you’re old enough to see children their age. Like injuring your wrist, you can get back to work, but never back to exactly what you were before.

Five years later, when Tarasenko scored his 100th goal, he dedicated it to Sobchenko and Urychev.

Most of a decade later, Alex Ovechkin wears the Lokomotiv crest on his chest protector, over his heart.

So if we know all that, we can start to imagine why they sucked at hockey.

Actually, after a slow start to the season, Sasha sucked the least of all the Capitals. Always a stronger possession player than Ovechkin, Sasha actually recovered after the Caps brought in Dale Hunter, who ripped up the Goals First, Goals Always game plan and tried to make Ovi play defense. Sasha ended the season with the best possession metrics on the team (yes, including Nicke Backstrom).

His goal-scoring didn’t recover, but that was because Coach Dale was basically treating him like Ovi’s security blanket, putting him on the second line with Mojo so Ovi couldn’t cuddle him until Ovi backchecked. Mojo (this is a Science fact) is not Nicke Backstrom.

The reason the Capitals traded Semin is they desperately needed to trade someone to make up for the team’s collective failures that year, he could be traded due to his shitty contracts, and he was worth trading.

I’m not actually angry the Caps traded Semin. It made sense. I am mad the Habs did, because it was one of many decisions made by Marc Bergevin coughing up a heavily-gelled hairball on a depth chart, but hey.

Sports is hard. I don’t mean that teams should keep players who aren’t playing the way that team needs them to out of sympathy. I mean that it’s possible to say that Semin or Ovechkin sometimes play badly without saying they don’t care. It’s possible to name a practical problem without making it a moral one.

Because when we see someone not doing what we want, and we make it moral, we say, “well gosh, I can’t imagine a reason why they aren’t jazzed to do what I want right now, so there can’t be a reason, they just suck,” we’re always wrong, because we miss shit!

In 2011, the common complaint that Russian players “don’t seem to care” went from boring to breathtakingly cruel.

It’s a collective failure of empathy, where a lot of us didn’t even know that empathy’s needed. How many NHL fans don’t know Lokomotiv existed? If we don’t even know what weight another person’s carrying, we can’t possibly judge them rightly!

The athletes we’re watching aren’t just cartoon characters for American consumption, who always act and react in easily-readable ways. They’re people with beliefs, behaviors, and problems which might be meaningfully different from what we’re personally familiar with and really hard to sympathize with.

But when we see someone struggling to do what we want them to, we have to wonder why, and look around to learn more about moments like this, and then offer empathy. I believe that if we have information, most people use it to be kind. So we really fucking need historical information.

I’m back on the floor and don’t have a closer, so here’s a picture of a cat with big mitts like Sasha. His name is Peppers.

93 notes · View notes

tessatechaitea · 4 years ago

Text

The Invisibles #1

If I had to pretend to know anything about art, I'd say this cover represents how pop culture can kill. Or will blow your mind. Or feels dangerous but it's actually pretty safe because the pin is still in the grenade.

What the fuck do I know about art and why the fuck am I assuming this comic book is going to be about art anyway?! Just because Grant Morrison wrote it and I happen to think Grant Morrison has written some pretty smart comic books? Well, I'm pretty sure he's written some huge fucking turds too! It's just that I haven't read any of them that I remember. Apparently I've read a few issues of this but I don't really remember it. I don't like to tell people that I don't remember it when they talk about how great it was because that's admitting that 22 year old me wasn't a discerning critic of his entertainment. At least I also can't remember the truly garbage comic books I was reading in 1994 as well! So it's possible I read this and thought, "I'm so smart because I understand what's happening!" Now I'm terrified to read it because I'm absolutely certain I'll think, "What the hell is going on in this comic book? I'm such a stupid asshole!" Oh boy. This comic book is forty pages long. Get ready for a review that explicates the first fifteen pages thoroughly while also digressing twelve separate times before quickly summarizing the last twenty-five pages so I can go play some Apex.

I can't say for certain this is a shot at Ann Nocenti but, thankfully, I can say it's definitely not a shot at me!

This guy is Elfayed. He's retrieved a mummified scarab from the desert believing it might be a sign for the mysterious bald man with too many face piercings and the endeavor he's currently on. Which is a mystery because Grant Morrison isn't going to let the reader understand the comic book on the first page! Sheesh! The second page doesn't help explain things but it does place the word "synchronicity" burning in my brain like a buzzing, blinking neon sign.

Get it? Mummified beetle. Dead Beatles. Boy throwing a Molotov cocktail. Pop culture and violence. I think I intuitively understand this comic book so 70% of the rest of what I say will be dick jokes.

The kid throwing the explosive is one of three members of a gang called the Croxteth Posse. Every youth in Britain joins a gang no matter how stupid and lame they are. It just proves how hard they are even if they never throw one Molotov cocktail or ever even get their genitals touched. The gang members run off into the night, past some "King Mob" graffiti which will be important later, yelling, "We are the boys! We are the boys!" Is that a thing lame youth gangs in London did in the 80s and 90s? Because I remember Lister and his posse saying that shit about being the boys of the Dwarf when they thought they were acting hard on some adventure that probably involved Lister fucking a future version of himself. The Croxteth gang are from Liverpool because Croxteth is a suburb of Liverpool. It shows how imaginative these youths are. I bet there are at least fifty different Croxteth Posses bumbling about at night destroying things. The bald guys name is Gideon (and possibly King Mob. Unless the antagonist is King Mob. I should probably keep reading to find out) and he's both young and old at the same time. He's probably some kind of spirit of the zeitgeist or something, Grant Morrison's Jenny Sparks. He's looking for a new recruit for his own gang since something happened to John-A-Dreams. He might have just died of old age because Gideon's other acquaintance, Edith, is now 95 years old and sulking in her mortality. He wants her to contact somebody named Tom to let him know he thinks he found their new recruit. I think it's probably the anarchist kid because I know how stories work. I'm starting to think maybe The Invisibles are a bit like the Upright Citizens Brigade. Their only enemy is the status quo. Their only friend is chaos. Except there will be less skits with people wearing giant papier-mâché cat heads and more ultra-violence. The arsonist kid's name is McGowan and he's smarter than he acts, according to his teacher who gives him the old "you're not fulfilling your potential and your friends are just dragging you down" speech. But what kind of an anarchist would McGowan be if he gave a shit about what his teacher thinks of him? Oh, that's right! He'd be a good anarchist if he really gave a shit and a bad anarchist if he didn't give a shit but he let the teacher's words affect him anyway. That's how anarchy works, right? The problem with anarchy is that it needs a few rules to make it work well but you can't enforce any rules or else you're not living an anarchic lifestyle. Here's my definition of anarchy from Places & Predators, my roller playing game: a philosophy where anybody can do anything they want without worrying about some stupid guard putting an axe in their head. But they have to worry about everyone else putting an axe in their head all the time because there are no guards. I should probably read The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin instead of all these stupid Han Solo and Lando Calrissian adventure books.

Oh, well McGowan's mother withholds love and affection and blames him for all the ills in her life. I suppose I can now forgive him for torching the school library, right?

McGowan heads out to sit in the cold and watch John Lennon have a conversation with Stuart Sutcliffe. They joke about being dead and it's funny because they are dead. Stuart even says he wants to die young which is doubly funny because he does. Ha ha! McGowan doesn't laugh because maybe he doesn't find gallows humor funny. But some weird creature that speaks some German does laugh. He's all, "Ha ha! They're going to die young! Oh ho ho! Such jolly fun! Now join with me, you dumb kid." He also says some German stuff that I can't make sense of because I don't speak German and I don't want to ask the Non-Certified Spouse what it means. I could use Google but I'm being extra lazy right now. McGowan tells the weird German tourist to fuck off because he doesn't care about anything. But you know what kind of people actually care a lot about everything? The kind who need to tell everybody that they don't care about anything. Only people whose feelings are super hurt say stuff like that. And maybe serial killers. Later McGowan decides to prove he doesn't care by suggesting he and his friends blow up the school. Not because he cares how they think they know everything and they want him to be just like them and all adults lack affection and sincerity. No, he just wants to blow it up because he doesn't give a shit about nothing, man. The scene switches to the bald guy who might be King Mob on an LSD trip. It's nothing like taking LSD but I'll pretend it's all metaphor and analogy and spiritual nonsense. In his trip, he sees a gigantic head of John Lennon. Mostly because the whole trip was to summon this head. It's a double page spread of psychedelic images and nonsense mixed with Beatles lyrics and album titles. Strange that Morrison fails to translate an acid trip involving The Beatles when The Beatles themselves have a song that I think most feels like and describes an acid trip. No, it's not "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds"; it's "Strawberry Fields." If I had to state what my favorite Beatles song was right now, I'd say "Strawberry Fields" even though Magical Mystery Tour might be my least favorite (later) album (although now that I type it, I remember it contained "Penny Lane" and "The Fool on the Hill" and "All You Need is Love" and I guess I was wrong about Magical Mystery Tour being my least favorite album). I added the later because their early pop shit doesn't really resonate with me. I don't think I appreciate their music until after they've met Doctor Robert. Just listened to "Strawberry Fields" and now I'm crying. Fucking great song. While trying to burn down the school, McGowan is caught be his teacher. He gives his teacher a brutal beating and then answers a question he refused to answer in class, just to show he's both smart and violent.

McGowan's arrested and Hugh Laurie sentences him to hard juvenile labor.

I was speaking of acid earlier and I'd like to recommend the documentary on Netflix called Have a Good Trip, especially to people who have never done acid. It's enlightening. You might think that my favorite part was one of the crazier bits about hallucinations or one of the stories about how something odd always happens when on acid (it totally does) but I think my favorite bit is when the musician from Bikini Kill, Kathleen Hanna, tells the story about how acid made her realize that you didn't have to cross the street along the legs of the two triangles comprising the square intersection but can just cross along the hypotenuse. It's not that the idea is mind blowing or even close to an "A-ha!" shower thought; it's just that's the kind of mundane thought that seems like a fucking magic revelation when you're on acid. It's the epitome of the acid experience. LSD makes the mundane profound which is way more exciting than you might think. If you've never done acid, you might have fucked off to the comment section just now to point out that the universe is a wonderful and magical and profound place even without acid. And I fucking agree. But LSD makes everything profound. Every single thing you see or think combines with the fabric of the universe and it all becomes staring at the stars and wondering how it all fucking fits together. But you don't need space or infinity or philosophy; you just need LSD, a stapler, a bottle of water, and a Jack Kirby comic book from the early 70s. Dane McGowan is sentenced to ten weeks in a juvenile facility called Harmony House. It's where violent teenage boys aren't taught to stop being violent; it's where they're taught to use their violence to benefit the government! At least that's my guess. I like to pretend I know what's happening in the comic book as I write the review and then later I delete the wrong assumptions I made and replace them with lies to make me look like a Grandmaster Comic Book Reviewer! Actually, that last sentence was a lie. Normally if I get something wrong, I just write "Oops!" later and then tell readers to forget the terrible mistake I made.

This is the plot to every young adult dystopian book ever written: "Society says conformity is good. But one young spunky individual with weird hair won't submit and will save the world!"

Sometimes I feel the only people touched by stories about the individual refusing to be a sheep of the status quo are people who tend to be sheep of the status quo. To rely identify with the hero in one of these stories, the reader needs to have though of themselves as part of the status quo and felt the need to participate in some activity that would prove that they weren't. Instead of, you know, just being themselves and never actually giving their place in society a second thought. I find odd people who are inspired by a story that tells the reader to be themselves. How is that inspiring unless you never really knew that was an option? And how could you fucking not know it?! But then again, Heathers is one of my all-time favorite movies and I suppose that's got a similar message about being oneself. But it also has murder and some seriously great lines of dialogue and Christian Slater blowing himself to bits.

Oh, remember where I mentioned this comic book was basically screaming "synchronicity" at me and that I understood it on an instinctual level after page two? Grandmaster Comic Book Reader!

The leader of The Invisibles (man, I wish the comic book would just tell me that the bald guy with piercings is actually King Mob already) decides to infiltrate Harmony House to make sure their soon-to-be new recruit, McGowan, is doing okay. I'm sure he'll find he's fine because he's not buying into the whole "be a soldier of the status quo" bullshit being fed to the young boys at the institution. It's easy to be against a Headmaster who thinks arguments like "Liberals love freedom but do they want people to be so free that they can steal their VCRs." But will he be able to stand up against the techno-brainwashing and the influence of the mystical creature running things from behind the scenes?! Probably but only with help from the Upright Citizens Brigade. I mean The Invisibles.

It's surreal that this is the way we thought of controlling the populace in the 90s: turn them into content sheep without any anger or frustration. And yet the exact opposite of that is true: control them by making them angry and frustrated at as many lies and half-truths as you can.

The big twist reveal isn't that the boys' brains are cut up and messed with; it's that the boys genitals are removed as well. Yeesh! Now I'm angry and frustrated! I'm totally against this Harmony House bullshit. Is this actually happening red states?! Horrific! King Mob (yes, they finally reveal that's the bald guy's name) rescues Dane from Harmony House while shooting a bunch of people (including the Headmaster) and blowing the building to bits. It's a good thing we learned the real antagonist was some dick-eating creature called the King of Chains. Dane McGowan isn't ready to join The Invisibles which King Mob was ready for. He had a tarot reading earlier that said the kid was going to have to be put through the wringer first. So he leaves the kid in London and disappears, just so we all know why they're called The Invisibles. I guess Batman is a member? The Invisibles #1 Rating: B+. This issue was forty pages long and it felt like it used every page to move the story along. It's insane that that's one of the greatest compliments I can give a comic book. Way too many writers just fill their scripts with nonsense because they don't have a real plan for their story. I know everybody espouses the idea that a good comic book story should teach the reader something new about the character. But unless learning that Superman can punch something harder than he previously thought he could, or Batman is super resilient and can take a ton of punishment for five issues before rising to the occasion through pure force of will, most comic book writers really don't put a lot of thought into themes. Sure, sure. This sort of feels like the mystic super hero version of Catcher in the Rye which might be why I stopped purchasing it after six issues. Although it's just as likely that I stopped purchasing it at six issues because my infrequent visits to the comic book store made me miss Issue #7 and I just gave up on it. It's not bad and it's put together well and as a young 48 year old who thinks the man can go fuck himself, I'm totally into it's message about being a unique individual! Anarchy rules!

#The Invisibles #Grant Morrison #Steve Yeowell

2 notes · View notes

recentanimenews · 5 years ago

Text

Isekai, Ranked

If Anime is escapism, there is no better way to escape than plunging Into Another World, where our niche skills and routine possessions may shake the fabric of reality! From MMO-inspired, to hard fantasy, there are many types of shows on this list but no movies nor series we haven’t seen recently. Bring all disagreements to the comments below!

1. Re:Zero − Starting Life in Another World Re:Zero takes Isekai’s love for fish-out-of-water stories on step further: through brutal, expectation breaking blind sides, it makes the viewer a fish out of water too! Dripping with fantastic animation, Re:Zero true strength is the balance of its highly detailed world without over explaining its magic system, time loop mechanic and political systems. It also earns bonus points for limiting the application of its protagonist’s powerful magic and technological advantages.

2. Sword Art Online (1st season) In the narrowest of second places, SAO pairs top shelf animation with an approachable cast and easy to appreciate central conflict. Its lovingly constructed MMO setting aside, Kirito’s mistakes and occasional darkness elevate him above his potentially generic good-at-everything character type and Asuka plays the strongest heroine/love interest on the list.

3. Now and Then, Here and There Imagine if Digimon told a bleak about story sex trafficking child soldiers trapped on a waterless world with a maniac king? NTHT’s intense swerve from adorable into darkness is on par with Re:Zero and, much like Natsuki Subaru, HTHT’s Shu must rely on ‘durability’ and ‘heart’ to make it through. While some of it’s later tragic moments are predictable, this f’ed-up little anime scores major points for telling a complete story and having that story grow Shu from simpleton into a conflicted young adult.

4. Gargantia on the Verdurous Planet While Red’s post-earth scifi origin may stretch the common definition of Isekai, being trapped in a primitive culture that treats him (and his AI-driven mech Chamber) like a hero of old does not. Beautifully, Gargantia flips the script and makes Red’s overwhelming power, and killing in general, at odds with the local people.

5. Yōjo Senki / The Saga of Tanya the Evil Give us World War I with magic, a gender swapped villain as our protagonist, and God as our antagonist, and you’ve given us something pretty damn original. Like Gargantia, this reborn in another world captures thinking differently about the world can be as powerful and terrifying as unworldly strength. Without question, Yojo Senki’s cast is the most uniquely imagined on this list.

6. No Game No Life Like Tanya, the Blank twins piss off god and are sent to another world as punishment. However, their punishment is much more stylish and… harem. Underneath NGNL’s acid-soaked panties, over the top protagonists and the psychedelic color pallet, lives a show featuring thoughtful puzzles and imaginative spins on classic gamble to win story telling. Sadly, its story ends unfinished…

7. KonoSuba One part jab at Isekai and one part love letter to the starting town of every fantasy MMO, KonoSuba is all parts ruthlessly funny! While this reborn in another world (with a goddess!) show is not be as smartly written as NGNL, and it becomes repetitive after a time, the constant frenetic action more than makes up for it.

8. Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash Quiet, thoughtful, and full of sadness, this hard fantasy Isekai doesn’t care if its heroes are reborn in another world or trapped in a dungeon crawl afterlife. Building family bonds and connecting with people who would not normally be friends is all that matters… and it’s lovingly animated to boot!

9. ReCreators As a reverse Isekai, ReCreators distinguishes itself by bringing the other world to us. The experience is fantastically animated and packed with clever dialog that somehow breaths sincerity into a profoundly silly plot. The cast is quite diverse, both in design and personality, which keeps the action fresh, yet somehow cohesive throughout. It’s only major flaw is, the final act, which is way to drawn out.

10. The Devil is a Part Timer No I’m not kidding! This reverse Isekai’s premise that the Devil is trapped in our world and must work at McDonnald’s to get by is charming. While DiaPT’s humor isn’t particularly specific to the devil, the jokes are punchy, and the overall plot develops at a respectable pace. As an added treat, the opening gothic fantasy fight scenes are surprisingly well animated.

11. Log Horizon (1st season) Most exposition heavy, trapped in an MMO themed Isekai featuring ‘top ranked’ players crumble after a few episodes. More often than not, these shows try too hard to sell the coolness of their game worlds, user interfaces, and central characters. Miraculously, Log Horizon gets better mid season with a simple question: if former NPCs have personalities, can grow and learn, and even die, are they more human than the former players that dismiss them as background texture? Still, it takes Log Horizon six episodes to get going and good lord is it gray looking…

12. Overlord (3 Seasons) This transported into an MMO Isekai mirrors its main character: it is competent but not sure what it should be doing at any given moment. Sometimes the protagonists are villains and sometimes they are heroes. More often than not, characters are given lavish screen time to develop, only to be slaughtered whimsically. The resulting narrative is full of call backs and revealed foreshadowing… yet hasn’t gone very far in 3 seasons and hasn’t asked any interesting questions along the way.

13. El Hazard – The Magnificent World (OAV/TV) Predestined paradox, trans-dimensional time jumping high school students (and their drunk gym teacher) are trapped in an Arabian Nights’like land besieged by sentient bugs, a secret tribe of assassins from another dimension, and a death star like eye of god orbiting nearby. If you watched anime in the 1990s it will all be familiar but it still manages to feel original yet cohesive production. The character abilities are wonderful, the tragedy is nice, and plenty is left up to your own imagination to fill in the blanks. A bland, fault free, protagonist and a boy-crazy harem vibe are the only reasons it isn’t higher on the list.

14. Gate: Jieitai Kano Chi nite, Kaku Tatakaeri This invading the other world Isekai flips the script to deliver political intrigue, clash of culture, and commentary on Japanese society. It loses points for being a overly harem, relying on super dumb/super evil antagonists, and a dull protagonist but it’s fun enough to watch.

15. Drifters Stylishly violent, strikingly ugly, historical character filled and utterly bonkers, this reborn in another world Isekai’s uniqueness will hold your attention. Even if you do not want it to.

16. Rise of the Shield Hero (2 Seasons) On paper, this transported to an MMO world Isekai’s “treat the hero like crap,” “watch him accept the role of a slave-buying villain” and ultimately “rise to become the true hero” concept is great. Revealing that the world he’s saving may be less redeemable than the world the invaders are trying to save is also great. Too bad its padded and many of the arbitrary delays and narrative dead ends feel like cop outs.

17. That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime While it lacks the initial hardcore’ness of Shield Hero, this reborn in another world Isekai is pleasantly animated and full of heart. The idea that naming monsters grants them power is a pretty neat mechanic too. It just sort bounces from idea to idea without a sense of purpose of resolution. One minute it’s a story of unlikely friendship, then magic destiny, then town builder, then harem, and onto magic school and isn’t about anything in particular until a hastily thrown together plot ties it up at the end. It scores points for making its hero a slime… although the reborn aspect never feels played with or justified.

18. Angel Beats! If the gun fetish, kids fighting a loli-angel instead of attending school in the afterlife plot weren’t so dumb and drawn out, this rebirth story’s touching moments would push it much higher. There’s a really good tale of life cut short, reunion after death, and again after rebirth here and it gets major bonus points for finishing the story it had to tell. Totally squandered.

19. Death March / Kara Hajimaru Isekai Kyousoukyoku Like Shield Hero, this reborn in an MMO Isekai is actually quite good looking. However, its Gary-Stue protagonist, harem and absurd narrative padding make it far less interesting. OMG how many episodes are about making lunch?! That’s too bad because the concept of code-like “copy and paste” magic system is pretty neat.

20. Wiseman’s Grandson / Kenja no Mago Despite opening with a modern day man being killed, this reborn into a fantasy world Isekai is more Magic School than Isekai. The only thread that connects the protagonist’s lives is that he can look at magic with an eye for process instead of outcome. The result is harmless easy watching but harem elements, a slow pace and lack of getting anywhere narratively hold it back.

21. How Not to Summon a Demon Lord This summoned into an MMO Isekai starts off as charming, but ecchi-heavy, before abruptly turning dark at the end of the season. We’re talking ‘make a child watch as her best friend is slowly tortured to death’ and creepo ‘finger-bang a loli cat girl in order to give birth to the demon inside her’ level dark. While those elements elevate HNtSaDL above niche appeal of its harm and MMO content, they aren’t so interesting to earn my recommendation.

22. Problem Children are coming from Another World, Aren’t They? The non-ecchi poor man’s No Game no Life features a talking cat that only some characters can understand and dreadful music. TFW smooth jazz? There’s some cuteness to be had, and the solutions to gambling games can be clever, but the overall vibe is low energy. It loses drama points because its protagonist is as smart as a god and physically stronger.

23. Do You Love Your Mom and Her Two-Hit Multi-Target Attacks? This poor man’s Konosuba is occasionally funny, satire of RPG conventions and family relationships. Mama’s skill that interrupts whatever her son is doing, no matter what it is or where he is in the game world, is particularly charming. Unfortunately, there’s no avoiding the creepo factor of sexualizing that family relationship.

24. Restaurant from Another World My mom is secretly from another world and my restaurant’s front door connects back to that world each day is certainly unique, but it’s structured more like a food-porn show than Isekai. While the linkages of each patron become clear over time, few characters are not aware of those connections themselves. The result never feels like it gets anywhere.

25. In Another World With My Smartphone Stories without risk are still watchable when they immerse us an interesting world, or delve into niche details like food or how magic works, or sleeze us with harems and sex appeal. Smartphone fails all of these things. Worse, it does nothing with it’s one idea: protagonist Touya is reborn in a fantasy world with smartphone. Except, GOD GIVES HIM GOD TIER MAGIC FROM THE GET-GO! Ironically, Re:Zero and No Game No Life both use of a cell phones in more interesting ways, and Tanya’s God isn’t even comparable. Unoriginal, unfunny, not dramatic, not sexy, not worth watching.

26. Maou-sama, Retry! This transported to an MMO Isekai’s trash production values, and bizarre characters are hard to take seriously. The results are sometimes so terrible they are funny, such as incompetent background music transitions and detailed horses hiding at the edges of the frame. Sadly, a bland harem and complete lack of narrative objective kill the mood.

27. Isekai Izakaya Imagine a low energy, public access style show, with a tourism theme, that featuring a modern Japanese restaurant that serves fantasy world patrons…

28. Isekai Cheat Magician A loveless summoned to a fantasy world Isekai who’s protagonists are the most powerful and purely good characters could deserve a niche rating. Not this one. The narrative sort of ‘skips the boring stuff’ and, in doing so, skips character development. Hilariously, what the narrative does show is poorly animated, always underwhelming magic battle scenes or people standing around talking.

29. Endride Without dialog, this stumbled into a magic world Isekai’s vibrant color and crisp art would be watchable. The fact that the world is somehow inside of Earth’s core and the sparse use of mythology are unique, but its dumb-as-bricks whiny teen protagonists have the maturity of a small children. There are many unintentionally funny moments like scientists using gigantic laptops or the king’s magic weapon looking like a safety pin. Ultimately, the cast is so unlikeable that the show itself is unwatchable.

By: oigakkosan

#Anime #News #RABUJOI – An Anime Blog

4 notes · View notes

spideyxchelle · 6 years ago

Photo

she wears yellow in Vienna. and he notices. because she is in a serious relationship with the color black. any kind of brightness really throws him for a loop. it throws their entire decathlon travel party for a loop. flash audibly gasps. “settle down, flash gordon. its just a dress,” she rolls her eyes. ned smiles, “you look nice, mj. you always look nice. but, you know, yellow is a pretty color on you.” cindy lifts her chin proudly, “thank you.” Peter raises his eyebrow in confusion, so mj clarifies, “cindy bought it for me. for the, uh, dinner tonight.”

the midtown team was having dinner with the british league. a huge part of the world decathlon championship was about building bridges between the future leaders of tomorrow. to make friends. and so mj, as captain, had decided they would try and have dinner with as many teams as they could manage before the competition in three days.

which still doesn’t explain the yellow dress.

he is still staring. it is really hard not to. it exposes her shoulders. and her collarbone. which is a sexy bone. peter parker had never consider the collarbone sexy before. it is. and the fact that he is constituting a bone as sexy sends him into an immediate shame spiral. especially because he knows he should not be looking at mj. not the way that he is. which is borderline carnivorous.

their eyes connect. he wants to fire off a flare to send for help. he is in danger. looking at her is dangerous. there is a ripple of something that passes between them and he wants to run. he just isn’t sure if he wants to run away. or run toward her. it is a staggering kind of revelation. the kind that burns cities to the ground.

peter forces himself to tear his eyes away. he is not sure how he knows but mj looks away, too. and he feels the prickle of people watching him. watching them. there weird surge of energy that sent an electric shock rippling through the space.

“nice dress,” he mumbles, to break the tension. “thanks,” she nods awkwardly.

conversation smothers the silence. the others talk. bitch. groan. sally and cindy take pictures every ten feet. the world and time keep moving forward, unkindly ignoring peter’s discomfort.

as they walk to dinner, peter cannot help but steal glances at her. the yellow is a soft compliment to the setting sun. the pinks and purples, a backdrop.

they arrive at the little café where they are meeting the british league. and peter never makes it in the door. mj grabs the bend of his elbow and tugs him away. “hey, woah,” he fumbles. he immediately notices that michelle’s face is unreadable. and very, very close to his own. she seems to detect it, too. because she takes a pointed step back. she smooths down the yellow fabric of her dress and says with a forced casualness, “stop looking at me, parker. its distracting.” he feels his face grow a violent and vicious red. “i-I’m not. you? you’re…that’s….i’m not,” he practically flails. she rolls her eyes, “fine. you’re not. but if you were…stop. okay?” he looks down at his shoes and nods, “copy that.” “good,” she says and parades into the restaurant.

peter is not quick to follow her. he lags behind and leans back against the wall, taking in deep breaths. it is just a dress. it shouldn’t affect him so much. perhaps, he reasons, he is just surprised. michelle isn’t much one for dresses. it is just a culture shock to his system. nothing more.

he feels his face, his stupid blush, start to fall under control. he wrangles his weird feelings. and dampens them down until they are ground into something manageable. he is being ridiculous. michelle is his friend. first and foremost. end of story.

peter walks into the café five minutes later and spots the table of his peers all laughing with some kids he doesn’t recognize. the british league. and then, above all the laughter, he hears another laugh. it is a twinkling and an unfamiliar sound.

it belongs to michelle.

he stops dead in his tracks. she is laughing and leaning into a really, frankly unfairly attractive british guy. but michelle isn’t the only one that seems tickled fucking pink by this new guy. “peter!’ ned calls him over. peter forces his feet to move. he slides into the seat beside some girl he doesn’t know. she smiles warmly at him. he exchanges an effortful grin back. “I’m Gwen,” the girl introduces herself. her accent is sweet and lilting. he is almost charmed by it. “Peter,” he replies, offering his hand to shake.

the same twinkling laugh dances again. he snaps his eyes to mj and the british man that is apparently some kind of stand-up comedian. gwen supplies the answer to his unspoken question, “that’s harry. he’s our captain.” peter nods and tears his eyes away from the appalling sight. he promised he would stop staring. and, besides, michelle is his friend. it is the yellow dress. the yellow dress is to blame.

he looks at gwen who he decides is very pretty. she is more subdued than her captain. but she is quietly fierce. he can tell. “are you enjoying Vienna?” he asks. she tucks her long, dark hair behind her ear, “yeah, I am. after…” she trails off. “after…you know…I promised myself I would travel more.” he silently finishes her thought. he knows after the snap, after people were brought back into existence the entire universe had to find a way to cope, to shut out the memories of the vast nothingness. talking about the snap is a universal horror. and so, people rarely talk about it. at least, not directly.

peter understands better than most. he carries the snap. and the guilt of thanos. he had almost had the gauntlet free, god damn it. he had been so close. he had almost saved the neighborhood. almost.

gwen touches his knee with her hand. and he is pulled from his thoughts. “sorry,” he mumbles. she shakes her head, “no, don’t apologize. everybody carries it their own way.” “did you…?” he clamps his mouth shut. there is no gentle way to ask if someone had been dusted. and he doesn’t know this girl. in the gaping hole from gwen’s silence, peter hears mj laugh again. it weirdly stings.

gwen nods stiffly, “yeah.” peter rubs his eyes with the pads of his hands, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” “no,” she assures him, “no, really. it’s fine. we have to figure out a way to talk about it, you know?” and he isn’t sure he believes that. he doesn’t know how to talk about it. he doesn’t know how to even begin. no one does.

gwen feels like the kind of sympathetic soul that would welcome talking about the snap. but he doesn’t know her. they’ve just met. and it isn’t polite to talk about the snap. its not civilized conversation.

“anyway,” he lies with his smile, “has your league ever been to the world championship before?” if gwen senses his dishonesty, she has the good grace not to comment on it. she rolls her shoulders back and reaches for some of the shared plates on the table. she rips off of a bite of bread. “mhmm,” she says. “twice. Harry is determined to win this year. france beat us last year and switzerland the year before that.” the mention of harry has his eyes flitting across the table. he spots harry with his arm hanging loosely around michelle. peter isn’t sure he has ever seen anyone touch mj like that. he doesn’t mean to imagine its him.

the yellow dress is fucking him up. but there is something so familiar in that imagining. like, he has held her like that in another life. and he nearly chucks bread at harry’s head. because he can’t waltz into their group and hold her like he knows her. he doesn’t.

he doesn’t know the good days and the bad days. he doesn’t know the kinds of tea she drinks. or the way she laughs behind books to hide her smiles because he knows she’s self conscious of her one tooth which is downright adorable. he knows her. and he likes her. just the way she is.

which is another one of those revelations that freak him out. peter snaps his eyes back to gwen. pretty and sweet gwen. his aunt had told him before he left, when she had kissed his brow a little more desperately than she ever had before the snap, to enjoy Europe. kiss a pretty girl. make memories.

maybe gwen could be a memory.

he scratches the back of his head, “tell me if this is too forward but, uh, do you wanna go for a walk.” gwen’s eyes go wide with shock. peter shakes his head, embarrassed, “no. right. of course you don’t. sorry. That was weird. I didn’t mean to make it weird. I’m this random American you don’t even know.” “what? no. I would love to. just surprised.” “really?” his voice cracks, “I mean…really?” she gnaws on her lip to hide a smile, “really.”

without another word, he stands up and offers his hand. she takes it. her hand is small and delicate. the table doesn’t stop talking, doesn’t even notice them leave. all except one.

peter likes gwen, he decides on their walk. she is smart and funny and her accent is killer. he shouldn’t have watched the mummy movies as a kid. his crush on Rachel Weisz’s librarian character is really doing him in with gwen. its disarming.

together, they walk through Vienna and happen upon a market. she spots a blue pendant and peter feels compelled to buy it for her. he has more money than he knows what to do with now. courtesy of tony. he figures he can buy a pretty girl a necklace.

the man behind the counter for the necklace looks at him strangely. as if he is waiting for something. peter realizes it is his money. he drops the brightly colored bills into a fishbowl, the market equivalent for a cash register, and peter smiles. the seller still stares.

peter only breaks the weird stare-off when gwen asks him to put on the necklace and he complies.

which earns him a kiss. his first kiss, he realizes as he cradles the back of her head with his hand. spider-man didn’t leave much room for girlfriends or crushes. liz was one date that he ran out on. and then, after that, he’d been busy. on patrol. saving his small corner of the world. girls were not even a thought.

or, maybe they were. because as he kisses gwen, all he can think is that its wrong. she should be taller than him. and the kiss should have more bite to it. but he doesn’t want to fall deep into water he can’t tread, by thinking about this. so he decides to wade in shallow water. he kisses gwen back lightly. he enjoys it.

she giggles when they pull apart. and he smiles. “sorry,” he says immediately. she shakes her head, “no. uh. it was good. you’re a good kisser.” “cool,” he flushes. “its getting late,” she bounces a little, “I should be getting back. can’t let you beat us tomorrow.” peter laughs, “no. wouldn’t want that.”

she kisses him once more and before she can get away, he kisses her more deeply. he chases her mouth. her laughter tickles his breath. gwen rests her hands on his chest and repeats, “I have to go.”

he lets her go. and he pretends to care about watching her walk away.

when he gets back to their hotel, ned is pacing in their hotel room and mj is sitting bored on his bed. “thank GOD,” ned practically shouts, when peter walks in. peter startles. ned puts his hands on his hips, “where have you been?” “I told you he was fine,” mj quips. peter nods, “I was fine…wait…why are you here?” mj rolls her eyes, “ned was about to have a heart attack. you disappeared.” “did not,” he replies, “I was out with gwen.” “gwen?” ned asks. “the pretty girl in blue at the end of the table,” peter clarifies. ned grins stupidly, “you went off with a girl…” peter blushes which must give something away because mj slams her book shut. “well, he’s fine. I’m going to bed now, losers.”

“mj—” peter tries, but she slams the door on her way out. peter turns to look at ned, “what was that about? why was she even here?” “what?” ned blinks, “she’s our friend. she was worried.” peter grumps, “bullshit.” “she does,” ned insists, “and you went off on some adventure in a city we don’t know. she was worried. I was worried, too.”

peter looks after the closed door, “she changed out of the yellow dress.” and its like he almost expects the spell to be broken. the spell the yellow dress had cast over him. but, if possible, he was even more startled by the sight of her in her pajamas with messy hair in his bed. she looked like she belonged there. and he wanted hide away on some remote island until he could banish these feelings forever. they were making an idiot out of him.

he groans. ned gently probes, “what’s going on?” peter shrugs, “I think I like mj.” and saying it makes it real. and weird. and he hates that stupid yellow dress. he was happy being in denial.

ned gasps, “dude.” “I know,” peter replies. “but dude.” “I know.” and then, ned says something that peter never expects, “you gotta go tell her.” “what?” peter gapes. “no,” ned is radiating buoyant energy, “look, we’re in Europe. why not? why not now? make memories, May said. kiss pretty girls. michelle is a pretty girl.”

and it makes so much sense it freaks peter out. existential questions should not have simple, practical answers.

“what?” ned prompts him. “why not now? why not her?” “I kissed gwen,” peter replies. and its an excuse and an answer all at once. he isn’t sure he’s supposed to kiss one girl and then go tell another girl he likes her. it feels gross and dishonest. and by the way ned is looking at him, he seems to agree. “dude.” “I know.” “dude.” “I know.”

“well,” ned tries to dig them out of the hole he dug, “did you like kissing her?” “what? no. I mean, well, it was fine. but….I” peter flinches and sheepishly adds, “thought about mj the whole time.”

ned closes his eyes and groans, “dude.” “I know.” “dude.” “I know.” “idiot,” ned shakes his head. peter tries to defend himself, “she was all over that guy. harry or something.” the or something is a lie. he knows his name. it burned into his brain. ned thumbs peter’s arm, which doesn’t hurt anything except his pride. “dude.” “you idiot, harry and mj know each other. how do you think the dinner got set up? she’s the decathlon captain. he’s the decathlon president of his team. they’re pen pals. friends.” peter grumbles, “looked more than friendly to me.” “stop,” ned warns, “stop that right now. you’re the only person stopping you from making this a thing, peter. you.”

peter brushes some floppy hair out of his eyes and lets hope in, “you really think so?” a smile creeps up on ned’s features. and his best friend grandly gestures toward the door, “go forth.” “really?” peter knows he shouldn’t. but damn, he wants to so badly. “yeah,” ned nods, “absolutely.”

it is ned’s misplaced confidence that has peter bounding out of their hotel room and down the hall to michelle’s single. sally and cindy were doubled up. and as the third girl, she wasn’t allowed to be in a hotel room by herself. they never filled liz’s empty spot.

he knocks on his door and mj immediately opens the door. she looks confused and a little pissed to see him. “what?” she demands. and in front of her now, he doesn’t know what to say. he should have planned it. should have done better than realize he liked her because of some silly yellow dress. but, damn, what a dress. it was like distilled sunshine.

and he knows he should have known better earlier. because michelle was like finding for peace after years of war. he has been at war. for longer than a boy should have been.

he doesn’t say any of that poetic crap. instead, he puts his foot spectacularly in his mouth, “I kissed gwen.” the limited amount of openness that was dancing in mj’s eyes shuts down immediately. “okay,” she crosses her arms over her chest, “why are you telling me this, parker?” “uh,” and he doesn’t know. but he feels like he has to start there. “I just wanted you to know,” he says. “well, I know,” she reaches for her door and tries to close it in his face, “goodnight.” he blocks the door with his hand and does not let her close it. she does not seem surprised by his display of strength. in fact, it annoys her. “don’t use that shit against me, parker.” “what shit?” he asks. “your superhero shit. its cheating.” he gawks and she snorts, “what? you think you’re so slick? please.”

peter pushes his way into her room and she stumbles backward, effortfully keeping distance between them. “you know?” he says, astonished. he faintly registers the door clicking closed behind him. she looks away from him and shrugs one shoulder, “yeah, so?” “yeah. so.” he repeats dully, “this isn’t a yeah so kind of thing, mj.” “well,” she squints at him, “I didn’t lie. you did. so. yeah.” “didn’t lie,” he defends himself, “its more complicated than that. I was being discreet. keeping the people I care about safe.”

she snorts, “you’re so full of shit. ned knows. and I bet your aunt does, too. you kept it from the people that don’t matter.” “that’s not true. you matter.” “please, since when?” “I—” he closes his mouth. she smiles mirthlessly, “see? full of shit.”

he rubs his eyes, tiredly, “me not telling you about being a superhero isn’t me being full of shit. its not.” “did you really think having an internship with Tony Stark was as inconspicuous as you thought?” the mention of tony shuts him down. he sees the flash. Thanos. and then his mentor crumbling. dying on some nameless planet galaxies away from his home. his life.

he sits on the edge of her bed. crippled by the memory. he barely hears her curse under her breath. but he feels the bed dip when she sits beside him. “peter?” she tries. he doesn’t respond. she tries, again, “peter, please. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” “people who know die,” he replies, “and I didn’t tell ned or my aunt. they found out. and if I could have kept it from them, I would have.” he stands up, impassioned, “and we’re friends but its not like we’re close. I didn’t owe you that secret.”

“if we aren’t close,” she snaps, “then why are you here?” his eyes flick down to her lips, and he notices they are parted just so. and her chest is heaving. he knows his own breath is ragged. she notices. and breathlessly says, “this is because of that stupid yellow dress, isn’t it?” he steps toward her, invades her space, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she is slightly taller than him. he has to tilt his chin up slightly. its disarming. or maybe she is. he can’t tell.

she whispers, “yes you do.” he confirms, “you don’t believe that. it wasn’t the dress.” “you…” she struggles for words, “you never would have ended up here if not for the dress.” “em,” he says, and the foreign nickname feels right, “you don’t believe that either.” he knows the way she is looking at him, the way he knows he is looking at her, that they would have ended up here eventually.

once you stop pretending, its hard not to act.

and he realizes with a start that he has been acting for ages. when he sits beside her on the bus. when he buys her tea before school. when he blows off patrol to be at decathlon practice with her. action. for her. hell, he knows he’s only on this stupid trip because she asked.

if she asked him to march across a desert to get to her, he’d run.

there is the hum of a piano, playing a gentle line, in the back of his mind. he wonders if he makes up the tune. or if she does.

and he’s kissing her. once. twice. the slightest press. a simple question. she does not answer. so he asks again. and then, she is writing poetry against his mouth. winded, insistent poetry.

he has all of one other kiss to compare her kisses to and, still, he knows this kiss now blows all of the other kisses he would or could ever have out of the water. she is burning up the pages that any other girl could scribble to claim to his heart. until there is only her. only michelle.

“em,” he sighs. he has never wanted anyone like this before. he suddenly understands why people describe kissing like disarming. because he does not have any defenses. not against her. he surrenders completely.

and then, they are tipping backward on her bed. she is beneath him. and she is so maddeningly soft. her curves are a revelation. just like the yellow dress. she has peaks and valleys. and he explores every one with his hot, pressing hands. some places make her whimper, other make her arch, others make her tremble.

he pulled her into his arm. both arms. and they fight. or maybe they make peace.

michelle impatiently pulls at the fabric of his shirt. and he absolutely agrees. it is the stupidest article of clothing he has ever owned. he pulls it over his head and tosses it across the room. she sits up a little to press hot kisses up the center of his chest. he fists his hand in her curls.

he slants his mouth over hers again and they sit up together in an awkward configuration to kiss each other. he learns how to communicate through kisses. he learns how to kiss someone and have them kiss you back and come away smarter, worldlier, better.

she tries to pull her own shirt off, but he does not want to let her go. kissing her is so much better than whatever could be beneath her shirt. she forces him away and he is not stable so he falls on his back. and is proved so fantastically wrong.

she frees herself from her shirt and, holy hell, she is fantastic. she has so much skin. he wants to touch her. god, he wants to be allowed to touch her.

she nods, as if understanding him. and he doesn’t sit up. he pulls her down on top of him and kisses whatever skin he can get his hands on. wherever he is not, his mouth is. it is an absolutely foolproof solution.

he licks her nipple into his mouth and she shutters. it is like winning decathlon. it is like capturing a bad guy. it is so, so much better than all of that.

he flips her under his solid chest and goes to work on her chest. she yanks on his curls. and he doesn’t even mind. it is the best.

they are children in the dark learning everything. eager for one another. peter nips at her skin. she keens and pulls his hair hard.

its wonderful.

and then, she reaches for the zipper on his jeans. and cold water falls over the moment. dousing him and bringing his clouded mind into sunshine. the sun is bright and unwelcome. he liked the darkness better. he likes fumbling in the dark and finding magic.

“em,” he grabs her wrist and she shakes her head, kissing him hard. she tries to pull him back under ecstasy with her. it almost works. he wants it to work. “we shouldn’t,” the stupid, responsible part of his brain says. he doesn’t say that he never has done this before. it feels too vulnerable. and he doesn’t want to disappoint her.

but more than that, he doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want to know who has had her before. he wants to scratch out those names and burn only his into her mind.

half-naked under him, she kisses under his jaw. and it drives him insane. “michelle,” he swallows. “that’s sexy,” she bites his jaw, “say it again.”

“no,” he shakes his head free of cobwebs, “michelle, seriously.” “seriously,” she smirks, “say it again.” and damn him, he does. he learns she has a weak, breathy moan.

“parker,” she finally says when all of the blood finishes rushing to his dick, “if I didn’t want this…you would not get this…superhero or not.” he takes a deep breath, “this is happening so fast.” she kisses him fiercely, “we don’t know how much time we have.” her voice is exposed.

that hits him hard. the snap took so much. so much goodness. he doesn’t know. hell, he’s never asked. he doesn’t know if when the world fell away, if she stayed or if she went. and he can’t ask. because he doesn’t want to know. the idea of her crumbling into nothing is too much for him. because he had failed so many people when he didn’t get the gauntlet off of thanos. but he might have failed her, too.

and that. he can’t.

he can’t lose her.

she understands. without saying a word, he knows she understands. maybe not the specifics. he isn’t ready to talk about thanos. but with her, well, maybe one day he could.

he tucks a curl behind her hair and kisses her gently. her eyelashes flutter against his face. the storm passes. they weather their demons together with this kiss.

and they decide to save each other. quietly. in the dips of their kiss.

their clothes fall away like water. they drip onto the floor. and are forgotten. he kisses every inch of her skin that he can see. and she teaches him how to touch her. with quiet whispers. and guiding hands. their fingers overlap.

she starts to tremble. he dips an eager finger inside of her and then two. and she bites her bottom lip. he coaxes it open with his tongue. he doesn’t want her biting her lip. he wants to do that. he does.

she whimpers and he feels her fall apart. she cresses up against his chest and they are deliciously pressing against each other for several glorious seconds. and when she falls loosely back on her bed, her eyes are glassy and her lips are bitten from his kisses. he isn’t practiced enough to handle the way she looks. it takes absolutely everything in him not to join her over the edge of bliss. everything.

“don’t you dare, parker,” she warns. “I’m not done with you yet.” and he knows he is completely, utterly at her mercy.

she knows, too. and he hopes it is enough to convince her that he does care. he cares so much. he’s cared for so long. denial is a funny thing. it kept him away from her so long. they lost so much time. all of high school.

“I wanna be with you,” she admits. he nods dumbly. and keeps nodding until it hits him. she wants to be with him. like, be with him properly. he doesn’t even know, can’t even process. “oh,” is his eloquent response. she rolls her eyes but there is no malice behind it. she kisses him perfunctory. and he stupidly adds, “I’ve never…” “I figured,” she cuts him off. “I don’t have…” “I’m on the pill. and I know you’re clean. because duh.” he flushes. and he wants to ask about why she’s on the pill. but its rude. and none of his business. but damn, he wants to know.

if she senses his unspoken question, she doesn’t give it oxygen. she lets it die. she snuffs it out with a kiss.

she rolls him over on his back and her curls become a curtain around his face. it hides them from the rest of the world. and he is alone in looking up at her beautiful face. all of this is a gift he is not sure he has earned. he feels upside-down and, if he is, he never wants to be right-side up again.

she kisses him. it is chasing breath. it is concentrated gold. it is treasure. he kisses her back. and they fall together like unpracticed lovers do. it is not masterful. but it is meaningful.

she takes the lead. she grabs a hold of him and slowly lowers herself down on him.

and time and space slows down. he shivers. he can’t think or breathe. and it feels better than he ever imagined. she takes care of him. which is good. he feels like he is on the edge of death. knocking on the door to the other side.

until she starts to move. then, it all zeroes in on her. and he ascends to another plan of existence. his hands find her hips, the soft dips of her skin and he holds her there.

she lets her curls fall over one of her shoulders. and she tilts her chin down to look at him as she sets a sickly sweet pace. the rhythm is smooth.

he flexes his hands on her hips. he can’t last. this perfection can’t last. it will end.

she takes mercy on his pathetic body. she leans down so their chests are pressed. and hastens her rhythm. he is utterly dazzled. there are diamonds in his eyes.

she tears her nails down his chest. he hisses. and she kisses him hard. this part he can do. he kisses her wildly. and that does not stay concentrated to their mouths. he begins to buck up into her sloppily and hard. over and over again. and what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in energy. enthusiasm.

and with one more hard fuck. he sees white. the world becomes a wash. and he falls apart.

he skips rocks in the cosmos.

and when he comes back to his body, she is still on top of him, fucking the last bits of what she can out of him. he whimpers. it is too much. he can’t.

she takes the hint and rolls off of him.

he gulps down air.

“wow,” he says dumbly. she turns to look at him and there is something heartbreakingly soft about her like this. he knocks his nose against hers and kisses her sweetly. she folds into it.

then, her bottom lip wobbles. and he feels the wet tears on his face before he sees them. he pulls away and cups her face. “em?” she shakes her head and tries to settle her breathing, “I’m fine.” “michelle, you’re crying,” he points out. so she says, “why’d you have to put on that stupid suit and get yourself shot up into space? why didn’t you just stay on the bus?”

his heart cracks. it fractures. it aches. “michelle.” she shakes her head, “you only just caught up, parker. I’ve been here for ages. waiting for you to look back.” “I’m looking now,” he says weakly. but he knows it isn’t enough. she wipes hastily at her face, “why? why now? after all this time?” “I—” “why?”

he pulls her into his arms. because he wants to hold her. because he never wants to let go.

suddenly he remembers something gwen said to him. she promised herself after the snap she would travel more. and he supposes everyone after the snap made their own promises. made their peace with the things that felt too hard, too much, or too risky. there was more to life than getting from day to day. life was about living.

“after the dusting,” he starts, “after I came back…I didn’t want to do anything. I wanted to lay in bed and let life stop happening. but you didn’t let me. you made me come to school, to practice, to this stupid trip. and I came because I would do anything you asked me to. absolutely anything. em, I’m so sorry it too me so long to get here. but I’m here now. and, if you’ll have me, I want you. yellow dress. no yellow dress. hair a mess. lips bitten red from my kisses. I want you.”

and it is dumb. he knows its dumb. but he doesn’t know how else to say how he feels. he hopes she knows. he hopes she understands. she felt like she understood. when they were together. when she kissed him. and led him on a wild trip through the stars.

she searches his face for answers he is not sure he has. she doesn’t speak. she curls up beside him. and it is not an answer. but it is enough. for now, this is everything.

he leaves a few hours before the sun rises. and she kisses him again. when he gets back to his room, ned is mercifully sleeping. he does not know what he would say to him.

and he goes to sleep with a smile on his face.

when he wakes, ned doesn’t say a thing about michelle. there is some kind of unspoken rule between them. a cone of silence that they will not talk about the mj-all-night-disappearance. and he feels good.

until the worry sets in. the reality. the sunrise after the stars.

he realizes after…they did not speak. she kissed him and held him. but now he wonders if he should have spoken up, asked what it meant. if their night was one night. but it felt too late to ask those questions. dawn was his mistress now. tearing him away from her forever.

when she sits beside him at breakfast, he torturously waits. waits for the other shoe to drop. she does not talk to him directly. she addresses the team and starts to drill them for the decathlon match. the world cup. it is like any day at midtown. nothing has changed, like he feared. flash and abe get into a debate over one of her questions. peter is paralyzed the entire breakfast.

and then, under the table, she closes her hand around his fingers. his heart thuds loudly. he is sure everyone hears the erratic pattering. no one stops arguing. the impromptu breakfast practice continues.

and he holds her hand. and doesn’t let go. she doesn’t either.

everything, for that moment, is better. so much better than it has been in a long time. since thanos. since tony. since he lost the world.

then, his phone buzzes. he manages to pull it out of his pocket with one hand. there is an Avengers alert. something he has never seen before. something the team must have installed after the snap. he glances up at ned who looks more worried than confused. peter’s face must betray his concern. he does not think michelle manages to read his phone, but she squeezes his hand impossibly tight. and he thinks she might have managed anyway.

he reluctantly lets go of her hand. the whole table looks at him. he is doing it again. he is ditching before a major competition. he is running off. and disappointing his teammates. he lamely says, “I gotta go. to the bathroom. don’t, uh, feel well.” flash rolls his eyes, “you’re doing this again, parker?” michelle sticks up for him but her voice sounds hollow, “if he says he’s not feeling well, he’s not feeling well, flash.” “you’re just gonna let him get away with this shit?” ned jumps in, “he wasn’t feeling well last night. must have been something he ate.” abe snickers, “or someone he kissed.”

michelle goes rigid. she heard about gwen. he told her. but it feels sickly and gross coming out of abe’s mouth. “dude,” ned nudges abe. he looks helplessly at michelle who takes a deep breath and blows forward, “if he doesn’t feel well, he doesn’t feel well. I’ll get him situated then meet you all at the competition hall.” “but—” “no buts,” she cuts flash off.

peter makes a show of looking hopelessly ill as she marches him back to his room. and when they are free of questioning eyes, when he is safe in his room. she grabs his face and kisses his furiously. he dips into the space she occupies in his brain that knows only her. knows only this. “what’s going on?” she finally pulls away. and he is sufficiently dazed. “I don’t know,” he replies. he pulls out his phone and reads something about visions and magic and hypnosis or some shit. it hardly makes sense. “I don’t know,” he says again, “but I gotta go. I’m so sorry.” she looks conflicted, kisses him once more (which he decides he could get used to), and nods confidently, “go get ‘em, tiger.” and he can’t not kiss her again for that. he launches himself out of his window in the suit and karin springs to life. guiding him right into the jaws of the fight.

there are people, scores of them, standing as if stunned still in the middle of a square not far from his hotel. and he wonders if somehow he attracts danger. as if wherever he goes, the lunatics follow. the man standing in the middle of the still as statues crowd has his back to peter.

and he is wearing a fishbowl on his head. or maybe its some kind of astronaut gear. but it feels unhinged. it feels more threatening than funny. still, he quips, “you lost, sandy cheeks?” “ah,” the disfigured voice echoes from the bowl, “you came. I thought you might after that distress signal.” “how…” peter trails off and then it clicks, “you sent that? how did you send that?” “how indeed, mister parker, how indeed.” the fishbowl man turns around and peter recognizes him. he is the man from the market. the man that he bought gwen’s necklace from. “you,” he whispers. the market man smiles, “me.” the man shoots his hand out.

and peter falls into darkness.

#ficlet #ffh headcanons #trash can

164 notes · View notes

iheartbuckynat · 7 years ago

Text

Infinity War Spoilers (I need to vent and word-vomit and I have SO MANY EMOTIONS)

Random thoughts and a ton of spoilers...

Who is/going to be permanently dead:

I’m actually only worried for the following characters: Heimdall, Loki and Vision. Gamora will quite clearly be one of the central figures to bring about Thanos’ demise since they’ve suggested pretty heavily that she’s trapped in the Soul Stone. Also, they can’t make a GotG 3 without her (and of course they’ll make a 3rd one). Plus it goes a long way to explain/lessen their use of the whole ‘kill a woman for all the man-pain’ trope, which would be kinda terrible if that really was the true plan (and I don’t think the Russos would stoop to quite that level). So yeah, Gamora will be fine.

Shuri might fix Vision, but like Jarvis and Groot whose successors are different people, I doubt Vision will be completely the same. Who knows, maybe Shuri did something to download his memories/personality? (One can only hope!)

Loki’s growth throughout the MCU has been huge and he’s now gone full circle: from hero to villain to anti-hero back to hero. He repaired his relationship with Thor, but he killed people in the past and so he has a lot to answer for, plus there’s no plot-driven need to bring him back, his death is good revenge-fuel for Thor (even though a 3rd fake death might be nice and in keeping with who Loki is - the trickster who always gets away - they did really hammer home in the movie that this was for real... doth Thor hammer it home a little too much, though? Mayhap. Or maybe I’m just being naïvely hopeful). Heimdall, as beloved as he is, is a secondary character. Unless they bring ALL of Asgard back - which would be nice, since Thor could kind of go there and rule a less colonial-like version of it for the rest of his days after they defeat Thanos (he’s obviously not going to stay on Earth since Hemsworth’s contract is up), but I don’t know. It would be kind of cruel to erase everything Waititi did in Ragnarok (or maybe that’s why he was able to have so much fun? Because he knew that IW was going to need a destroyed Asguard to work? So he had a lot of freedom to play?)

Those 4 were the only ones not ‘snap’ killed (aside from the Asgardians on the ship - and, yeah, they better not have killed off Valkeryie! I am hoping she’ll turn up in A4? Thanos only killed half of all the Asgardians so I’m thinking she took the survivors to get away when Thanos let them go, and that when they’re safe she’ll come back? Maybe even with Sif? (Doubtful, though)).

As a lot of other people have mentioned, Captain Marvel is in the 90s and there have been rumours of time travel. Those who were snap killed will certainly return so I’m not worried about any of those deaths... But I love Heimdall and Loki, and I’d feel bad for Wanda if Vision didn’t come back.

I hope they do bring them back.

I hope Valkyrie escaped with Korg and some of the others and is keeping them safe on some random planet. T_T

I’m also a little worried for Steve, Thor and Tony, although since they pulled a semi-‘gotcha’ with Tony looking like he was certainly going to die only to survive, and with all their mentions of a wedding and kids, I think they’re done with the ‘is Tony going to die’ drama and just have him retire. It’s been 3 Iron Mans, 2 Avengers and a Captain America of Pepper/Tony angst. CACW was the full break-up drama, and for the past 2 films, Pepper and Tony have been happy. They’re not going leave them in a bad place. It’s a superhero movie, and to paraphrase Deadpool, I doubt they’ll go DC-dark.

Hopefully they’ll let Steve retire too, but that tweet about Buckycap from the Russo brothers could go 3 ways (retired Steve leaves it to Bucky; dead Steve inspires Bucky to become Cap; or the Russos were faking it - they did lie to us via the trailers, they had fake scripts etc so it’s not impossible) so honestly, I don’t know. They might have to kill off Steve. I don’t want that. Let Steve rest. And it might just be plausible for him to do that after he meets Captain Marvel. She and the new generation of Avengers could give him enough peace of mind to let him retire.

I don’t think Thor’s going to die. They just spent this whole movie telling us that Thor continues to want to help people even when he has nothing left. Usually a character like that is axed in the end to ‘be with those he lost’ or some other trope-y nonsense (it’s not a plot ending I usually enjoy, as you can tell...) and I didn’t get that feeling here. I think, even if we don’t see Thor again in the MCU after A4, they’ll have him off-camera either ruling a remade Asgard/rebuilding a home for the remaining Asguardians, or traversing the nine realms, helping people.

By the way, he was, hands down, the best thing about this movie. They kept all the important parts of Ragnarok, I could see them, and they married it so, so, so well to his more serious side. He felt right. It felt like this was him at his fullest potential. The height of this long personal-growth story from Thor 1. I love that Pirate/Angel baby.

The Death reactions:

Everyone is commenting on how Tom Holland nailed his scene, and he did. He 100% totally did. I was weeping for that poor, scared child. It was like a stab to the heart. And for Tony, knowing there was nothing he could do but hold him... oh my gosh. It tore my heart to shreds. A+++ Tom Holland.

A lot of people said similar things about how well done Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany’s scene was. And it did get my feels going, but there were others that hit me just as hard, literally just as hard as the other two: Okoye seeing T’Challa disappear before her, and her cries for him to come back, just as we see Sam disappear, alone, no-one there with him (Rhodes arrives too late to see it happen) and Rocket has to watch, again, as a beloved Groot dies (... and oh jebus he doesn’t know yet that the ENTIRETY of the GotG gang are dead except for him). Okoye lives to serve Wakanda, she loves T’Challa (not romantically, of course), to her he is the embodiment of Wakanda. Her entire being is dedicated to protecting him, her friend, her king and he just... disappears in front of her. The horror in her eyes, the helplessness of her voice as she begs him to come back... I’m tearing up right now.

Don’t even get me started on Steve. Bucky was the first to go via snap death, and I do have a soft spot for him, so it hit me like a ton of bricks; Steve barely had time to register Vision’s second death and their overall failure before he loses the one thing he had left to tie him to his past - one of the few people he really loved (romantically or platonically, however you choose to interpret it, Bucky mattered). Steve Rogers has been through a lot. This sucked. It sucked so hard. All of these characters have lost so much, and Steve’s no exception. And we didn’t even get a BuckyNat moment (not that I’m mad about it, tbh. I’m glad they resolved the Brutasha thing nicely and kept Bruce’s character from Ragnarok (Waititi’s anxious, awkward nerd is so much better than Whedon’s hypocritical jerk nerd). It’d be way too soon to suggest BuckyNat, but I hope maybe to see it in the BW movie and maybe get a hint of it in A4?)

And then there was Drax. Oh my gosh, Drax! I didn’t realise just how attached to him I was until he was disappearing. I was not prepared for his panic, his soft calling out to Quill, not understanding what was happening to him and desperate for Peter to stop it. It was all just so terribly sad. No matter what he says, it just shows how much he looks to Peter as his leader, how much he loves him. I wanted to hug that big lug.

And then of course, there was Thor watching Heimdall and Loki die... I don’t even want to remember that... and mourning his brother? It was, like, the first 5 minutes and already I was balling. Damn you, Marvel. Damn you.

Ok, that’s enough sad talk.

Things I loved:

- Cap, Widow and Falcon’s entrance. So badass. SO BAD ASS.

- Black Widow in this movie. This was like CAWS Black Widow. This is the BW I love. She didn’t have much screen time but every moment felt right with her.

- Thor’s... everything, really. Every second he was on screen, conscious or unconscious. He was funny, kind, breaking stereotypes, powerful, cool, bad ass... he’s my favourite.

- Peter’s pop culture references. And his basing plans on 80s movies.

- Those plans working.

- Ned. He was on screen for 30 seconds and he made me cackle.

- AVENGERS ICE-CREAM.

- “WHY is Gamora?”

- Wong. He was there for 5 minutes and he was hilarious. “200 rupees” XD

- Drax being ‘invisible’.

- The Gamora/Nebula bond.

- “Dude. You’re embarrassing me in front of the wizards.”

- THE BUCKY AND ROCKET MOMENT WHERE ROCKET WANTS BUCKY’S ARM. THAT’S ALL I ASKED FOR AND THEY DELIVERED. AND BUCKY LITERALLY PICKED UP ROCKET AND TWIRLED HIM AROUND SO HE COULD KILL MORE EFFECTIVELY. THEY ARE KINDRED SPIRITS. WHO BOTH LOVE GUNS AND WERE REPEATEDLY MADE AND UNMADE AND WERE TORTURED AND FELT SO UNLOVED AND OK NOW IT’S BECOMING SAD AGAIN.

- Okoye and her hilarious quips.

- The GotG intro.

- PETER DINKLAGE. WHO IS A GIANT DWARF.

- “Not if I don’t die.”

- Bruce’s inner Hulk conflict.

- Rhodes messing with Bruce.

- “If you throw another moon at me I’m gonna lose it.”

- Peter Quill being jealous of Thor.

- “I would have washed that.”

- Tony’s nano tech.

- Bucky and his quips.

- How Peter got the Iron Spider suit.

- The Red Skull?!!?!?

- “You speak Groot?” / “It was an elective.”

- Understanding Thanos’ terribly flawed plan, his dedication to it and why he really does believe it’s for the greater good, and his genuine, proven, deep love for his favourite daughter. That’s what makes him so terrifyingly real. Real monsters aren’t just evil for the sake of being evil. Real monsters have good parts to them. They love, they’re the heroes of their own stories. But those redeeming features are no excuse for their monstrosity, their vileness. He’s an excellent, complex and terrifying super-villain.

- How Shuri awed Bruce with her super brain.

- Whoever thought to put Rocket, Groot and Thor together.

- “Rabbit”

- “Morons”

- Fury’s “motherfuc-“

- “This is my friend, Tree.” / “I am Groot” / “I am Steve Rogers”.

Where were these characters?!

Antman, Hawkeye and Nakia? I assume it’s because they’ll have biggish roles in A4? It also leads me to think the Antman & Wasp movie might have some serious significance to A4. We already know that the upcoming Captain Marvel will be important, for obvious reasons, but I’m thinking that since Antman & Wasp is the next movie to be shown after IW, it’s probably going to give us something (is that really obvious to other people and I’m just missing something? XD)

(Also, again, where was Valkyrie? And while I’m at it, where was Betty Ross? Will she turn up on A4? Or was that fake too?)

I’m going to go weep in a corner now.

#iw spoilers #iwspoilers #infinity war spoilers #infinity war #avengers infinity war

95 notes · View notes

bellamyblake · 7 years ago

Text

Bellarke+their story being a legend:

Kara Green is the first one to find something that was actually touched by Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin; she’s fifth generation Green, her great-great-great oh hell...whichever great it is grandpa was one of the original hundred who were sent to the ground; she doesn’t know too much about him, about any of them, and that frustrates her to no end because if there was something she thoroughly enjoyed, it was history;

so when she accidentally finds a book of drawings in a very old unused bunker, she’s fascinated; they are not only beautiful, they tell a story through pictures; she could see kids coming out of something that looked like a dropship; she saw a beautiful girl with a knee brace making bombs and a boy with googles helping her; she found someone who must’ve been her grandpa Monty drinking with the same googly boy, she saw a girl with war paint on her eyes and another one with a sword next to a big guy with tattooes; there were many of a freckly boy with curly hair and a rifle hanging from his shoulder as well as a girl with golden hair standing right next to him; and many many more like that, telling different stories about people that no longer were;

what she knew about Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake was more or less the fairy tale her father told her before bed; they were the leaders of the hundred, they fought together, led together, raged wars, destroyed bad guys,survived a second apocalypse and eventually, many years after that, established a new camp for the remaining delinquents and got married, thus starting a big family (they had seven kids, six of them girls and the youngest one, a boy);

but beyond that, there weren’t any actual records that explained their actions or what kind of leaders and people they were; there was nothing; which for Kara, was a total shame-this was the story of their people and even if they all have been living as a Wonkru for generations now, it still mattered to her;

so she decided to take the matters into her own hands and find any remaining Griffin-Blake heirs and talk to them about it; they must’ve kept their family history better, they must know the story of their ancestors;

however, despite the fact that they Clarke and Bellamy had many kids, it turned out that finding some of them wouldn’t be as easy as she thought; four out of their seven kids died quite young, one by illness, two in war (it seemed the Griffin-Blakes were excellent leaders and warriors) and one at childbirth and most of them had married into different clans all throughout the Wonkru territory; she managed to find some great-great-oh hell...grandkids, but most of them had assimilated a different culture, some were even hostile to her and told her to go away, because she realized...they were still afraid and wanted to keep their heritage a secret; the legend of the skypeople still terrified some clans and they believed a person from that group brought bad luck;

however, she doesn’t give up; she finds evidence of a gandson of Clarke and Bellamy’s only son Augustus and decides to travel further East, though she couldn’t be sure he’s even alive; life in the East parts was harder, there wasn’t as much game or food and even if he should be in his late twenties maybe even thirties, he still might not be alive;

after two weeks of roaming the woods, she passes out near a river after exhausting all her provisions and barely getting any decent sleep; she thinks how stupid she’s been to come here chasing ghosts, that man is probably not even alive and even if he was, he could be in a completely different place; her last thoughts before she passes out is that she’ll be eaten by the wolves and that she’ll break her poor grandma Hannah’s heart;

however, she wakes up in a cave, a fire burning up next to her and a big man who makes her scream out in fear, skinning a squirrel;

“Easy...” he says, his voice is deep and calming “I’m not going to hurt you!” when the fire lights up his face, she gasps for it looks exactly like the face of Bellamy Blake in the sketchbook she has in her bag “I found you!” she exclaims as she sits up “I can’t believe I found you!”;

he seems taken aback before she explains who she is and what she’s even doing here; he is tense at first, seemingly scared (maybe he led a lonely life?) but after a while, when he realizes she’s just a twenty year old kid in search of ghosts and legends, he relaxes;

his name is Noah Griffin-Blake; his father-Jake Griffin-Blake was the son of Eden Griffin-Blake, who was the only surviving child of Augustus Griffin-Blake, the son of Clarke and Bellamy; so yeah, he is the real deal; moreover, if his looks are any indication, he definitely wasn’t lying to her;

he takes her to his cabin, which is huddled between the mountains; he lived on his own, had a beautiful mare, some goats and chickens as well as some land with stuff he grew himself; he was a loner, always has been; can’t stand the few big cities that were currently thriving throughout Wonkru territory, instead he preferred hunting and trading with the tribes in the nearest village;

he’s quite beautiful, Kara notices; and he does make inappropriate shitty comments but it seems his heart is big; he loves his dog which looks more like a wolf than an actual puppy to her and he proudly explains that Bellamy started breeding them and there were barely 10 such dogs throughout the country;

“I need the story” she says after showing him the sketchbook “Do you know it?” he smiles and stands up, bringing a heavy book with black leather covers and putting it down in front of her “But of course I know it”;

it turns out he has a bigger, more detailed sketchbook as well as a few stories written by none else but Bellamy Blake himself (he had a pretty funny handwriting, all block letters); Noah talks, tells her everything and it’s nothing like the story her dad used to tell her before bed;

for the first time, she sees Bellamy and Clarke not as fictional characters, but rather as people...people who had their flaws and their talents, people who led and made mistakes quite often but also fought to death to save their friends; she finds out they destroyed Mount Weather by killing everyone in it and that Clarke left him after that; she finds out Bellamy often acted out with his heart instead his head and thus made sometimes irrational decisions; their hands were bloody more often than not, but one thing was for sure-their hearts beat for their friends;

Noah shows her who Monty, her great grandpa is and how he lost his friend Jasper, the boy with the googles, which is a sad story on it’s own; he tells her Monty fell in love with a girl called Harper, she died a year after giving birth to their only child though and then he lived the rest of his life with a man called Miller, who was her other great-grandfather and who she had no idea existed; he was Bellamy’s best friend and the best man on their wedding;

she finds out about Raven Reyes, the girl with the brace and that she died without leaving kids behind but that she did have a lover, a girl, as far as Noah knows, it was a grounder but he wasn’t sure of the name; she hears all the stories of the hundred and their parents and the way they lived on the Ark and then back down on earth; what breaks her heart most is the stuff Bellamy and Clarke went through, how they were always so damn fucked up by circumstances, some of the stuff they did seemed so impossible now, she can’t imagine the situations they were put in and how they had to make choices; Noah laughs that it took them years to admit they loved each other and it was a running joke in his family that the Griffin-Blake boys just sucked at flirting and getting over themselves when it came to admitting their feelings; “Do you know he used to call her princess? It pissed her off to no end.”/”And is this really him as well?” Kara asks as she points out a sketch of Bellamy with beard and longer hair ”Yes, that’s after he came back to earth. Dad used to say when the Griffin-Blake men were away from their loved ones they grew depression beard”;

they talk and talk and talk and he tells her all about them, but also about his family; he says he doesn’t have any siblings but his father had sisters and they had kids; he hasn’t seen them in years, though, they were living all across the country; his mother died young and his dad raised him but had a weak heart and left him a few years ago;

“Do you know how Bellamy and Clarke died?” Kara asks on her third glass of moonshine; he smiles “Like they did everything else of course” she raises her eyebrow “Together. By the end Clarke got sick, they weren’t really sure what exactly was wrong with it but my dad claimed it’s probably something like cancer due to all the radiation she was exposed to. Bellamy remained by her side, refusing to leave her for more than five minutes at a time; staying in bed with her, holding her in his arms and telling her story after story. He was an amazing storyteller.” she nods, she knew that “Anyway, no one really knows what happened with him but they were both found dead in bed early one morning by your grandpa Monty actually. The more romantic people say he died because he refused to live even a minute on earth without her.” Noah shrugs “My dad said his father Eden, told him he probably had a heart attack. His heart grew weaker with the years, because he gave so much of it away, he used to say. I think they just led really stressful lives and with time Bellamy must’ve developed a condition. He was forced to become a father at the age of six, so how his heart took all that and everything after, is a miracle for me.” he adds his own thoughts while she puts down his words in her notebook “It’s a genetic disease, apparently, it goes down on Bellamy’s kids, since my father had a weak heart too, his dad didn’t, but one of his sisters died early in her thirties and her granddad too before that so...” he shrugs and she swallows hard, pushing away the thought of Noah maybe being sick too like that;

she stays a few more days and they talk almost all the time; she tries to put down everything he says and Noah feels his heart lighter around her; a terrible storm, keeps her there for another week and she has to delay her departure; then when the sky is clear, she finds him working on his farm early one morning and realizes he could definitely use the help and even though she hasn’t worked outside ever in her life and is probably more trouble than help, she stays yet another week; then it is him, coming back from a hunting trip with an arrow through his shoulder and her almost having a heart attack at the sight of bloody him;

a month later she’s still there and she has no intentions of leaving;

they marry in a year and have their first kid, a daughter nine months later; even though she argues with Noah, who claims they’ll have a bunch of girls before they get a boy like it is in his family, he turns out to be right; of course he is, and ten years later they are granted a son, the seventh kid in their family, a small boy with dark curly hair and a myriad of freckles spread all over his face and back;

and she’s at peace, for she knows that she was wrong when she thought their history was gone, the legend of Bellamy and Clarke will live for centuries after she’s no longer on earth and the evidence was the crying kid in her hands and Noah’s lips on her forehead;

#the 100 #bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #im posting this because it's been a tough day for us all #and i never wanted to post it #but i am doing it now #anyway #lemme shut up real quick #and one that took me forever to write #it's a super long one #mine

86 notes · View notes

nautilusopus · 7 years ago

Text

The Number I

Chapter 15: Aeris Also Buys a Snack but Does Not Get Hit by a Truck in the Process

So this thing was originally one 12k+ chapter. That’s enough for two short chapters but pacing wise it’s meant to be one thing, so I’m gonna split it in two and post the next chapter the very next day.

Thank you @auncyen, @limbostratus, @cateringisalie, @cloud-and-tifa, and @fury-brand, the latter of which is indirectly responsible for a couple of the bits in here.

There are holes in the world, and spaces between numbers. Neither should exist. Cloud starts noticing them, and he isn’t the only one who has. And unfortunately for him, he’s both. (Contains graphic depictions of violence.)

Aeris had been staring at Zack and Cissnei huddled around her phone for the last three hours. She knew it was three hours because the battery finally ran down on whatever terrible game they'd been emulating and Zack complained loudly about the fact that it was supposed to last longer. She was supposed to be reviewing the transcript -- she'd been the one the most pushy about their schedule, after all. It's not like there wasn't anything to review, either -- new information on how families were structured, this time without any nonsense about larvae and eggs; the absolutely clusterfuck awaiting her with the fact that she'd have to explain they were in contact with a civilisation that took an "anything goes" approach to both warfare, human rights, and diplomatic relations, that would be fun to deal with; and a few interesting tidbits that seemed to hint at a religion of some sort -- a mention of gods, plural, except on occasion only god, singular, and something rather curious about the planet asking for a name, and a mention of returning to it, clearly hinting at some sort of implied afterlife. She'd have to ask about that later. She had scribbled a note in shorthand that she probably wouldn't remember to check later and had let her attention wander.

Instead, she was thinking about how to best approach her coworkers. Waking up next to someone like that back in Cloud's room, it had been nice. It had been a long time since she'd experienced something like that -- maybe when she was eighteen and had begun dating for its own sake? She'd never really had much in the way of peers, due to being repeatedly jumped grades and put in classes with people several years her senior. And after that, her work had always made her too busy for any sort of social excursions. Besides, who would she even go out with in the first place?

Cissnei was already friends with her, or at the very least was an acquaintance, though she wasn't sure how comfortable she'd be with casual human contact (which was such a strange thing to be uncomfortable with, in her opinion). Zack was fueled by fifteen percent coffee and eighty-five percent machismo, it seemed like, which could either mean he'd been looking for an excuse to get extremely familiar with everyone, or did not even remotely consider anyone else here his equal. Tseng was allergic to fun. Angeal seemed good-humoured enough, but in a dry, professional way. Lazard was technically her physician and they weren't really supposed to get overtly familiar with their patients.

Teachers were easy enough to get along with, though. She wheeled her chair over to Angeal with a good shove off the counter.

"Busy?"

Angeal shrugged. "Not particularly. Much of my work won't be starting for another week or so, though I have gotten portions of it done early... was there something you needed?"

"A sounding board, preferably. I'd like to get my thoughts in order." She straightened her printed copy of the transcript out from their last conversation, reading over some of the more interesting parts of it. The interference seemed to be gone for now.

I talked to your friend.

Teefah (sp?), or Reeve?

Teefa. She seems nice. How long have you known her?

Years. you'd have to ask her that.

I see. How long is a year for you out of curiosity?

like in days?

Perhaps? For that matter, how long would you say a day is?

24 hours (clarify cesium-133 second standard later?).

Good. So how many of those in a year?

358, except when it's 360 every 6 years.

So then how old are you?

25, I think.

You don't know?

No. I don't remember a lot from before I was 14 (age of enlisting, maybe coincidence)

Any reason why?

Mako poisoning I think. It does funny things to your head.

Is it all just a big blank?

I remember Ma. don't know how she looked, or what she was like. she returned to the Planet when I was 16.

I'm sorry for asking but does that mean she's dead?

Yes. That's what that means.

I'm sorry for your loss.

Why are you apologising? you didn't kill her. hard to miss something you don't remember

Doesn't it bother you?

Of course it bothers me. but she's gone, and nobody's alive that remembers her. So there's no point in trying to get her back. it's not like I don't have a family now anyway.

"He's obviously hiding something big," said Angeal. "The question is, is he hiding it because it's personal or is he hiding it because he knows it's relevant?"

"How do you go about asking that?" said Aeris. "This is the first conversation we've had where he didn't tell me to fuck off once. If he knows it's relevant, he'd tell us, wouldn't he? So we have the information we need to move onto the next stage and stop messing with his head."

"Would he?" Angeal gestured to another page of the transcript.

Why are all the doctors afraid of you? Are they prejudiced? Are you a minority subspecies?

the last time I was in here I broke a lady's arm.

Why?

Said I would. I said, you stick me with that needle, I'll break your damn arm in half. I told her. I warned her. I'm a man of my word. Didn't need her fucking flu shot anyway.

"He doesn't seem to have much sense of what's good for him, is the point I'm trying to make," said Angeal.

"But what we're trying to do is going to directly benefit him --"

"I'm not certain he cares. He's very... spirited. Try appealing to his better nature."

Aeris gave him a look, then shook her head. "I'm going to try speaking to Tifa about it. She seems interested in his wellbeing. If I just explain to her we're trying to help... what do you think he could be hiding anyway?"

"...Maybe he's just embarrassed," offered Angeal.

"He's done all this over embarrassment? He said he'd tell me eventually. I don't understand why he's like this." She looked over the papers again. "He's younger than I thought."

"He's your age."

"He is." She's been thinking of him as older, but it seemed he was actually a year younger give or take. She'd gotten used to most people she knew being her senior by twenty years or so. The fact that she was technically the "adult" in this situation in more ways than one was something she hadn't considered. Perhaps that's why he'd calmed down as she'd stopped trying to prove herself to him. She went back to reading the transcript.

What does it mean, to return to the Planet?

It means a lot of things to a lot of people. But we all come from the Planet, and when we die, our souls return to it. For a long time, everyone thought that's what the Promised Land was, too

So you're Jewish?

I'm what?

Never mind. It's a religion. For instance, I'm a Jew. We have one god, and one day hope to return to the Promised Land. Do you have religions?

Yeah.

What's yours?

I don't know.

So, you don't believe in any of them?

I didn't say that. I just said I didn't know. I don't remember anymore. Same as Tifah's, I guess. With the gods of the hearth and the gods of the mountain and the sky, and their circular war.

And when you return to the Planet, do you meet these gods?

I mean, some people think that. I guess maybe I did too. I don't know. What are you asking, exactly? Returning to the Planet isn't a belief, like the gods of the hearth. It's a fact, like gravity.

I'm sorry. I didn't intend to be rude.

You weren't rude. I just don't get how you don't understand that.

"He's very devout," commented Angeal. Aeris shook her head.

"It was more than that. The way he said it..." she pondered, "he wasn't angry. It was... it was as though he really didn't know how I didn't know about his culture. It must be very ingrained. You know how every culture on Earth, or very nearly, has some sort of flood story, suggesting something like that really did happen?"

"So you're suggesting there was some... mass earthquake?" asked Angeal.

"Maybe. We could do with an anthropologist, too."

"How many spare rooms do we have left?"

"...Not enough for an anthropologist," admitted Aeris. "Nobody expected to find anything more than rocks and germs. They might shut the project down even if I hadn't thrown our ambassador into traffic, just because we're underprepared for this. Come back to it in another year or two."

"You think they would, after all this?"

"I don't know. Maybe." She stared at Angeal. She wasn't actually sure if they were closer or not. Suddenly it didn't seem to matter much -- they might not see each other again for a while if the entire thing was shut down. It was such a stupid thing to try and engineer, too.

Instead, she just got up and hugged him. She made her way around the room with everyone, even managing to get a confused hug back from Zack and Cissnei before heading back to her room to organise her findings.

There wasn't anything that was scientifically helpful. The atmospheric content had been useful information, at least. Though she couldn't imagine them ever getting to a point in her lifetime where she'd get to walk around on another world with no isolated air supply. She looked over the transcript again.

If you're not sure how old you are, is there any way you normally keep track of it?

We normally mark it based on the day you're born. I think I was born sometime in the summer, so we just decided it should be the first day of August.

August as in the month August? Did you have an Augustus Caesar?

I don't know. Haven't heard of them. But I'm not good at history.

Sorry. Continue.

So, every year we celebrate the day you're born with a small party. We call that a birthday.

We have those as well. Please continue to tell me about your celebratory customs.

She smiled a bit. That wasn't quite how the conversation had gone...

Do you do presents?

Yeah. Do you?

Aeris had been examining a patch of skin on her arm where she was sure there had been a needle hole. Injuries didn't seem to stick here, between this and the coma. She'd made a note to ask Cloud about that as well. But she hadn’t yet.

Yes. I got a bottle of very fancy champagne and some garden tools from a colleague. But my birthday is in the winter, so I had to wait until the ground thawed out to use them. The tools, I mean, not the champagne, she added with a hint of distaste. She hadn't really cared for the champagne, either. It had tasted terrible and not at all sweet, which probably meant it was extra expensive and it was extra undignified to say you didn't like it. Apparently she wasn't even supposed to open it, she was just supposed to let it sit on a shelf for another ten years.

I get tools for my birthday sometimes. Wrenches and screwdrivers, not garden tools. Don't really need 'em anymore, but it's nice when someone remembers I like that kind of thing. One time I got a knife, though.

What kind of a knife?

Hunting knife.

That big one under your pillow?

That's the one.

Have you ever stabbed anyone with it before?

No. There's never been any reason to. Not until recently, anyway, but then that's what I've got my sword for.

Was that a present as well?

It was, yeah. But it was from me.

Why a sword? Why not a gun? You have guns in your world, right?

Because I'm better with a sword. Duh. And because swords are better. If you're going to kill someone, you should do it with your own two hands instead of pressing a button. Have some respect.

Yes, but a gun would be a lot more efficient.

No it wouldn't. Not for me. And guns are stupid.

Yes, but --

Have you ever used a gun or a sword?

...I can't say I have.

See? You're in no place to talk.

So you're telling me, you've used a sword.

Yeah.

Instead of a gun, when a gun was an option.

Yeah. I don't know what part of this you're not getting. Maybe this is why someone got you gross champagne for your birthday instead of a real present.

It was expensive gross champagne, thanks. It's a huge honour to get gross champagne from your boss.

Are you sure it was even gross? Maybe you just don't like dry stuff. There's no shame in that. I get a lot of customers like that. Some people just can't handle it.

You work in a bar, that's cheating. Piss off.

And then he'd laughed. Or, something like it. A strange little burst of amusement that had her own mouth curling into a smile involuntarily.

Didn't think you had it in you, "ma'am". I bet it wasn't even bad. I bet it was really subtle and complex and you're a big baby that can't handle anything that isn't ginger ale.

Well, maybe I am. And maybe ginger ale is just good.

I never said it wasn't.

She'd begun editing what went into the transcript at this point. She was supposed to be learning about another culture and forging a path ahead for humanity, not debating with someone about swords and guns and birthday presents. Not to mention, with sections like the above, she'd been a bit too distracted to take note properly and had to hastily fabricate a couple generic lines on the spot so Lazard wouldn't think something had gone wrong because she had stopped "writing". She'd been getting more and more spotty lately. Hopefully no one had thought much of it.

She didn't know why she disliked the project so much now. This should have been a big turning point.

She awoke to someone shaking her and found Zack and Cissnei leaning over her bed.

"Don't do that," she reprimanded. "It's creepy."

"Sorry," shrugged Zack. "We were thinking -- do you wanna hit up a bar or something? To celebrate."

"This might be the last time we will get to work with each other for a while, depending on how things go," said Cissnei. "We should make the most of it. Grab something to eat."

Aeris smiled. "I'd like that. Maybe I can try out the champagne."

Zack blinked. "I... I guess you could, yeah."

Going back out through decon was much faster than coming in -- an hour later they found themselves switching places with the inspection crew, which was already waiting outside for them. They'd have a week to decide what to do from here while the facility was re-cleaned and restocked.

They found a small cafe several hours away, closer to civilisation. Cissnei had to do most of the talking for them, though Aeris insisted on ordering her own drink in broken French. Zack stood there, looking lost.

"The others didn't want to come?" asked Aeris, after she'd received her cocktail. They wound up getting a pizza to split. Zack had gotten a sparkling water, and Cissnei had surprised them both by requesting straight gin.

"Don't know. They left earlier this morning," said Zack. "We got three, right? Good enough. So..." he continued, lowering his voice, "no ovipositors, huh?"

"No," she said flatly.

"How do you know? Did you look?"

Aeris smacked him with her napkin. He shrugged.

"In all seriousness... we aren't gonna get to use any of the pictures. Everyone's gonna think they're fake."

"What's fake about them?" asked Cissnei.

"What do you think? 'We totally found aliens, you guys. They look just like us except they have cat eyes'."

"I mean, maybe it's a statement," said Aeris. "About how humanity thrives, so on and so forth." She paused to take a sip of her drink, then stopped. "Actually, maybe that's something to think about. People are the same all over, aren't they?"

"I guess," said Zack. "I don't know if they'll see it that way... man, we're getting shut down for sure."

Aeris glumly dug an ice cube out of her glass. That would probably be for the best, she knew rationally -- Cloud would probably be glad to never see her again, and no one would have to deal with any ugly politics in the event that two entire worlds' worth of geopolitical conflicts came into contact with one another. She wanted to continue, she knew. She also knew perhaps it was selfish to want it to continue, but she wasn't surprised she felt that way. What did surprise her was why.

The entire point of it had been furthering humanity as a species... well, actually no. No one actually bought into that. The entire point of it had been finishing her parents' work and following in their footsteps and clearing their names by showing her discovery to the world. That was the point, wasn't it?

When she'd been sitting there in that waiting room talking about guns and birthdays, the thought hadn't entered her mind. She found herself wondering if Cloud would want to talk to her again, and if she'd get a chance to pet that not-a-dog, and if Tifa would be willing to talk to her again about something less boring than the atmosphere.

She still wanted to do the project, of course. What did it matter why, as long as it got done? But it still felt like a betrayal of why she started this in the first place. Remaining professional about this wasn't a matter of her pride -- it was a matter of... family tradition? Maybe. It was important, even if she didn't have the right word for it.

"...I mean, because no one will believe what we found," amended Zack, getting the wrong idea from her silence, "not because we're all gonna be jailed for human rights violations."

"Keep your voice down," hissed Cissnei.

"I'm just saying. Maybe they'll be too distracted by the weirder bits to even notice the whole... y'know."

“Why are we still talking about the project?” said Cissnei. “We have been talking about the project for weeks.”

“Not me,” said Zack. “I just got here, remember? In comparison, anyway. If it weren’t for this thing I’d probably have just let them pick me up with the next draft. That stuff pays crazy good as long as you don’t do anything stupid like beat your girlfriend or make your pet dogs snort cocaine.”

“Draft for what?” asked Aeris.

“Basketball, probably. In case you hadn’t guessed,” he said, gesturing vaguely above his head to indicate his height. “I’d have probably gotten some free press just for being the first pro player with multiple doctorates. Get my career started early.”

“That was the deciding factor?” asked Aeris. “Your career?”

“Well, what about you? What did you do before you went and dumped your life into bothering some random asshole from Jiffy Lube?”

“Well… I finished school obviously. Then I went into physics after my parents. They were always talking about how important the project was, and since I had the skills to help --”

“You’re talking about it again,” Zack interrupted. “We need a non-project goal. Hobbies. Something.”

“...I’d always wanted to be a pilot, actually,” said Aeris. “At first it was just space shuttles, but then I got interested in aeroplanes for a while. That was what I was set on for a while, was flying.”

“So, why did that not work out?” asked Cissnei.

Because it was all entirely false and Aeris had never had more of a passing interest in flight before. But that was better than admitting that there hadn’t been a non-project goal; that her entire life had been working towards this moment, and now that it was here, it was…

...Ordinary. She didn’t know how something like that could be ordinary -- she’d met a bunch of aliens that were all sitting on some sort of enormous secret-that-wasn’t-a-secret. She’d made… if, perhaps not a friend, at least an acquaintance. It was all very exciting. But…

She don’t know if she expected some sort of epiphany. She certainly didn’t feel like one was coming on. An entire world had been opened up in front of her, quite literally, and she didn’t really feel like she cared. That didn’t make sense. She obviously did care, she did strongly hope they weren’t shut down after this. None of it made much sense.

Though, now that she was spinning a ten-minute lie about it, the plane thing actually seemed interesting too. She knew more about the subject than she thought. She wondered if Cloud knew how to fix a plane. If they had planes. They probably had planes, right? Reeve mentioned airspace violations, so they definitely had planes that maybe one day she could have a look at.

“I haven’t been on a plane in years,” said Zack. “Not until recently. Suddenly a bunch of ‘interested parties’ are in my face, and I’m being flown around everywhere, and there aren’t enough barf bags in the world.”

“What kind of interested parties?” asked Aeris.

“Same ones that started throwing money at you, I guess,” said Zack. He opened his mouth to continue, then shook his head and took a drink from his soda water.

“I like planes,” said Cissnei, shrugging. She was pushing around the ice cubes in her drink, looking glum.“I think they’re exciting.”

“With the rush to get to the terminal, and a bunch of strangers shoving you around?” said Aeris.

“No. It’s just fun to up and go somewhere else. Even if it’s work, it still feels like a vacation.”

“And how often do you actually get to go to the beach on these vacations?”

“Almost never. It’s usually a conference room full of old angry men.”

“The beach is overrated,” said Zack. “It’s nice, but it’s overrated.”

“You’re just over-beached,” said Aeris. “You’re spoilt on a beach that isn’t piss-cold all year.”

“It does too get cold.”

“Ten degrees is not ‘cold’.”

“Well, tell you what -- when all this is over, we’ll wait until the winter and we’ll see for ourselves.”

“How do you know you’d remember to keep in contact that long?”

“How do you know we'll even be in contact that long?" he retorted. Something must have shown on her face in response to that, because he suddenly looked uncomfortable and went back to eating.

“I’ll cover it,” said Cissnei as they got up to leave. “First useful thing I have done in weeks, no?”

“Come on,” Aeris huffed. “You’ve --”

“No, you come on!” snapped Cissnei, angrily throwing her money down on the counter. “I was only there that long because I wasn’t allowed to leave. Chances are I will not be reapproved for the second part of this, if there is one. It is the least I can do.”

Aeris exchanged an uncomfortable look with Zack, who was already on his way out the door. She left after him. “Look…”

“Tell me one useful thing I have done for the project,” she said, shoving the door out of her way.

“...You dumped what we had of the transcript the other day,” suggested Zack. Cissnei rolled her eyes. “Alright, whatever. You were useless. You happy?”

Aeris glowered at Zack. “Oh, come off it --”

“She was! I’m not saying anything everyone wasn’t thinking already,” he protested, as Cissnei sat there and glowered at him.

“...Alright, fine. Why’s she need a use? Maybe it was nice having her around,” Aeris fired back, standing on her toes to try and get her point across. God, he was tall.

“I’m right here!”

“Well then fine!” shouted Aeris crossly, rounding on her. “It was nice having you around!”

“Then thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

Zack was staring at them both, looking rather bewildered. “Is… this a European thing, or…?”

“Shove it, Fair,” said Aeris. Zack raised his hands in defense and turned away, still looking nonplussed.

“...I mean, I thought this was going pretty well,” he said after a few moments as they drove back to the airport. “Good talk.”

Aeris and Cissnei both made a general noise of assent.

“So… now we wait?” asked Aeris.

Zack nodded. “Seems so. Best case scenario, we’re all back in a week.”

Aeris didn’t ask for the worst case scenario. In truth, she wasn’t sure what it would be. The project continued, but they’d have to double down on the work? Or perhaps she’d be removed from the staff for mishandling the whole thing? Or maybe she’d be invited back, but everyone else would be gone. It wouldn’t really feel the same. Or perhaps they’d all be jailed, that wasn’t out of the question either. Or maybe the project would continue, but her backers would pull out and no one would believe the research. Or maybe CERN themselves would just shut the whole thing down. Or perhaps…

There really wasn’t anything to be done about the whole mess. She’d just have to hope for the best. At least Cloud would have a week to recuperate -- she got the sense he seemed high strung in general.

So, a week to mull things over. Just her and Shithead, and her work. For the project.

Zack tapped her on the shoulder, and she started slightly. "Thought I said not to do that."

"I tapped you. Doesn't count. Anyway..." he shrugged. "You and Cissnei already live here, and I don't really feel like getting on another twenty hour flight back to Hawaii just for a week. Would you care if I hung out at your place? Just for the week."

It was the kind of question he'd almost certainly asked on purpose. Had she really looked that disappointed?

"I know it's kind of out of the blue," continued Zack, as though he wasn't obviously asking for her benefit, "and I don't even know if you have a spare room, and I totally get it if you want your space, but..."

She really shouldn't, she knew. It was vastly inappropriate. But then, she'd also been living with these people for days on end anyway. And Zack seemed decent. And all professionalism had gone out the window the minute the medically advanced civilisation they'd made first contact with had been revealed to know the phrase "fuck you".

"Yeah, alright," said Aeris. "But I hope you're not allergic to cats."

They'd parted ways with Cissnei shortly after the plane ride, when she'd been nice enough to drop them off at the kennel first to pick up Cassiopeia, who yowled angrily the entire bus ride home.

"Is she usually this grouchy?" said Zack, as he swiftly withdrew his finger from the carrier as a set of claws swiped at it a moment later.

"No. She's an attention whore, and she's mad I didn't dote on her for ages," said Aeris. The bus rolled to a stop a few moments later.

"I got it," said Zack, and before she could say anything else he'd hefted their combined luggage in one hand and the carrier in another, its contents still hissing and spitting at everything she could see through the door.

She remembered, all too late, that the pan she'd cooked her eggs in was still in the sink. The house probably reeked -- yes, there was definitely a smell, she quickly realised as she stepped inside. At least she'd remembered to empty the litterbox.

Zack set down the carrier once they were inside and knelt by it. "Can I let her out?"

"Yes. Just keep her away from the patio. She likes to eat the plants."

She saw Zack carefully unlatch the door to the carrier, and watched as a very grouchy tortoiseshell streaked past him a moment later.

"She'll say hi later," said Aeris in response to Zack's somewhat offended look. "She's gonna have a good sulk first."

"So, am I staying on the couch, or...?" questioned Zack. If he noticed the smell, he wasn't acting like it.

"I've a spare room you can use," said Aeris. "I'll get something for us to eat later. Snacks are in the kitchen."

"It's just you here?" he asked.

"Well, me and Shithead," she said, gesturing towards the direction Cassiopeia had sprinted off in. "It's not all bad, really. I've got my work..."

Her work. Her parents' work, at least. Hers now. Her very very important work. Humanity. Something or other.

"Something wrong?" asked Zack. Aeris realised something must have been showing on her face and quickly flashed him a small smile.

"No. Just thinking about what to do in the meantime. We could try and organise our findings into something we could publish, but the whole thing might be pointless in a week, depending on how things go."

"Well... why don't we check the news? See if we're famous yet."

Aeris fetched her laptop from her room. She could have used the desktop computer, but she wanted to sit on a couch. She'd missed couches.

There wasn't much on the news about it that wasn't already common knowledge -- obviously they'd be debating about whether or not to publicly release the information.

Unsurprisingly, there was a lot of focus put on their age. A quick self-google had revealed Zack already had a small following of people interested in more mundane aspects of him than his scientific achievements. Aeris, too, had something of a following, though her name also turned up a number of conspiracy theories surrounding the failed bridging experiment, and how her parents had been taken in by the aliens on the other side and ascended to a higher plane of existence.

Aeris would have liked to believe that. She'd never been brave enough to look at the photos herself, but apparently there was a great deal of viscera everywhere that had clued authorities into the fact that, perhaps, there might not have been any survivors.

The computer was right there, though. Perhaps she should look. For closure. If there was ever a time for it, it was now, before everything they'd worked for came crashing down under its own weight.

She sighed and searched "gainsborough gast explosion remains". Zack, who was still sitting next to her, gave her an alarmed look.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly, clearly convinced she wasn't.

"Yeah. Just... I wanna look," she said as nonchalantly as she could. She only succeeded in alarming him further. Too late now -- the picture had already loaded.

It wasn't actually as bad as she'd thought. But it was about what you'd expect from someone standing next to a very small hydrogen bomb. There wasn't as much... paste, there was no other way to describe it, as she thought there would be. Still a lot, though.

There. She'd looked. She closed the tab and went back to self-googling, then closed that tab when she inevitably found her head badly photoshopped onto a porn star's body.

"You're not worried, are you?" asked Zack. "It's totally safe, I promise. And we'll send rats through first, obviously..." He rubbed his neck nervously. "God, I shouldn't have been petting them. If any of them survive, at least one is getting dissected."

"I'm not worried," said Aeris distractedly. They wouldn't need to dissect all of them, surely. They'd need some alive to observe over the next few days anyway. And maybe if Cloud wound up dying from anything that developed from doing this, they'd find some other waypoint and whatever was left of his corpse would be used for educational purposes. And there would be others, probably, because there would be more visits now that there was an entire world to develop relations between, and it was her project after all, hers, she'd made such a fuss about that, her project, not her parents', she was doing this for her --

In that minute, she saw the whole of her life stretching out in front of her in two long, narrow paths -- one of more projects, and more terrified mechanics she'd have to possess. More guilt. More objective being put in front of her to complete, walling it in, stretching it further. More refining this project that had sucked everything she knew into it.

The other path was empty.

Aeris curled up further into the couch and turned the volume up on the television. Zack looked at her concernedly, but said nothing for a long while.

Cassiopeia had finally warmed up to her again by the time she went to bed -- perhaps the fact that she'd been living in a clean room for several days had removed her scent? Or perhaps she was getting used to smelling her again after it had faded from the house. That wasn't likely, though. The scent of humans tended to permeate whatever they were around. One only really noticed it was there when one stopped smelling it for a while.

God, it was so bizarre that she knew that now. So far, the smell thing definitely had to be the strangest part of that world, bar none.

Aeris had another strange dream that night -- one she'd had several times before she was eight years old at the zoo with her parents in front of her favourite exhibit, the ostriches. She'd always wanted a pet ostrich in those days. In the dream, they always came up to the fence and permitted them to dig her grubby, cotton candy-encrusted fingers into their feathers. A voice from behind caught her attention.

"Aren't you Dr. Gainsborough?"

Aeris turned around, but of course they weren't talking to her. Her parents had been approached by another pair of visitors. Her mother nodded graciously.

"You were in the news recently -- about the parallel universe thing, yes?" said one of them. "Amazing stuff, never thought I'd see something like that in my lifetime." He leaned in closer, looking at Aeris. "Is that your daughter?"

Her father nodded proudly. "Aeris. She's eight years old, and already in her ninth year."

The man laughed. "Well, now! The apple certainly doesn't fall far, does it? I expect she'll have quite a bit to contribute to the field when she gets older." The man crouched to address her directly. "Do you like physics, Aeris?"

"I like ostriches!" she had said proudly. That earned another laugh out of everyone present.

"With that kind of enthusiasm, she'll make a great scientist," said the man. Her parents leaned over her pen in the zoo with great interest.

"She's too small right now," said her father. "She can't help us yet. She'll have to get bigger first."

They had all hunkered down to watch her. She was exposed in the pen. She wanted to hide behind something, but there wasn't anywhere to hide in the fifth ring. There were thousands of people watching from the rails now, and her parents were lost in the crowd. Their faces blurred together into a leering, flesh coloured mass. They all had cameras, wanting to take a picture of the alien she had discovered, and she and Cloud were exposed for the world to see, the scientist and the project bound together in a single exhibit. She was trapped in skin that wasn't hers, and Cloud was desperately screaming in her ears to be let out. They were twisted together too deep, and when Tseng pulled her, she woke up inside the tank in Cloud's body again, and was moved back into the exhibit. She woke up again, in her bed, and she was still Cloud, and he was still pleading to be let out, and she woke up again, and was still Cloud. She was here, in this body, in this exhibit, forever.

She woke up a fourth time and immediately grabbed a mirror. Just her own sweat-slicked face staring back at her this time. Her own hands, not pockmarked by battle scars, but not familiar either -- no dirt under the nails from her garden, due to the thorough decontamination weeks ago.

She got up right then and there and went downstairs to the patio. She'd never gardened in the middle of the night before. First time for everything, she supposed. She needed the dirt back right now.

She was woken up by Zack, who looked rather alarmed at this point. He tossed her a blanket.

"Jesus Christ, do you always sleep outside in the dirt?"

"No. Just... wanted to check on the plants. It's been a while, you know?"

"Whatever, lady. Aren't you cold?"

"No," she said as she began to shiver. Good thing it had been late summer.

"...Alright. Well, if I've got permission to go through your kitchen, I wanna make breakfast. If there's anything I missed, it's cooking."

“You cook?” asked Aeris, following him inside. Everything was sore. This was a mistake. She was never sleeping outside again, ever.

“I mean, as a hobby, yeah.” He began going through her cupboards. “Do you cook much?”

Aeris shook her head. “I was never much good at it. Never learned before, and haven’t really bothered to.”

“Well, you’re missing out,” said Zack, as he began chopping up some of the vegetables he had insisted she buy, even though she really didn’t bother with cooking from scratch, with a couple exceptions. It was a lot easier to just buy something canned, season it, and get back to work. “It’s really just chemistry, you know -- monosaccharides will brown if you heat them at this temperature, but introducing lipids will slow that reaction by this percentage -- and then you get to try and figure out how exactly long in your head.”

“And that’s fun for you?”

“What is? Cooking? Yeah, obviously.”

“I meant, guessing at things, for its own sake.” Aeris began to feel a bit useless, and decided she might as well make tea with what little space the stovetop offered.

“Oh, that too. Part of why I got into basketball, you know. If you know where the ball is gonna be before anyone else, it makes the game a lot more interesting.”

“So, why didn’t you just go into basketball?” asked Aeris. Whatever Zack was doing with those vegetables, it smelled amazing. “Seems like you’d enjoy it a lot more.”

“I don’t,” he said shortly, as that odd look passed across his face for another moment. “...I mean, not as much as theoretical astrophysics,” he said, flashing her another obnoxious movie star grin. She rolled her eyes. “Although I guess at this point it’s not really theoretical anymore…”

“Now, cooking,” he added, as he switched the stove off and dumped the contents of two different pans into bowls and fetched them a couple plates, “cooking I could get into. Who knows, maybe once we’re all fired I’ll go on Chopped or something.”

Aeris helped herself to a few generous spoonfuls of everything and took an experimental bite. Her eyes watered.

“Oh, wow,” she said.

Zack raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”

“No, it’s fantastic -- what is this?”

“Not anything fancy or anything -- sauteed some mushrooms and onions in butter, and, uh… we didn’t have sausage or anything, so I improvised,” he said, gesturing to an empty tin of corned beef hash. “Mixed the eggs and rice in with it, threw in some red pepper and a little cheese. Shit, we shoulda got some fruit too...”

“I have fruit,” said Aeris, and quickly got up and left the table for the patio again with an empty bowl. She came back with it filled with strawberries.

“Grew them myself,” she said, as she began rinsing them off in the sink. "I've got edible herbs out there as well."

"Wish I'd known that earlier. Remind me about that later."

"Remind yourself," said Aeris, taking her plate and the bowl of strawberries and sitting on her couch next to Shithead. Zack uncertainly followed her. She dug the remote out from under the blanket she'd left it buried in a lifetime ago and switched on the television.

The news was on. Some important-looking doctor was discussing Tseng's presence on the project and his credentials, and what a huge deal it was that he was involved in this monumental endeavour.

"I think we should change the channel," said Zack quietly. Aeris nodded and flipped to a competitive baking show as Shithead marched her way across her lap to demand attention from Zack.

They spent the week stubbornly ignoring the outside world. Aeris went back to fending the cat off from her herbs. Zack didn't even bother changing out of his pyjamas for most of it, except to make another grocery run. He seemed to have taken her comment about his cooking skills as a personal challenge, and it had become clear early on that he was showing off, although Aeris had no trouble admitting she was actually impressed, even if it did make him insufferably smug. She preferred smug to the grinning mascot she'd encountered in the facility, though. He seemed less on-edge here. And perhaps it was just his face, but he seemed to look happier when he wasn't actually smiling.

She'd miss him when he left.

#the number i #spitegarbage #a much-needed interlude i think

5 notes · View notes

evilback-wards · 7 years ago

Text

Day 1( don't. Read it's crap)

Heart Shaped Box prompt for Chemical Warfare Babies

… . .

…

Bing.

Surrounding Colline were suits. Large suits that had their cuffs tucked in. And the suits and Colline were in a carbon copy of the Oval Office: the assumed pinnacle of governmental grout. Whispers were beginning to become full on conversations, mixing joy and hatred to copulate bureaucracy. The room was made with the construction of the original Oval Office in mind: wooden furnishings with uncomfortable couches, yellow curtains, flags from the galaxys’ visiting for todays discussion, old paintings from Earth, and, per the tradition of the planet, vibrate velvet blue fur to keep temperatures warm.

“You know, these humans didn’t know shit. They just existed. It’s kind of adorable,” says a suit, blue one—cuffs hidden by the darkness naturally exuded by their species. Blue dark suit darkness speaks to flapper imitator. The flapper imitator has the roaring 20’s down to the overabundance of happiness before a terrible downfall.

“So much can be learned from them! I’m excited for the fanfare that’s promised for today. Planet 00242192 always has the best shows,” flapper imitator said, fanning itself with some nearby wind. Ah—Colline was just about done dolling herself up for the show. Colline was a suit but also rare personnel that practiced the Earth culture seriously.

There was no light speed fast enough, quick enough, hurried enough to get the Earth stockholders into a room quicker than today. There was an e-mail that was pushed out that stressed the importance of everyone answering her communication. And the stockholders knew not to fudge their chance to speak to their cash cow—and came dressed for the occasion.

Besides flapper imitator, darkness creator, logic deeper, power steeper, gravel keeper, and naval peeker went more for tropes for their manifestations. Ones physical manifestations can leave a lot to be desired if chosen incorrectly on a planet. Colline was a tough customer—judging critically based on ones physical manifestations. It could be assumed that Colline would buy your stock just for matching the wrong century of sock with hair piece.

There was a long allotment for sound in English chatter, allowing the awkward language to leave from whatever orifice the creature utilized for speaking. Colline stayed silent. Colline was listening for the truth, whatever that may be.

But, once Colline started tapping on the large light box, which triggered the lighting in the room to be lowered completely, people hushed themselves. It was now time for the show.

Dear Diary:

I had sex with a lot of people today. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. But people forgive pretty easily, right? People will pass you on the street and forgive you for uglying the landscape? People will nod to you even when they are disgusting by the stench of your existence? Remember, if someone holds their nose against their clothing, you’re repulsive. You need to leave them right away. Humans have a tendency of keeping things too nice. Don’t be that way. If you hate someone let them know right away. So the proper fighting can happen. I’ve been dragged along the concrete too long with so many of my clients. They claim I’m ‘love at first sight’ when it’s really ‘cum at first sight’.

Not to knock my knack of doing things to sexually stimulate the creatures, but it gets tiring. Suck Suck. Fuck Fuck. It becomes natural. I am natural. So, I guess I talked myself out of feeling guilty for being an escort—yay! Now I can move on to write more interesting things.

My latest conquest is of someone at my same level. His name is CJ(god knows what that stands for) Byrant. He enjoys escorts as much as anyone. He runs through about fifty every seven days(a week!) and pays each of them handsomely to keep their mouths shut. I heard the last escort that tried to make a scandal happened became the next murder mystery scandal. Ah—I love me a good scandal! That person is dead because they spoke improperly. This person is tortured for being too honest. I love scandals! They are the hole to human virtue.

This is getting rambly, but since it’s MY DIARY, I can be rambly. Hm. New conquest: CJ Byrant likes his escorts like he likes his government: easy to leave in the late afternoon and hard to come in during the mornings. Get it? Yeah—a gay joke I think that was. But that’s just not any type of gay joke—it’s a funny one! I hope. Is my existence making you want to kill yourself yet? If so, I apologize, if not, what is wrong with you? I am extremely cringy and filled with too much hope. The best I have to aspire for is waking up with fresh egg whites on my tits. Maybe there’s a druggie cig hanging from my lower lip that CJ takes drags out of sometimes. I hope I’m good enough to be a night escort. Those are the best—the people make you breakfast usually and ask if that’s how humans would do it. The best thing about humans is that you just don’t know what they would do—they’re born with their own will and predetermined set of ignorance. It’s so cute!

Anyway, I am struggling right now. CJ Byrant is a tough cookie. I’ve been making sure my ass is in the perfect view of his eyesight. But he just clears his throat or insists that “he’ll get that”. What type of government official does he think he is? That’s really silly, you know, to have this façade of being such a respectful man only to turn out to be the kind of guy that needs to cum twice in your eyes and scrub your face into the concrete and call you his long lost rapist. Whoops. Secrets are being let out tonight. I apologize.

CJ Byrant thinks me being an Earth-informed person makes it okay. It makes him okay to treat me like a human male but—hold it—he doesn’t reap the benefits of having such an Earth-human-whore to push around. I could be his little blow doll. My mouth is already open way too often. That’s why I pay men to close it with their intimates. Or sometimes with an object or five if they’re feeling excitable that day.

I love being this whore life has made me to be. It’s easy, easy money, easy way of living. I just can’t think too hard or I’ll burst into tears. Ahh!—Thinking should hurt me! I wish each time I had a critical thought someone hit me upside the head with a brick. I shouldn’t be allowed to think—no, never—thinking is bad. These guys, when they look for escorts, look for the dumbest and best manifested. I need to retain my own view of my life as much as possible. I can’t let CJ treat me like the garden tool I am. Now I’m making puns—I must be reaching critical mass of funnies.

Ahh, it’s been nice writing this, but around now, I need to make a bad decision. Just like the cycle of abuse, a clock, a never-ending cycle of wander and blunders, I must do something completely terrible. Because that’s how Earth-human-whores act. And I love being an Earth-human-whore.

The lights come back. The suits are struggling to retain a boisterous laughter. The suits flicker into manifestations of humans, a nice spread between the centuries. Colline smiles as she raises her digital grey camera.

“God, that was hoot! The girl is so brain-dead she can’t even keep secrets out of her diary! It’s like her vagina wrote the entire thing,” Flapper imitator says, with her lips out. Smoke drags itself past her lips and into the Oval Offices’ space. Other creatures struggle to retain their laughter and comments. Colline remains silent, snapping pictures of everyone at their moments of happiness, dressed down in their humanoid dresses. Their barcodes showing—oh sweet barcodes! These are important. I’ll explain why they’re important.

Barcodes are assigned to every creature created on the planet known as 00242192. The English pronunciation of the numerical expression is often shortened as Capital Pra. Pra is a weird name, isn’t it, for this shit to be occurring on? With blue velvet carpet to be in a Oval Office to keep up temperature—because—humans are too stupid to find out how to work machines to heat them better.

Barcodes, okay, back to the point. Barcodes are assigned to anyone born on this planet as a discreet and personal number. Buuuut. Because anything created is sentient and has their own free will, and to keep privacy up, the placements of the barcode is random. Sometimes you’re lucky and its on your left ass check if you ever manifest an ass cheek. Issue one: Sometimes you’ll manifest and manifest and you can’t find the barcode of yours for the life of you. Issue two: If you don’t know what the fuck your barcode is, well, you’re screwed. Your mark as a Triple O’ 9 and told to fuck off into the darkness. You’re labeled as uncooperative in this nook of the galaxy or universe or whatever you wanna see this place as.

Barcodes are an arrangements of lines from 5 cm to 5 inches that can be as short as 2 and as long as fifty on ones body. What—why are people born with these—the best answer I can give you is that that’s just how the machine works. And no one knows why. Maybe no one wants to know why. But anyway.

Barcodes are used to keep track of the population and employment of people born on Pra. And, to be more culturally sensitive, what percentage of people follow what culture. As a new born jelly mass, you don’t know anything. You don’t even know that your jelly form is offensive as you’re basically just a naked new born baby without culture! SO, let’s review:

1.Born as a jelly with a barcode

2. Get culture

3. ???

4. You live until you die under your cultures conditions

Sounds simple, but people like to make it complicated as shit. Like, who the hell even wants to stick to one culture? Who would want to? Even subcultures of your culture get boring. So many people just up and switch cultures when it gets close to their time. Some beings born with 3 barcodes still exist because they’re “lifers” for culture.

#nanowrimo #day 1 #its shit i know #but made word count

3 notes · View notes

robgrayofficial · 7 years ago

Link

HAPPY SATURDAY CENTIPEDES 🐛💖🐛💖🐛💖🐛I hope everyone is enjoying this beautiful afternoon! It's your girl /u/Ivaginaryfriend back at it again with another DANK Presidential recap!So sit back, relax, and let us BASK IN THE GLORY OF THIS TRANSPARENT ADMINISTRATION TOGETHER!!!As always, if you happened to miss any past recaps you can catch those at this link here!Sunday, April 29th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Donald J. Trump Proclaims April 29 through May 5, 2018, as Small Business Week🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Join me LIVE in Washington, Michigan at 7:00pmE on @FoxNews! #MAGAGreat evening last night in Washington, Michigan. The enthusiasm, knowledge and love in that room was unreal. To the many thousands of people who couldn’t get in, I cherish you....and will be back!While Washington, Michigan, was a big success, Washington, D.C., just didn’t work. Everyone is talking about the fact that the White House Correspondents Dinner was a very big, boring bust...the so-called comedian really “bombed.” @greggutfeld should host next year! @PeteHegsethJust got recent Poll - much higher than President O at same time....Well, much more has been accomplished!“Trump’s Triumphs are driving his critics Crazy!” Thank you Steve Hilton @NextRevFNC, just want to do what is right for our wonderful U.S.A.The White House Correspondents’ Dinner was a failure last year, but this year was an embarrassment to everyone associated with it. The filthy “comedian” totally bombed (couldn’t even deliver her lines-much like the Seth Meyers weak performance). Put Dinner to rest, or start over!Headline: “Kim Prepared to Cede Nuclear Weapons if U.S. Pledges Not to Invade” - from the Failing New York Times. Also, will shut down Nuclear Test Site in May.SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Trump Brings Up North Korea — The Audience Erupts In Chants Of ‘Nobel! Nobel!’Kanye West Hanging Out With Candace Owens Today!Watch "ILLEGALS CLIMB THE FENCE ON BORDER TAUNT US OFFICIALS"THIS IS CNN: Hiring of Suspected Leaker Clapper Raises Ethical Questions | Do paid analysts Brennan and Clapper still have access to top intelligence?🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Presented without commentWe know she lingers amongst us. Let’s show the face of the Trump Train some well deserved appreciation. Thank You SHB for representing us with poise and dignity in the midst of rats and weasels!“Mediocre white boy”Monday, April 30th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Trump Meets with President Buhari of the Federal Republic of NigeriaPresident Trump Hosts a Joint Press Conference with President BuhariPresident Trump Welcomes Chancellor Merkel of Germany to the White HouseBring Your Kids to Work Day 2018Bring Your Kids to Work Day Press Briefing 2018President Donald J. Trump Proclaims May 2018 as Jewish American Heritage MonthPresident Donald J. Trump Proclaims May 1, 2018, as Law Day, U.S.A.Presidential Memorandum for the Secretary of State and the Secretary of Energy🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:The White House Correspondents’ Dinner is DEAD as we know it. This was a total disaster and an embarrassment to our great Country and all that it stands for. FAKE NEWS is alive and well and beautifully represented on Saturday night!Numerous countries are being considered for the MEETING, but would Peace House/Freedom House, on the Border of North & South Korea, be a more Representative, Important and Lasting site than a third party country? Just asking!I recently had a terrific meeting with a bipartisan group of freshman lawmakers who feel very strongly in favor of Congressional term limits. I gave them my full support and endorsement for their efforts. #DrainTheSwampThe migrant ‘caravan’ that is openly defying our border shows how weak & ineffective U.S. immigration laws are. Yet Democrats like Jon Tester continue to support the open borders agenda – Tester even voted to protect Sanctuary Cities. We need lawmakers who will put America First.During Small Business Week, we celebrate the great, hard-working entrepreneurs across our country who have started and operate a small business!The Fake News is going crazy making up false stories and using only unnamed sources (who don’t exist). They are totally unhinged, and the great success of this Administration is making them do and say things that even they can’t believe they are saying. Truly bad people!The White House is running very smoothly despite phony Witch Hunts etc. There is great Energy and unending Stamina, both necessary to get things done. We are accomplishing the unthinkable and setting positive records while doing so! Fake News is going “bonkers!”SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Moon calls for trump to win Nobel PrizeRob Schneider on SNL: "Much late night comedy is less about being funny and more about Indoctrination by comedic imposition. People aren't really laughing at it as much as cheering on the rhetoric. It no longer resembles a comedy show, it's more like some kind of liberal Klan meeting"Boom: Netanyahu reveals verifiable proof Iran has lied and continued to build Nuclear program despite 2015 deal.🤣 🤣That's Right, Bitches!!! DOJ files charges against 11 'caravan' members for illegal border crossing🤣🤣IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME! John McCain: I’m retiring — so now I can speak my mindDems losing support from Millennials, Poll shows🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Kanye still red pilling. Tweets: "republicans were the ones helping black people. Democrats protected the rights of the slave owners"This week, our President made major progress towards wiping a fanatic, tyrannical regime supported by lies and propaganda off the face of the Earth. If he does nothing else, he has advanced humanity just by this one act.Was looking at pics of the invading caravan when I noticed.... Can someone explain to me why we need to grant asylum and inevitable lifetime financial support to a “refugee” with a newer model iPhone than me?Tuesday, May 1st:TODAY'S ACTION:President Donald J. Trump Welcomes the President of NigeriaPresident Trump Presents the Commander in Chief Trophy to the U.S. Military Academy Football TeamPresident Trump Presents the Commander in Chief Trophy to the U.S. Military Academy Football TeamPresident Trump Welcomes the Crew and Passengers of Southwest Airlines Flight 1380🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:So disgraceful that the questions concerning the Russian Witch Hunt were “leaked” to the media. No questions on Collusion. Oh, I see...you have a made up, phony crime, Collusion, that never existed, and an investigation begun with illegally leaked classified information. Nice!Delegation heading to China to begin talks on the Massive Trade Deficit that has been created with our Country. Very much like North Korea, this should have been fixed years ago, not now. Same with other countries and NAFTA...but it will all get done. Great Potential for USA!It would seem very hard to obstruct justice for a crime that never happened! Witch Hunt!Yesterday, it was my great honor to welcome President @MBuhari of the Federal Republic of Nigeria to the @WhiteHouse!🇺🇸🇳🇬Today I had the great honor of awarding the Commander-in-Chief’s Trophy, for the first time in 21 years, to the @ArmyWP_Football Black Knights at the @WhiteHouse. Congratulations!Congratulations @ArmyWP_Football!Today, it was my great honor to thank and welcome heroic crew members and passengers of Southwest Airlines Flight 1380 at the @WhiteHouse!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Mystery donors ponied up $50M to keep phony dossier team at work well beyond electionThe DNC Wants A Refund From Hillary Clinton. Keeping the DNC in debt says a lot about the Clinton organization.Kanye West: More Outrage over Me Wearing a Trump Hat than Black-on-Black CrimeICE chief: Illegal Alien caravan stealing spots from deserving refugeesPRESS BRIEFINGS, INTERVIEWS, RALLIES:Press Beating🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:If you don't fight tooth and nail for what you have, you will be like Britain.The Left is losing their minds over Trump bringing peace to KoreaTruth to cultural powerRoseanne asking a good questionWednesday, May 2nd:TODAY'S ACTION:President Trump Participates in the Swearing-In Ceremony of the Secretary of StatePresident Trump Delivers Remarks at the Swearing-In Ceremony of the Secretary of StateSwearing-In Ceremony for the U.S. Permanent Representative to the Organization of American StatesPresident Trump Delivers Remarks at the National Teacher of the Year Reception🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:There was no Collusion (it is a Hoax) and there is no Obstruction of Justice (that is a setup & trap). What there is is Negotiations going on with North Korea over Nuclear War, Negotiations going on with China over Trade Deficits, Negotiations on NAFTA, and much more. Witch Hunt!“The questions are an intrusion into the President’s Article 2 powers under the Constitution to fire any Executive Branch Employee...what the President was thinking is an outrageous.....as to the President’s unfettered power to fire anyone...” Joe Digenova, former US AttorneyNEW BOOK - A MUST READ! “The Russia Hoax - The Illicit Scheme to Clear Hillary Clinton and Frame Donald Trump” by the brilliant Fox News Legal Analyst Gregg Jarrett. A sad chapter for law enforcement. A rigged system!A Rigged System - They don’t want to turn over Documents to Congress. What are they afraid of? Why so much redacting? Why such unequal “justice?” At some point I will have no choice but to use the powers granted to the Presidency and get involved!Congratulations @SecPompeo!I have been briefed on the U.S. C-130 “Hercules” cargo plane from the Puerto Rico National Guard that crashed near Savannah Hilton Head International Airport. Please join me in thoughts and prayers for the victims, their families and the great men and women of the National Guard.“This isn’t some game. You are screwing with the work of the president of the United States.” John Dowd, March 2018. With North Korea, China, the Middle East and so much more, there is not much time to be thinking about this, especially since there was no Russian “Collusion.”As everybody is aware, the past Administration has long been asking for three hostages to be released from a North Korean Labor camp, but to no avail. Stay tuned!Ainsley Earnhardt, a truly great person, just wrote a wonderful book, “The Light Within Me,” which is doing really well. She is very special and so is her new book...bring it to number one!Our great financial team is in China trying to negotiate a level playing field on trade! I look forward to being with President Xi in the not too distant future. We will always have a good (great) relationship!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:North Korea releases U.S. detainees, bows to another Trump demand"18 House Republicans nominate Trump for Nobel Peace Prize"Paris Burns as May Day Protests Turn to Riots'Stand for the Second': Students across USA plan 16-minute walkout to back Second AmendmentNorth Korea starts pulling cables from tunnels at nuclear test siteBREAKING: NJ Teachers Union President Will “Bend the Truth,” Cover Up Child Abuse in Schools, Protects Drug-Using, Shoplifting Teachers🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Before and after joining the Democratic PartyDress Code or Being LazyNobody wants to hear about Australia again for the millionth timeGuys... it actually happened.Thursday, May 3rd:TODAY'S ACTION:President Trump Attends the National Day of PrayerNational Day of Prayer 2018Vice President Pence Participates in the Swearing-in Ceremony of the U.S. Ambassador to Germany🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Mr. Cohen, an attorney, received a monthly retainer, not from the campaign and having nothing to do with the campaign, from which he entered into, through reimbursement, a private contract between two parties, known as a non-disclosure agreement, or NDA. These agreements are ... very common among celebrities and people of wealth. In this case it is in full force and effect and will be used in Arbitration for damages against Ms. Clifford (Daniels). The agreement was used to stop the false and extortionist accusations made by her about an affair, ... despite already having signed a detailed letter admitting that there was no affair. Prior to its violation by Ms. Clifford and her attorney, this was a private agreement. Money from the campaign, or campaign contributions, played no roll in this transaction.Today, it was my great honor to celebrate the #NationalDayOfPrayer at the @WhiteHouse, in the Rose Garden! Proclamation: http://bit.ly/2KDL7A7 spring marks 4yrs since the Phoenix VA crisis. We won't forget what happened to our GREAT VETS. Choice is vital, but the program needs work & is running out of $. Congress must fix Choice Program by Memorial Day so VETS can get the care they deserve. I will sign immediately!#NationalDayOfPrayerSIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:11-Year-Old has the audacity to support his PresidentFOX Moves to Revive Tim Allen Comedy Series 'Last Man Standing' PEDES PLEASE SHOW SUPPORT: Tim Allen: "They heard all your voices people!! LMS just might be a reality. Keep it up."BREAKING: Feds tapped Trump lawyer Michael Cohen's phones... SHUT IT DOWNAdidas CEO Dismisses Calls to Drop Kanye WestPRESS BRIEFINGS, INTERVIEWS, RALLIES:Press Beating🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:[OC] LIBERALS IN A NUTSHELL4D CHESS: Kanye says "Don't tell me how to think becuase my skin is a certain color" then white liberals, tell him how to think because of his skin color. Black community see this obvious racism and liberal anger backfires.“But muhh feelings!”"You have no idea how many african americans and minorities really support Donald J. Trump."Friday, May 4th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Trump Delivers Remarks Upon DeparturePresident Trump Makes a Statement Prior to Boarding AirForce OneVice President Pence Delivers Remarks at the National Riffle Association Leadership ForumPresident Trump Gives Remarks at the National Riffle Association Leadership Forum🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Our Southern Border is under siege. Congress must act now to change our weak and ineffective immigration laws. Must build a Wall. Mexico, which has a massive crime problem, is doing little to help!Because Jobs in the U.S. are doing so well, Americans receiving unemployment aid is the lowest since 1973. Great!Andy McCarthy will be on @LouDobbs tonight. 7:00 P.M. , @FoxBusiness.NBC NEWS is wrong again! They cite “sources” which are constantly wrong. Problem is, like so many others, the sources probably don’t exist, they are fabricated, fiction! NBC, my former home with the Apprentice, is now as bad as Fake News CNN. Sad!Going to Dallas (the GREAT State of Texas) today. Leaving soon!JUST OUT: 3.9% Unemployment. 4% is Broken! In the meantime, WITCH HUNT!All of us here today are united by the same timeless values. We believe that our liberty is a gift from our creator, and that no Government can ever take it away. We believe in the rule of law - and we support the men and women of law enforcement. We have pride in our history...Democrats and liberals in Congress want to disarm law-abiding Americans at the same time they are releasing dangerous criminal aliens and savage gang members onto our streets. Politicians who put criminal aliens before American Citizens should be voted out of office!We are going to demand Congress secure the border in the upcoming CR. Illegal immigration must end!I want to thank all of our friends and patriots at the @NRA. We will never fail, and we will always protect your Second Amendment! God Bless you, and God Bless America!Great book just out by very successful businessman @AndyPuzder. Always known as somebody who knows how to win, “Capitalist Comeback” will be a big hit!Just returned home to the beautiful White House, from Dallas, where the Arena was packed to the rafters with the great fans and supporters of the @NRA. It was so wonderful to be there!Our high level delegation is on the way back from China where they had long meetings with Chinese leaders and business representatives. We will be meeting tomorrow to determine the results, but it is hard for China in that they have become very spoiled with U.S. trade wins!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Over the last year, CNN’s ratings have dropped 30% while r/The_Donald has grown 50%. WHO’S RUNNING OUT OF STEAM?So much for “Mike Pence hates gay people.”John Kerry violates Logan Act in his effort to negotiate with Iran without authorization. Add another to the list of "Lock them up!"Unemployment Falls to 18 Year LowDonald Trump: Date and Place Set for Summit with Kim Jong-un🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Russia delusionHoly Shit this is spicy (and true)!They shut up quick about the DNC lawsuit, didn't they??Snoop Dogg loved Trump, until his master told him to hate Trump. Snoop Dogg is a weak little bitch. Don't be like Snoop Dogg.Saturday, May 5th:SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:Russia investigation isn’t really about Trump, but giving cover to Obama and HillaryCiti: U.S. To Become World’s Top Oil ExporterWTF we hate employed people! Trump's nonsense is ruining America.U.S. CYBER COMMAND NOW OFFICIAL! “The next 10 years, will look significantly different from the last 10,” he said. “The Department of Defense will ensure our military is ready to fight and win against any adversary across any domain, dominating the cyber domain at the speed of relevance.”🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:President Trump, Donald Trump Jr. and Diamond & Silk...what a FANTASTIC picture !!!Crooked Spotted Celebrating Sinkhole De Mayo!Intelligence foundPresented without comment.I have never seen Bill Clinton this angry.MAGIC WAND CONFIRMED!!!! We just NEVER stop winning!Of course, some tunes to help you go through all this winning!!Afternoon SoulGot The LoveGoldFeelin' FineOdyssey Pt. 1MAGA ON PATRIOTS! #robgray

#robgray

0 notes

thesinglesjukebox · 7 years ago

Video

youtube

MILEY CYRUS - YOUNGER NOW [5.38] We return her enthusiasm.

Alex Clifton: Confession: I've never really cared for Miley Cyrus' music. There's something about her tonal quality that doesn't sit well with me and her music has always been middling at best. She's tried to be cute, edgy, hard, and experimental, and none of those have ever sounded great. Yet there's something to be said for "Younger Now" -- for once in her entire musical career, Cyrus doesn't sound like she's trying. The entire tune's full of weird platitudes regarding change, the lyrics are a bit basic, and I can't say I'd seek this song out, but it finally feels like she's found her niche and enjoys the music she makes. That's all you can ever ask for from an artist, I suppose. I still have mixed feelings about Cyrus in general (appropriation, etc.) but maybe this era will mark a welcome change for her. [5]

Alfred Soto: Miley Cyrus can sing, but those stretched syllables are hell on my concentration. Also, while I sympathize with clinging to the insouciance of youth, Cyrus's public persona suggests she's more interesting as an adult channelling the energy of youth. [6]

Katie Gill: Miley Cyrus is 24. I don't want to be ageist, but "I feel so much younger now"? Really? Speaking as a 25 year old, I'd honestly be surprised if any of us WANT to go back to our younger, high school to undergrad years (fun fact! Legally drinking and not living in a dorm is AWESOME.) There's so much potential here: after all, a younger Cyrus still spent most of her life in the spotlight. How do you reconcile that with feeling younger? Instead, she gives us a song composed of nothing but platitudes and fortune cookie fortunes over a stale instrumentation. [5]

Eleanor Graham: She doesn't actually feel younger now. Age is still measured in linear years and not square inches of skin. VMA-gate Miley was only "mature" in the least literal, most Daily Mail sense of the word; and Miley in a high-cut red leotard performing a terrible cover of "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" is still about as indelibly, nakedly young as pop gets. But this isn't about that. This is about a peaceful transfer of power. A resurrection with director's commentary. "Even though it's not who I am," she explains patiently. "I'm not afraid of who I used to be." As T****r S***t attempts to take a knife to her past incarnations without cutting ties with her original fanbase, to exclude herself from every narrative going while sitting smugly atop the platform those narratives provided, and thus becomes engulfed in an ever more impenetrable web of political and cultural discourse, Cyrus manages a simple and bloodless transition. From Bad Girl to Good, from breasts and gold grills to a white dress laced to the neck, but for the lipgloss one of Sofia Coppola's Civil War schoolgirls. This and the country rock sounds are part of her plan to ensnare Trump supporters and - what? Even if Cyrus were somewhere between Billy Bragg and Bob Dylan, their votes are not up for grabs. Their hearts, perhaps. Their $9.99, certainly. But "Younger Now" doesn't have the aesthetic of moral bankruptcy. Cyrus follows Joan Didion's advice: there are no ugly confrontations, just a smile and a shrug and a "change is a thing you can count on." The music sounds good; clean, like fresh air. [6]

Maxwell Cavaseno: More and more, Miley Cyrus's current phase feels less like the next step of a continuous desperation to be the star of her generation and instead appears to be evolving into their conscience. "Younger Now" sonically feels like a big budget Neko Case song, with the intent of continuously reminding us that the perpetual zest of annoyance that characterized so much of Cyrus's more 'edgy' period has been expulsed like so much poison for the sake of a nice, responsible, maturity. This is the Miley so many of us all knew she was deep down, whom she has finally allowed to breathe without trying to be so wild and crazy. Fact of the matter is, this burnout for all its satisfaction as a pop song feels more desolate than the pine-needle provocations of Bangerz & Dead Petz. If anything, her more crooked material at least had the ideas of a wild desire to impress people. Now we're left with placation and a bowed head of humility, tragic resignation that just feels less like being tamed than being broken. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: How many pop stars have to penitently abandon electro before we note it not as individual awakenings but a trend? The playbook is the same: hemlines lowered, parties canceled, acoustic guitars mixed to near-pornographic emphasis, duet with Dolly Parton or someone like her. Miley has read your thinkpieces and made musical apologies, mea maxima Crow. Or maxima megachurch, as the stolid kick drum suggests big sterile auditoriums and the nonspecificity of Cyrus' supposed awakening would work fine at a youth-group baptism. You probably think I hate this, but it's not all bad. Pro: Synthpop is plenty friendly to alto voices and thick timbres (evidence: the entire '80s), but perhaps in a soft-rock setting the solidity to Miley's voice might be less lost on listeners, since they think it isn't autotuned. Con: The demographic cynicism of it all; I'm sure it's not lost on Miley or anyone that Sam Hunt's "Body Like a Back Road" is in the Top 10 and is getting the kind of pop radio airplay that hip hop-influenced tracks increasingly aren't. Pro: I've got a soft spot for pop-rock, that spot where Lilith Fair meets U2; it's funny and kinda vindicating to see people like it when not by those names. Con: With "maturity" and "realness" invariably comes a thematic flattening, the pat morality of a story's end; there's more weirdness and emotional ambivalence in Tove Lo or Halsey or the near-entirety of R&B than these bowdlerized bangerz. [5]

Rebecca A. Gowns: Such a confusing career move. Miley's trading in her tasteless minstrel show act for a scrubbed-up, more "mature" brand and a whiter shade of pale. Even though she claims she's "younger" now, the song feels decades older and terribly dated, much like those rich teenage girls who dress like their mothers. She's trying to sound more self-assured, but all I can hear is a little girl clomping around in big high heels, telling us she's not a baby, she's five; she refuses to do what we expect from her, but her imagination is still confined to the walls of her own house. [3]

Scott Mildenhall: It's almost startling how Miley Cyrus seems to have opted out of the illusion of notoriety just as easily as she bluntly manufactured it. All that carry-on a few years ago pierced consciousnesses beyond common pop-cultural bounds, but it was only ever a moment. The narrative needn't be rounded out: from the media to the media-averse, the uninvested most likely made their money and moved on, or simply forgot. Teflon controversy and the allegedly anarchic give way to breezy spirituality, a break with the past is used as water and not petrol on the flames, and short memories are harnessed. Miley Cyrus sounds like she's forgotten she cared, and that she wants you to do the same. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#Miley Cyrus #Younger Now

0 notes

girlsagainst-archive · 7 years ago

Text

GA Bookclub#1 // Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay - written by Alice Porter

‘Books are often far more than just books’ writes Roxane Gay in her essay ‘I Once Was Miss America’. This statement rings true to me when writing this blog post and epitomises why I want to use this book club to discuss important issues. The meanings and implications that many of the books I have read have helped shape my perspective of the world. ‘Bad Feminist’ was one of these books, as I first read it a couple of years ago when I was beginning to discover feminism as something that aligned with my beliefs, but was fearful to outright call myself a feminist in fear of ‘getting it wrong’. This book allowed me to realise that I could still be a feminist even if some of my past and present habits did not align with my beliefs, as long as I was working on improving these things. As the last line of the book states, ‘I would rather be a bad feminist than no feminist at all.’ ‘Bad Feminist’ is very accessible, not only because of its conversational voice throughout but because of Gay’s complete willingness to admit that she is far from the ‘perfect feminist’, if such a thing really exists. The book also begins with the claim that feminism is flawed ‘because it is a movement powered by people and people are inherently flawed’. This is important to remember, especially for people who are quick to denounce feminism, and the statement allows a reader who is sceptical of feminism to find a middle ground with Gay, perhaps making them more willing to listen to what she has to say. ‘Me’ The first set of essays have a confessional tone, as does much of the book, as Gay, amongst various other things, goes into detail on her competitive scrabble wins and losses. These essays are humorous and portray Gay as relatable and charismatic to the reader, allowing her to discuss the hard-hitting issues this book is about whilst remaining approachable to the reader. This aspect of the text makes ‘Bad Feminist’ a really great book for someone who is still finding their feet as a feminist and is perhaps feeling overwhelmed, and Gay’s discussion of popular culture would also be useful for this reader as it is something most people can use as a reference point and reflects how the promotion of intersectional feminism is still absolutely necessary. My favourite essay from this section is ‘Peculiar Benefits’ as Gay discusses the necessity of acknowledging privilege but the dangers of completely silencing those with it, which would create ‘a world of silence’. She claims: ‘we need to get to a place where we discuss privilege by way of observation and acknowledgment rather than accusation’, which is crucial as I have witnessed how excluding individuals from conversation has dwindled discussion rather than encouraged it. ‘Gender and Sexuality’ These essays have an autobiographical format, which allows Gay to use her own experiences to discuss gender and sexuality, whilst also considering their portrayal in popular culture. In ‘How We All Lose’ Gay denounces the view that women should be grateful because of the progression of our position in society over the last 100 years, stating, ‘better is not good enough, and it’s a shame that anyone would be willing to settle for so little.’ As a woman who has been told that the cat-calling that makes me feel physically sick from vulnerability should be taken as a compliment, I can vouch for the fact that just because our rights have improved, we are yet to gain total equality. Gay states ‘if the patriarchy is dead, the numbers have not gotten the memo’ and, from my experience, neither have the men who shout sexual remarks at a women walking home alone at night. ‘The Careless Language of Sexual Violence’ is an essay that explores how damaging the casual ways in which we deal with rape can be, from living in a time that ‘necessitates the phrase rape culture’ to it’s gratuitous portrayals in television and film. Gay discusses how language is often used to ‘buffer our sensibilities’ from the brutality of sexual assault, leading to sympathy for the perpetrator and isolating the victim. This is something that is hugely relatable for me as someone who would shrug my soldiers when I was sexually assaulted at gigs saying things like, ‘they only pinched my bum, it’s not a big deal’ whilst feeling completely uncomfortable for the rest of the night, Even at a gig around a year and half ago when I spent the last two songs being grinded on and groped despite my clear unease and efforts to move away leading me to leave the gig early, I refused to accept to myself that I had been sexually assaulted and even attempted to make up excuses for the perpetrator in my head. Being sexually assaulted felt a great deal more significant than being ‘felt up’ but had I immediately accepted that that was what had happened to me, I know it would have been much easier to remove any responsibility for what happened from myself. This essay does a great job at bringing the importance of the language around sexual assault to light that, as Gay states, is not just careless but criminal. In ‘Beyond the Measure of Men’ Gay discusses how the actions of women are often compared to and measured against those of men and portrays the prevalence of this this through certain books written by women being labelled as ‘women’s fiction’ but similar books written by men being simply fiction for everyone. She states ‘narratives about certain experiences are somehow legitimised when mediated through a man’s perspective’. This is something that I had never considered but found really interesting as a book-lover. In the essay ‘Some Jokes Are Funnier Than Others’ Gay considers the humour behind rape jokes. She concludes that they not only serve to remind women that their bodies are open to legislation and public discourse but also that it is because sexual violence is embedded into our culture so deeply that people feel comfortable in making these jokes. Gay talks about her experience of rape in this book and, for me, her story alone would be enough to make rape jokes unfunny and completely insensitive. She also explains why women are allowed to respond negatively to misogynistic humour, ‘We are free to speak as we choose without fear or prosecution or persecution, but we are not free to speak as we choose without consequence.’ The final essay I’m going to discuss from this set is ‘Blurred Lines, Indeed’ as it discusses how music and feminism are linked - something that is particularly relevant to Girls Against. She looks at how rape culture is embedded and accepted in popular music such as in Robin Thicke’s ‘Blurred Lines’ that ‘revisits the age-old belief that sometimes when a woman says no she really means yes.’ Gay comments on how the culture that supports entertainment that objectifies women also elects lawmakers who work to restrict reproductive freedom. Gay describes this as a ‘chicken and the egg’ situation and as ‘trickle-down misogyny’. If we cannot deduce whether it is the lawmakers influencing the media or the media influencing the lawmakers should we really be willing to treat these songs as insignificant? ‘Race and Entertainment’ The next set of essays are significantly shorter, seemingly because they are much more focussed and specific than the previous set, as Gay discusses how race is portrayed in entertainment through considering various films and their significance. The first essay is centred around The Help and Gay’s take on a film/book that I initially enjoyed was really interesting and helped me to see it in a different light. She explains how The Help is a white interpretation of the black experience and is ‘an unfairly emotionally manipulative movie’, offering us a ‘sanitised’ picture of the early 1960s portraying life as hard for white women, and slightly harder for black women, when in reality life for black women was immeasurably more difficult in segregated America. Gay also describes the black women in this book and film as ‘caricatures…finding pieces of truth and genuine experience and distorting them to repulsive effect.’ After reading this essay I can see that this film that I initially enjoyed was seemingly created for the purpose of enjoyment alone. It uses real historical events that are distressing to provide entertainment and not to truthfully portray the painful history of black Americans because if this were the film’s purpose, an accurate depiction of their experiences would have undoubtedly been more of a priority. Gay feels similarly about Django Unchained, a film that I have not seen and so have less authority to comment on, describing it as ‘obnoxious’ and ‘indulgent’ as Tarantio uses a traumatic cultural experience to ‘exercise his hubris for making farcically violent, vaguely funny movies that set to right historical wrongs from a very limited, privileged position’. She also touches on the Oscars and how ‘Hollywood has very specific notions about how it wants to see black people on the silver screen’, as critical acclaim is often dependent on black suffering or subjugation. She asserts that despite this, audiences are ready for more from black film and I certainly agree with this- there is a great deal more to black experience and history than slavery. In a further essay ‘The Last Day of a Young Black Man’ Gay discusses the detrimental effects of demonising young black men in contemporary cinema in reference to the shooting of 22-year old, defenceless Oscar Grant. The effects of the demonisation of young black men in society are terrifying and Gay’s examination of how this is reflected in film is harrowing. Orange Is The New Black is the subject of the last essay in this set ‘When Less Is More’ as Gay explains how its source material concerning a privileged white woman serving a prison sentence will never be anything more than this. She also states that ,as black woman, she is tired of feeling like she should be grateful ‘when popular culture deigns to acknowledge the experiences of people who are not white, middle class or wealthy, and heterosexual’ and that the way in which we are focussing on OITNB’s attempt at doing this shows the extent to which we are forced and willing to settle. ‘Politics, Gender and Race’ These seven essays cover a broad range of issues and are much less focussed than the previous two sets. In the first essay ‘The Politics of Respectability’ Gay discusses the danger of encouraging respectability politics, stating that the targets of oppression should not be wholly responsible for ending that oppression. She uses examples to portray the problems in suggesting that just because one person from a marginalised group has been successful this does not mean everyone is able to reach this same level of success. This is an interesting essay that shows the many ways in which different groups of people can be diminished and the difficult consequences of this. In perhaps my favourite essay of the entire book, ‘The Alienable Rights of Women’, Gay discusses reproductive healthcare and why it is so important to women’s freedom. Repeating the phrase ‘Thank goodness women do not have short memories’ throughout the essay, Gay explores how trivially reproductive freedom is discussed by certain politicians and why the ongoing debate surrounding it, usually instigated by men, is ‘the stuff of satire’. People have actually questioned me on why reproductive healthcare is a women’s rights issue and although I usually have a long and detailed answer to this, Gay sums it up neatly, ‘There is no freedom in any circumstance where the body is legislated, none at all.’ ‘The Racism We All Carry’ explains how racism is embedded in pretty much all of us because ‘We’re human. We’re flawed. Most people are simply at the mercy of centuries of cultural conditioning.’ Gay comments on the fact that for many people, there are times when you can be racist and times when you cannot, depending on your company and setting. Sadly, I feel this is true for a great deal of people, proving Gay’s previous point. ‘Back To Me’ In the final set of essays, Gay plainly states that she ‘falls short as a feminist’ and describes the ways in which she does. Not only this but she describes how feminism has been ‘warped by misperception’ and that her main issue with it is that it ‘doesn’t allow for the complexities of human experience or individuality.’ Gay’s rejection of a prescribed form of feminism is really what makes her approach so accessible. She concludes in stating that although she might be a ‘bad feminist’, she is committed to the issues feminism promotes despite its issues and that it’s importance and necessity cannot be denied. I enjoyed reading ‘Bad Feminist’ this time round as much as I did reading it for the first time, however there are some small issues I have with it. Gay’s complete acceptance in sometimes falling short as a feminist and straying from the principles that she believes in provides reassurance for the reader but perhaps too much leniency. It’s okay if some of your habits don’t completely align with your views but I think rather than completely accepting it, it’s important to work on changing them and improving yourself and Gay’s approach is often a little too laidback for me. I would have also liked Gay’s essays to have been more focussed on the topics they were supposed to be centred around according to the sub-heading they were under. Although I enjoyed the essays themselves, I felt like the way in which they were organised into sub-headings was a little bit lazy and last-minute and this is especially relevant to the penultimate set of essays, ‘Politics, Gender & Race’. Despite these arguably minor issues I took with the book, I think it is great because it covers such a wide range of topics in an informative, thought-provoking way and I would recommend it to feminist newbies and veterans alike, so much so that I rated it 5 stars on Goodreads, which is rare to say the least! If you can’t get hold of the book, many of her essays are available online including some of the ones I have mentioned. For the month of August, the Girls Against Book Club will be reading ‘The Color Purple’ by Alice Walker. If you aren’t familiar with this feminist classic, it’s a novel, first published in 1982, set in rural Georgia that focuses on the life of women of colour in the 1930s. I’ve wanted to read this book for a while and I hope that you will join me in reading or re-reading it! If you do have any thoughts on ‘The Color Purple’, the Girls Against Book Club would love to hear them and we will feature any comments we particularly enjoy in the September blog post. You can send them to us any time before Sunday 3rd September using the hashtag on twitter #GABookClub, email us at [email protected] or join our GoodReads group and contribute to the monthly book discussion here. All credit to the wonderful Alice Porter

#bookclub #bad feminist #roxane gay

0 notes

carnegiestout · 8 years ago

Text

Book or Movie? “Warm Bodies” review

If I know I’m going to see a movie based on a book I usually read the book first, knowing full well that the movie will probably not live up to my expectations. However, I saw Warm Bodies in the theater before reading the book, so I had no preconceived notions about casting or characterization. In fact all I knew about Warm Bodies was that it was a take on Romeo and Juliet, but with zombies. I went to see this film with a group of friends who also happen to be co-workers. Of the six of us who went, only two of us really enjoyed it. So, she (Allison) and I decided to review the movie and book, which we read later.

The Movie "Warm Bodies" Directed by Jonathan Levine. Starring Nicholas Hoult, Teresa Palmer, Rob Corddry & John Malkovich

Amy: I don’t care what anyone else said, I loved Warm Bodies. It was funny, sappy, and a little bit gross. Exactly what one might expect from a zombie romcom. Allison: Thank you! I loved it! It was exactly what I wanted it to be - funny, cheesy, with only a few bits of horror! I also really liked how short it was - I’m sick of three hour long epics! Amy: I'm totally with you there. The thought of sitting in a theater for three-plus hours makes me dread going to the movies. Another thing I loved about Warm Bodies was R’s inner monologue. It was just funny and kind of sad. Yes there were parts that were kind of stupid, but again, it is a ZOMBIE romantic comedy.

Allison: Yes! A similar movie, Shaun of the Dead, was marketed as a romantic comedy with zombies, although that one was more about the living people than the dead. But the idea is the same - this isn't a gore-filled Romero movie. Yes, there are horror elements, but that’s not the crux of the story. While we’re on the subject, one difference between the movie and the book is the outfit R wears. In the movie, he wears jeans and hoodie (setting up a great joke) but in the book, R wears black dress pants, a white shirt and a red tie. I like to think this is a hat-tip to Shaun of the Dead, since that’s the same outfit Shaun (Simon Pegg) wears. Amy: Also, it was leaps and bounds better than Twilight. People need to stop comparing it to Twilight. Allison: I admit that I haven’t read Twilight, but I was forced to see the movie version and I agree 100%. It’s unfortunate that every movie with supernatural elements that centers on a romance is now, apparently, doomed to be lumped together with Twilight. I think many people who would really enjoy the movie haven’t or won’t see it because of that false association. Amy: Another thing I loved about this movie was the relationships between the main characters and their BFF’s. M stood by R when the rest of the zombies wanted to eat Julie and Nora stood by Julie when the rest of the humans wanted to kill R. Allison: Rob Corddry really stole the show as M; some of the best lines were his, whether they were funny or frightening. Both he and Nicholas Hoult expressed more in a grunt or a gesture than most other actros could. M’s character in the book is a bit different (at least physically) than how Corddry portrayed him, but the loyalty, humor and hope are there in each version.

M (Rob Corddry) and R (Nicholas Hoult) in deep conversation at an airport bar. Via Filmofilia.com

Amy: I think Rob Corddry had about five spoken lines in the movie and I absolutely agree that he stole the show. I read somewhere that the cast studied with Cirque de Soliel to get the zombie movements down. I think they did an excellent job. Amy: Speaking of best friends, Julie's best friend Nora says during a dream sequence that if she could be anything in the world she wanted to be a nurse. As we were leaving the theater several members of our group were commenting that it was sad that she said nurse instead of doctor. I realize that being a nurse is considered to be a "typical" female profession but I think being a nurse is a truly noble profession. I have several friends that are nurses and they worked incredibly hard to get their degree. So, lets not disparage a woman for wanting to be a nurse instead of doctor in a film, especially a film about zombies. And now I will get off my soapbox. Allison: Yeah, I know some viewers really objected to that! In the book, Nora goes on to explain that she doesn't think that civilization will around long enough for her to finish medical school. Nora’s character is a bit different in the book - she’s older than Julie and a bit wiser - so her reasoning sits well with me, at least. Amy: I’m choosing to ignore the really terrible CGI from the movie because I don’t think it took anything away from the story.

One of the many "bonies" that menace the Living and the Dead. Via IMBD.com

Allison: I was pleasantly surprised that the CGI wasn't as bad as it could have been given the film’s budget. It reminded me of the mummies from the 1999 movie The Mummy - good enough for the purposes of the movie. And honestly, I thought they were pretty damn menacing! Allison: One last thing about the movie - Richard Roeper (of Ebert and Roeper) gave the movie 3 ½ stars. In his review, he says that he preferred Warm Bodies over other zombie movies and TV shows (The Walking Dead, etc.) because those zombies are predictable. A mutual friend who saw the movie with us took exception to that, and thought that Warm Bodies was no less predictable than other zombie fare. While I can see why someone might say that, I think Roeper meant that the movie didn't follow the usual formula of zombies being your standard unfeeling monsters, devoid of any humanity. Having zombies that retain or regain their humanity (as well as a human falling in love with one) deviates from the standard horror formula, where the story isn't at all about the zombies, but only about the human survivors, and the zombies can easily be replaced with aliens, giant robots or whatever. You're not going to find any multi-dimensional zombies staggering around in The Walking Dead. The Book "Warm Bodies" by Isaac Marion (Fiction Marion)

Amy: My first thought about the book is that while the movie could be considered YA, I wouldn't classify the book in that way. We have it shelved in adult fiction and I believe that is where it belongs. Allison: Agreed. The writing style is more complex than what you might find in some YA - the use of terms like "Escheresque" and "vertiginous" might throw younger readers off. A good portion of the book is spent with R describing what life as a zombie is like and R’s thoughts on what caused the dead to rise. In these passages the author, I think, is using zombie life as a metaphor for depression - the alienation, the lack of interest or ambition, even the dulled senses of the Dead. Of course, this isn't a theme restricted to “adult” literature, but some younger readers might become bored with R’s continuous ruminations. Amy: At the end of the movie you get a sense that everyone will live happily ever after. At the end of the book you get the sense that although things are getting better, it will take years and years before life returns to pre-plague conditions. Allison: One of the key plot points that happens very differently in the movie and books - and which we can’t really talk about since it’d be huge spoiler - definitely contributes to that. Without giving too much away, what ultimately happens with General Grigio (Julie’s father) in the book as opposed to the movie sort of sums up the ultimate message of each. Amy: Allison mentioned that in the book the character of Nora is different, older and wiser. I liked both characterizations of Nora. I liked her sense of fun and humor in the movie and how she was wise beyond her years in the book. Maybe it is because I saw the movie first, but I think I liked the movie better. Allison: I’m having a hard time deciding which one I liked best, since they’re both so different in tone. The movie is much lighter and the focus is on the romance between R and Julie. The book delves deeper into the inner lives (such as they are) of the zombies. We hear a great deal more from R on subject other than Julie and learn that there is even a zombie society. The zombies hold worship services, have sex, marry and raise children. At the beginning of the novel, R meets and marries his wife and later they are given two zombie children to feed and teach. There’s much more world-building in the book than in the movie, which works really well. If the movie had too much of that - aside from R’s introduction at the beginning - it would have been bogged down and much too dark. One section I really enjoyed and illustrates the side of zombie society we don't see as well in the movie was R's (internal) explanation of why he dislikes being called a "corpse" or a "zombie." When Julie first calls R a "corpse" R thinks, "...I realize she can’t possibly know the sensitive cultural connotations of the word 'corpse' …" R also dislikes it when Julie refers to herself as "human," as opposed to a corpse or a zombie. R thinks of himself as human; a Dead human, but human nonetheless. Amy: Marion did an excellent job giving his characters depth and making the reader feel that the "Dead" were also human. He also did a great job relaying that both the Zombie and Human populations were dead in the sense that there was very little hope that either population would survive. That being said, I would tell people to read the book and see the movie in any order they choose. Allison: Absolutely! After I read the book, I found the short story that inspired it, I Am a Zombie Filled With Love online. I'm also planning to read the prequel Marion is writing, The New Hunger which right now is only available as an eBook from Zola Books, but you can read an excerpt on Entertainment Weekly's website here. And if you can't get enough of romance and/or zombies, click here for a list of similar books and movies! ~ Amy and Allison, Adult Services

#book advice #good books #book review #movie review #books to movies #warm bodies #Isaac Marion #zombies #zombie romance #science fiction

0 notes