#let alone had websites for graves

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Watching a video on the woman who cleans graves on tiktok and oh my god, the inner used-to-walk-around-graveyards-when-visiting-dad-at-work is coming out of me in a bad way because holy shit, stop using products that will erode the grave stones faster??? Stop doing so many product placements while talking about someone whose dead??? Stop asking so many weird questions like, 'was she pretty?'??? Like, it'd be one thing if she was being respectful and using products that don't fuck up the grave stones chances further and actually not promoting other products and even her own, but she is only seemingly respectful to graves belonging to people who did stuff like fire fighter duties, everyone else just gets no respect.

[coyote-with-a-keyboard]

NEVER stop writing ftm Graves. It is one of the best things on this silly website

A/N: Oh my god THANK YOU SO DANG MUCH EAAAAAA. I love writing for graves and I love making characters trans, so it’s a win win for me- anyhow enjoy this Drabble in trans Phillip appreciation

Minors DNI - TW PERIOD BLOOD BTW

Phillip gasped, groaning and clutching the sheets of his rusted barrack. He could barely think, let alone breathe enough to say anything- feeling your tongue against his folds and moving in-between eating him out or sucking on his clit, his thighs shaky from the bites you had given him and the shear amount of times he had came. His hands fumbled to grasp at your hair, pulling you up and feeling your hands still firmly keeping his thighs open.

Your jaw and lower face was utterly covered in his blood as if he was bleeding out and not just on his horrid time of the month.. it was really fucking hot, if not a bit morbid. He let his thumb brush off some of the viscous tanged liquid that seemed to stain against your teeth and lips

he had called you the day before with bad cramps and feeling sick, and you had stayed the night and when he started to feel a bit tired in the early morning, he didn’t expect it to end with this moment of silence where he caught his breath. He opened his mouth to speak, only for hot air to come out when you leaned back down and kissed his clit, running your hands up his thighs a bit with a smug smile across your face…

oh today was going to be a long day for him- much better then staying home alone with his cramps.

[jabathegut]

I know people have told you this in the past, but it's true. To get a dedicated FFA, you're going to need to already be 300+ levels of BHM. Speaking from experience.

You're sticking yourself in the position of being too fat for non-FFAs but too skinny for anyone with the kink. You're handsome bro, but your chances of pulling the kind of girl who wants a fat bf are better if.. you're a fat bf to start. It sucks that people are fickle but this is the reality for big guys, and no one online who might move to be with you is going to be convinced to do that if you're not actively "performing" being serious about gaining.

This happens with male/male gainers too. The ones who get all the attention and hook up successfully are those that are living the life of a gainer already, you get more attention from posts and more feeders reach out. You can do it, man. You've got a huge leg up on most guys just from being attractive and taking care of your hygiene as a big guy, and when you were bloated your posts were consistent and what women wanted to see. I also wouldn't put myself in a box where I can only enjoy gaining if I have a woman by my side, just make it fun for you again.

This is actually pretty well thought out! And I do get your logic!

Unfortunately, I found that married women that are married to skinny men they want to live their fantasy out with me as a piece of meat they chat with, or a traditionally attractive, chick that has a fat fetish wants to get nasty with me on Snapchat then block you the morning after. And because she’s traditionally attractive automatically, I should be super thankful and fortunate that she sexted me and left me hanging. Or the 10 female feeders they all want 6 foot four ball gut beer belly type dudes and they just have a different type and they get blown up 1 million times and so I’m not gonna be one to sit here and hound them if they don’t wanna hold a conversation or they don’t wanna reach out then I’m not gonna sit here and be needy, Im way to busy for that so if these women don’t hit me up either they’re too busy or they are flooded well is what is what it is.. thats the internet…

I totally get that. You’re gonna have to put yourself out there and live the lifestyle, but the lifestyle is extremely dangerous. I don’t wanna live alone. I want a partner. I have a really great life outside of this and I wanna share that with somebody. But you seem to fail the understand as I’ve been doing this for a decade I’m done doing it by myself. I’m done with this pop tart little Internet, fling Sexting bullshit. I want it in real life.. just like Post Malone said “I want to feel something real”. I just don’t understand why that’s too much to ask for Traditional dating websites. THEY don’t like any chubby men any fat men and any man that’s not 6 foot four with a gorgeous head of hair with rippling muscles just doesn’t farewell on any kind of online dating. All of my friends are married. All my friends have kids. All of my friends are literally doing their own life and that’s OK, unfortunately on a Friday night ON MY birthday I had Jimmy John’s watch Netflix by myself and went to bed… no birthday stuffing no belly rubs. Didn’t even get to make love and you know I just want simple things! This is a young man’s world I’m 36 years old and I just can’t be living this lifestyle anymore like I have to have reason I can’t just go to an early grave and if I’m gonna live alone, I’d rather have a great life I’d rather not have chronic diseases to so some person on the Internet can maybe come date me and maybe You know if I have a delusional type of way of thinking maybe it’ll happen but I’ve just seen the community for the last decade and it’s just not gonna happen. I’ve been delusional this whole time and I’ve had great experiences but I just can’t live my life and hope and be delusional anymore And no feeder no female fat admirer no person wants to hear anything about Balance or maybe let’s take it easy for a year or two so I don’t fucking kill myself… I done eating myself into $40,000 of credit card debt because I’m trying to get so fat… maybe I should be a little more frugal maybe lose some weight and get my finances in order… at some point you gotta be an adult.. countless and I mean, countless female BBW gainers are all losing weight. It’s a trend look at the community as a whole. The problem is is they have dudes lined up that are going to be there regardless they have men that will be with them and they’re gonna get attention regardless whatever they do for me I better be on the brink of financial calamity and have all kinds of health issues for maybe a little Sexting on Snapchat and then a block..

what gives????!?

[nesiacha]

in your opinion, what was the most significant mistake the jacobins ever made? (i tend to like them much more than other factions in the frev, but i still want to know how Problematic my Faves were)

Good question. I'm not sure which period you want to talk about regarding the Jacobins, so let's discuss the one after the fall of Louis XVI's monarchy. I will mainly encompass the Mountain faction.

Regarding tactical errors, according to some historians, including Antoine Resche, a contemporary historian who has made excellent videos on the French Revolution under the name Histony, which can be found on the Veni Vidi Sensi website, leans towards the lack of left-wing unity as one of the errors. And honestly, he's not wrong. Some might think that the elimination of Danton and the Hébertists was a turning point. But it was salvageable (I've already discussed what I thought in one of my posts). Only the Jacobins made the grave mistake of eliminating Chaumette, among others, even though he had refused to participate in an attempt to overthrow the Convention, which showed he was the most reasonable. Keeping him as the prosecutor of the Commune would have appeased some of the sans-culottes. Instead, the Convention has him arrested and executed. I understand that at that time the Convention could not afford an overthrow and was afraid Chaumette might change his mind, but by doing so, they alienated a large part of the sans-culottes. The wave of executions like Gobel or Chaumette was one of the most disastrous moves.

Another one is the non-application of the Ventôse laws, but it is true that some Montagnards blocked this, and the Marais was against these laws.

Also, being a fervent advocate of freedom of expression, there should never have been decrees holding journalists accountable. I don't particularly like Desmoulins, but executing him for his writings… Moreover, it will not prevent opinions from forming and solidifying.

Regarding moral errors: In addition to the travesties of justice I mentioned concerning the Hébertists and the Dantonists, there were other cases. When Girondin deputies were dismissed, most deputies did not want them dead, let alone imprisoned. They were only supposed to remain under house arrest. The problem is, many of them escaped and incited uprisings in the departments, which further exacerbated the already endangered Republic. Despite all I have to reproach them for, some Girondins were honorable people, notably Manon Roland and Vergniaud (even if Vergniaud had an ambiguous attitude, he still remained under house arrest) who stay in Paris. Yet they were judged, condemned to death, and executed along with other Girondins who incited or attempted uprisings and fled Paris. It wasn't even a tactical error; it was unfair.

Another very minor point concerns the Convention entirely, and this is my opinion. Why separate Marie Antoinette from her son? I understand there were royalists in Paris (the assassination of the remarkable Louis Michel Lepeletier by one of Louis XVI's former guards, among other events, will demonstrate this) who would do anything to get their hands on him as Louis XVII, which would have been dangerous. It would have been better to monitor the child's education closely given this context, but why not have strict supervision while leaving him in his mother's care, even though we know her opinions? I don't want to demonize Antoine Simon, executed in Thermidor; he wasn't a brute; he had compassion for the former queen and liked the child, but it's horrible. Being myself a proponent of reforms for jail to ensure the child remains very close to his parents, I protest against this. And the royalists seized upon it to portray an image of an inhumane Republic.

Women's rights were not respected, as I discussed in my post "Women's rights suppressed."

One of the most serious errors was the Prairial Law. When this bill presented by Couthon and later approved by the Committee of Public Safety and voted on by the Convention passed, many innocents suffered. Following the execution of the "Robespierrists," the Convention lied, saying it had not approved it, which was false.

Paradoxically, there was no internal elimination necessary at that time, notably the case of Carnot, who gave orders behind the backs of others to wage a war of conquest, which would have jeopardized the Battle of Fleurus if Saint-Just had not intervened with the order. I don't understand why he wasn't arrested; generals have been executed for less than that. This man doesn't deserve his title as the organizer of Victory, but having eliminated those who had really done the job like Saint-Just, among others, he could claim that title.

I realize I have done a critical job on the Montagnards even though I admire them, so a few lines to rehabilitate them. Most of them refused the irresponsible war of conquest advocated by the Girondins. Finally, fatigue was fatal to them. They put their best efforts into saving France, but most became ill (Couthon, Robespierre; I don't know if Billaud-Varenne was beginning to develop his dysentery or if his illness came after his deportation). Robespierre made a grave mistake by slamming the door on the Committee of Public Safety following a dispute among its members, then a few weeks later making a speech where he designated culprits without naming names (like Fouché, for example), so some wrongly believed they were the ones being designated when they weren't. Fouché and his gang played on this.

I want to say that Jean Clement Martin explained that if the Girondins are seen as victims, it's because they didn't have time to put the Montagnards on the guillotine. There were quite a few assassinations of Montagnard deputies (some think that Barbaroux manipulated Corday to kill Marat, Joseph Chalier was killed in atrocious conditions by the Girondins of Lyon, Isnard's speech). When the Jacobins acted, there was an internal civil war and an external war against the Revolution, plus a depreciated currency. And they saved it. For a while, they tried to accommodate (at least the majority of them) their adversaries. Then the gloves came off. But they remained in democracy, even in the worst moments. The Jacobins supported the abolition of slavery (not just them), and most of the major Jacobin figures fully supported the uprisings by slaves against the colonists.

Napoleon, although praised today for inheriting a better situation thanks to the efforts of his predecessors, through his dictatorial attitudes, betrayal of the Jacobins, and wars of conquest (all the wrong things), left France in a worse state with the return of the Bourbons. Revolutionaries like Marat predicted from the outset of the French Revolution that if the Girondins persisted in declaring war, even if France were victorious, there would be a military dictatorship and subsequently the return of the Bourbons.

All this leads me to think that it was the revolutionaries of the Mountain who were pragmatic and Napoleon the "idealist" in the wrong sense of the term, given his grandiosity and stupid belief (in my opinion) that he could impose hereditary dictatorship, exploit other countries without them retaliating (but that's another story).

Finally, the Jacobins in power were exhausted; they even lacked sleep hours due to their internal schedules. Before the Prairial Law was passed, there was an assassination attempt on Collot, so it was thought that the royalist danger was present. Plus, this law was disfigured by those who presented it; they thought they would only use it against people like Fouché, Carrier, Barras, Fréron, Tallien—des despicable men who dishonored France and the Revolution. It was they who later presented themselves as victims of the Jacobins when they were the worst during the Terror. Contrary to belief, heads rolled after the Terror; just look at the execution of Romme and the other Montagnards, the execution of Babeuf, the fact that anyone who demanded the constitution of 1793 could be punishable by death.

Finally, I want to say that despite my speeches, I don't believe in providential men; if France could have a sense of greatness during this period, it's thanks to the people. In Algeria, we have the slogan: "One hero only: the people."

[toaarcan]

I shouldn't be surprised, given that this is the Voter Suppression Website, but it's also the Punch Nazis Website and I really did expect people to have made peace with the fact that World War II happened and was ultimately necessary.

Like, I am by no means a warhawk. War is bad, the military is bad (though there's a lot of nuance there, because not having one is generally a really bad idea unless you can somehow convince everyone in the world to not have one, which you can't. Yes, the military can be a tool of imperialism. It can also be a defence against it, see Ukraine for a very current example), pacificism is great. But pacifism did not, and would not, stop the Axis.

I am also well aware that the Allies' hands were far from clean. We bombed civilians. America turned away refugees from Germany that weren't 'useful.' At the highest levels, Britain and France went to war with Germany over fears of expansionism, not because they were inherently opposed to the vile ideologies espoused by the Nazis. Everyone just kinda let imperial Japan do whatever the fuck they wanted in east Asia until they made the mistake of touching America's boats.

But in the end, the war was still a necessity. How else were the Allies supposed to stop them?

The Nazis killed six million Jewish people between 1933 and 1945. Hitler blamed the Jewish people for Germany's defeat in WWI, which makes no fucking sense, but when has bigotry ever made sense? He drew upon centuries upon centuries of antisemitism to make mass genocide a political platform that he ran on, and he won. And almost as soon as he came to power, and secured his position, he began a systematic genocide.

He and his followers were so dedicated to killing and abusing Jews that they made strategic fuckups in the war, just to continue the holocaust. When the US and British forces landed in Normandy, and the USSR began pushing in from the east, the Nazi response was to accelerate the genocide, because killing Jews mattered more to them than winning the war.

More people died building the V2 rocket at Mittelwerk than were killed in all of the V2 strikes against Britain and France. As is often said of today's fascists, cruelty was the point.

In addition to the Jewish victims of the camps, the Nazis also killed 3.3 million Soviet prisoners of war, 1.8 million Polish people that were not Jewish, 250000-500000 Romani and other travellers, 310000 Serbian civilians, 250000-300000 people with disabilities (including at least 10000 children), 'tens of thousands' of German civilians who were politically opposed to the Nazis, 35000 criminals, 1700 Jehovah's Witnesses, an unknown number of LGBTQ+ people, and an unknown number of black people.

We don't know the full numbers, because the other thing they did when they realised they were losing is burn the records. They dug up mass graves and burned the bodies. We know as much as we do because they killed so many people that it was physically impossible for them to destroy all the evidence.

They created industrialised genocide. And this is just the holocaust, not the sum total of Nazi crimes, let alone those perpetrated by fascist Italy and imperial Japan.

So yeah, in light of all of that, I cannot, and will not entertain any drop of "Well actually the Allies were bad too" because the magnitude of the horror that the Axis were indulging renders it moot. They did bad shit too? Yeah, well, they were at war with the fucking Nazis.

One of the most important parts of the first few years of the war was the Battle of Britain. At that point, the French had been defeated, and the USSR still had a very tense alignment with Germany and Italy. America had yet to formally join the war, but were selling weapons to Britain, who were seemingly the last nation left in the fight. A few American pilots had also made the trip to Britain to join the fight.

In order to launch a land invasion of the British Isles, the Nazis had to achieve air superiority over them, and so began a series of raids against the RAF, and at first, they were doing pretty well. Targeting airbases and radar installations was the correct strategic move.

And then something happened that turned the tide: The RAF bombed Berlin.

This has been claimed to be an accident, the bombers were simply lost in the night, and thought they were targeting an air base, and they weren't. That probably wasn't true. But however it happened, it pissed Hitler off massively, and he ordered the Luftwaffe to switch focus to bombing British cities.

This was a tactical blunder like no other. Taking focus away from the actual military targets allowed the RAF to regroup and actually put the defensive plan for the islands into motion. Scores of British, Polish, French, and American pilots fought to defend Britain, guided by the now-unmolested radar stations.

And it worked. In fact, it worked really well. By the end of the Battle of Britain, the Luftwaffe had lost so many planes and so many pilots that it severely affected their tactical use for the rest of the war.

More than that, losing the Battle of Britain meant that A) the Nazis had lost their perceived invincibility, as someone had now taken them on and won, and B) it meant that Hitler's plan to avoid a two-front war, to knock France and Britain out entirely before rounding on the USSR, had failed, and being a deranged, genocidal nutbar, who viewed the existence of Communism as an existential threat, threw away the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact and declared war on the Soviets.

The Nazi reaction to the defeat of the Battle of Britain, something arguably caused by the bombing of Berlin, was the first step toward their total defeat.

So yeah, I wholeheartedly believe that fighting WWII was ultimately the best thing the Allies could've done, and the people that made the decision to fight against the Nazis did the right thing, even if they did it for the wrong reasons, or used bad methods to do so. Of all the wars throughout human history, this is the one I can argue needed to happen above all else.

[saltsicklover]

Part One

Here is part one! I hope you enjoy!!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1400+

Rating: R

Warnings: Drinking, Loneliness, Talk of Therapy/MFLAC, Mention of Deployment, swearing.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Natasha Trace has always been one to stay focused, pedal to the metal, the kind of woman who wouldn't let anything get in the way of her education, her career, her dreams. It wasn't until she hit flight school that she really learned how alone in the world she seemed to be. Going home on leave meant seeing her parents and a few 'friends' that she kept in contact with once she left college. They mostly met with her to rub their career advancements, engagements and children in her face. Their lives always the picture perfect, white picket face dreams while hers stories were full of chaos and jet fuel. 

Finally, after her first off shore training, when no one was there to greet her, she finally shuffled into the MFLAC office at the nearest Navel Base after they docked in Pensacola. The counselor was kind and listened while Natasha poured her heart out about no having anyone. No romance, no friendships, she felt like she was completely slipping. Twenty two years old, too young to take on so much alone and too old to bother her mother with everything. So she settled for the Military resources available to her- even if they came in the form of a hippy looking man with too thick glasses and a potted plant problem. 

After what felt like ages, with tissues crumples and used clutched in her fist, she dared a glance at the man in front of her. He wore a kind smile, a goofy beanie, and a chunky cardigan. He was truly a man who looked out of another world compared to the uniforms she was usually surrounded with and that she couldn't decide if she trusted him more of less because of that fact. He offered her a few suggestions before finally holding out a sticky note with a website scrawled across it. 

"What's this?" She questioned him with a sniffle, staring down at the blue ink. She knew it was a website, of course she did, Natasha Trace is not a dumb woman, nor does she live under a rock. What she was failing to see was the significance that little website would end up being. 

"That," The counselor sits back, a confident gleam in his eye, "Is the beginning of at least one new friendship," She gives him a confused look, eyebrows furrowed together. "Its a website for digital pen-pals. You go in, create an account, fill out some get-to-know-you type stuff and then you get a list of emails from people who have similar interests as you! Then you can email back and fourth and make connections!" The counselor seemed way too excited for his own good, but Natasha stuffed the small piece of paper into her pocket anyway. 

She never planned on looking at it again, she almost forgot it was in her pocket. The note stuffed down deep in the pocket of her BDU's, no doubt heading for a watery grave in the barracks laundry room. It was only after a couple more weeks and an intense few rounds of mission training, she came home with the plan of killing a bottle of wine and forgetting everything having to do with the Navy until she had to report in again on Monday, did she think of that pesky little note. 

Halfway through that bottle, she couldn't kick the loneliness that burrowed itself so deep within her chest that she could no longer decipher it from herself. So, after digging through a pile of laundry to procure the bright pink sticky note, she positioned herself in front of her computer. 

By the time the bottle of wine was empty, she had filled out so many questions about herself from her favorite movies and foods to her hobbies. Under the "Things to Discuss" prompt, she didn't know what to write, and the cursor blinked at her for far too long before she entered "Anything but work!". It was supposed to be funny, and to her well liquored mind it certainly was. 

Before she knew it, the wine fully took her over and she was drunk typing emails to random strangers, ones that the website guarenteed she would have something in common with. They came up after the end of the almost never ending list of questions. 

She passed out after writing fifteen. 

The next afternoon, she woke up hungover, the emails all a hazy mess in her brain. But, she had one reply, one that would start a friendship that would last a lifetime. 

"Dear Nash, How wonderful it is to finally hear from someone! I started on this site a few weeks ago and had yet to receive anything until your very *colorful* email last night. I will say, it was a surprisingly vulnerable email for a first one, but I am happy to return the favor! 

I have to admit, the fact that you are a pilot is so badass! The only pilots I know fly rickety, two seater planes. What do you fly? Do you fly for one of those big airlines or maybe cargo? 

I am so sorry to hear about your feelings of loneliness and isolation; being the new kid on the block is never a fun experience. I would love to help you feel less lonely any way that I can! 

You can call me Sunny, it's not my real name, but I'd like to curate a more adult persona going into college. I ditched my tried and true nickname the minute I graduated and I'm not looking back! 

I am 18 years old, starting college out in Minnesota. I am hoping to get a degree and become a writer one day! I left home a little over three months ago, leaving my Brother and Uncle to tend the family ranch themselves. I am worried about them not having the extra set of hands but I am so glad that I can work further on my education instead of having to do heavy labor. I will miss taking care of the beehives, though! 

I really hope to hear back from you, but if you're not interested in talking to someone so much younger than you, especially when you have such a cool job. Being a piolet must be so awesome. 

With warmth, Sunny. 

PS: Were you drunk when you wrote that last email?"

That singular exchange changed Natasha's whole world. From then on, they began emailing back and fourth every few days, slowly learning more and more about each other. They also agreed on rules, ones that they wanted to use to keep themselves safe. 

No specifics about their hometowns or their families. Best to keep private information private. They used nicknames for almost everyone they talked about, which was a lot easier on Natasha's end when everyone was given callsigns. She told Sunny all the names were made up, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and it was easier to keep everyone straight in her head. 

Sunny had to get more creative, but it was a challenge she loved. After getting a few silly nicknames from Natasha's side (Which were actually call signs) she started giving people from work stupid nicknames too. Her boss was Toilet Plunger. Her brother became St. Mary. Her Uncle was Pitchfork. As the years went on, names began to stick and writing the nicknames in emails became second nature. 

Much to Natasha's dismay, though, Sunny only ever referred to her as Nash. A drunken mistake turned lifelong nickname. 

No photos, that was a big one. It was always easier to say what you really wanted to say when you couldn't picture the other person's look of disappointment. They also agreed on no phone calls; that meant no calling and singing 'happy birthday' or wishing the other a safe flight. 

That rule first bothered Natasha when she got an email six months later from Sunny, letting Nat know that Sunny had left college. She wasn't adjusting well, not to the city, or the campus or to her crazy roommate. She was close to failing out. The email made Nat's heart ache- she wanted nothing more than to call Sunny in that moment and tell her that everything would be okay, that she was smart and capable and would find her place in the world. 

Sunny wanted to call Natasha a year after that, right when she found out Natasha was being deployed for the first time. Sunny wasn't an idiot but she was also a civilian, thus having no idea what a deployment could actually mean. All Sunny knew was that she wanted to hear Natasha's voice and tell her that everything was going to be just fine. She wanted to tell Nat that she could do this. She settled for an email that read 

"I know this is scary but you can do it. You're a badass bitch, you'll get through this. Do it scared. I'll be waiting for an email. I love you, be safe." 

Nat would never admit it, but she printed that email out and stuffed it in the chest pocket of her flight suit over her heart. "Do it scared" became her motto; the motto got her home safe. 

The men on the carrier with her teased her relentlessly. They thought she was hiding some boyfriend or lover. Rumors swirled around her, and though she would never admit it to them, it made her question her sexuality. Sunny was the first person she came out to. She confided in Sunny about not being able to decide if she should say yes to the date offer from the man in her she met in line at the DEFAC or if she should say yes to the woman she met at the clinic on the day of her UA. Sunny liked to tease her about it, all out of love, saying neither were good enough stories to tell her children about. "Yeah, I met your Dad over piles of brown mush" or "Yes, I met your Mom while we were waiting to piss into cups" neither romantic in the slightest. 

They were there for each other through the toughest parts of life, and all of the moments that were worth celebrating. The years rolled on and the women became closer and closer. Having never met, they were closer than most anyone they had ever met, deciding to be each other's best friend seemingly the easiest decision either ever made. 

[estellamiraiauthor]

Some thoughts on the Ken Hill Phantom in Tokyo—both the show itself, since I’d never seen it before (only partial recordings, never even a full video) and this particular production.

Apologies in advance that I do not know the names of much of the cast… only three cast members are named on the website. I guess you had to buy a program to get some credit for the others, which seems a little shitty… they all did a great job and I’d like to be able to give credit where it’s due… if anyone happens to have a full list, let me know and I’ll add that information.

So, overall thoughts… it was a lot funnier and more fourth-wall-breaking than I expected. Not all of the jokes quite landed (either with me or with the audience in general), but it wasn’t because they were especially dated either, which is always nice in an older show. Just some moments that were like “I know I’m supposed to laugh here, but the joke’s just not that good.”

The banter between Richard (the only new manager in this version) and the old manager, and between Richard and Remy (his assistant or manservant, who kind of fills the role that a second manager sometimes does) usually worked, and all three of them were talented actors. Richard is the former manager of a railway company in this version, which he brags about quite a bit, and I think it was an interesting attempt to showcase the difference between a businessman who really doesn’t appreciate or even attempt to understand opera at all, vs. the Phantom, to whom art should be everything… unfortunately I feel like overall, the Phantom’s characterization was a little weak, which really hurt the emotional impact of the second act. More on that later.

Jammes sort of fulfills the ALW-Meg role here, and this was an interesting character for me because she wasn’t really very good of a dancer? What she did, she did competently, but definitely came off as “actress who has taken ballet lessons” rather than professional ballerina. It also didn’t seem to be much of a singing role, so not a case of choosing a singer over a dancer… I suppose she was maybe supposed to be comic relief, but the actress played her pretty straight?

Paul Potts as Faust is one of the three credited actors, alongside the Phantom and Christine. I LOVED him on Britain’s Got Talent, and watched a few videos of more recent performances when I learned he would be in this, but I wouldn’t say I’ve seriously followed his career. I was surprised in general that the role was such a funny one, and that he was extremely funny in it, because the image I had of him was definitely “Super Serious Tenor”. He was extremely enjoyable, both as a singer and as an actor here. For those who are wondering, because I Googled the role and didn’t find much, “Faust” is essentially the “Piangi” character here, except we never learn his actual name (although we do learn Mme. Giry’s!). He actually had a bigger role than I expected based on his first couple of scenes, unlike poor Mephistopheles, who got killed off fairs soon, for the actor to return as the Persian!

The other major character we meet in that first scene is Raoul, who is Richard’s son in this version. The whole “Little Lotte lost her scarf in the sea” backstory never seems to have happened. Christine and Raoul are already in love from the first scene, but we never learn where or when they met. Interestingly, while the whole “Raoul as aristocracy would never be with an opera singer” issue is not addressed here, since he’s not aristocracy, he does bring up how inappropriate it would be for Christine to be alone with a man in her dressing room. (Not that that stops HIM from barging in!) This Raoul was Sweet and noble, and I really wish I knew the actor’s name because he was a beautiful singer as well.

Christine actually didn’t get a chance to sing until fairly late in the show, and I’m pretty sure the first time she really sings is at her father’s grave, not during a performance or rehearsal! Tayla Alexander as Christine was AMAZING. It’s nice in general to see a Christine who actually is an operatic soprano (although I know that’s not really the POINT of a lot of versions, and don’t mind at all when they don’t, it’s refreshing to see a Christine close to the Leroux character?) She was a great actor too, and this is definitely a Christine with agency. I thought it was an interesting choice to have her come straight out and say “I PITY you!” at the end… that IS possibly a bit of “datedness”? Leroux, or at least the translation I have, also says “pity,” but pity isn’t necessarily seen as an emotion people WANT others to feel about them these days… not sure if that’s an evolution of language/evolution of disability culture thing, or just that this Christine is brutally honest?

So I guess this brings me to the Phantom… he also doesn’t show up until almost the end of Act 1, which is a choice I respect… mystery is good for this character! But I also feel like less interaction with Christine ultimately just made him come off as a creepy incel? I have to say, I did not love Ben Forster in the role. I just went and Googled him because other than playing the ALW Phantom, I wasn’t familiar with him at all, and it’s not at all surprising to me that he got his start in JCS and Rocky Horror etc… I’m much more interested in seeing him in those roles, because he has this like… rock-n-roll twang? To his voice that just did not fit a mostly-Leroux-faithful, generally-period-appropriate Phantom. He was overshadowed vocally not only by Potts but by the woefully uncredited Raoul and the Persian, and if the Phantom doesn’t have the most angelic voice on that stage, it just doesn’t work. I’m curious to see him as the ALW Phantom now, because I surprisingly don’t hate SOME more rock-ish voices there (Paul Stanley isn’t my favorite, but he’s far from my least favorite)… Looking those videos up once I get home!

Since I’m going through all the characters, this version actually has Mme Giry AND the Persian, although Mme Giry is in her original role as box manager! Mme Giry was another great actor and singer, she had a few nice funny moments to break up the overall gravitas of the character.

The Persian… well, this gets into the whole weakness of the second act and of the Phantom character in general. The actor who played the Persian (as well as Mephistopheles) was great, and I didn’t really have a problem with HIS character so much as the needlessly convoluted backstory they gave him and the Phantom. Just about the ONLY sympathetic backstory we get from the Phantom comes from the Persian, and he’s actually pretty brunt about it, just outright calling him “disfigured” rather than a monster or a devil’s child or whatever… which yes, is correct, but it just feels like it’s never really communicated to the audience with any degree of emotion how the Phantom (who never gets a name here) has really been robbed by society’s fear of any chance to have a normal life.

Christine doesn’t have that moment where she sees his face and is initially horrified. She doesn’t see his face at all until the end, so never gets to speak sympathetically about him to others. The Phantom never talks about his OWN past. And what we get from the Persian is mostly about how good at torture he is, oh and that he killed their parents. Because the Persian is his brother.

And I just… that feels so unnecessary? And I think, throws something in there that doesn’t need to be, because is this story set in France, written in English, now commenting on the treatment of children with facial differences in Persia? I don’t really think so, I think it was just supposed to be a big reveal, but it really fell flat. And honestly, if the dude’s parents neglected and abused him… we’ve all been following the Gypsy Rose Blanchard thing for long enough to say, maybe not that it’s OKAY to murder an abusive parent, but it’s certainly a lot more sympathetic than the Persian makes it out to be.

So, in the end, the Phantom is trying to force Christine to marry him by… yelling at her and telling her Raoul is dead. There’s no scorpion and the grasshopper, no Raoul held hostage. If she says no, he’s probably going to kill her, but he’s planning to do that anyway, so it’s a little hard to say what either of them hope to get out of the situation.

And in the end I guess he repents and kills himself, and then all of a sudden all of these people who have been physically and psychologically tormented by him gather ‘round to sing about how he won’t die without a friend? And Christine says he was once her angel of music, but because we’ve never really seen them in the same scene before this, it’s hard to really feel anything about that.

The second act just felt like a huge disappointment after the first… and a lot of that just hung on the Phantom, both the way he was written and the way he was played and sung. I’m glad I saw it, and it’s really interesting to see the parallels either way certain scenes that probably inspired ALW. I was particularly glad to be introduced to Tayla Alexander. But I’m also not going to be going back, at least not during this run.

[kirythestitchwitch]

'Necromancing the Stone' snippet

This is my Necromancer!Caroline fic with exes to lovers Klaroline.

She was halfway to her mug of coffee when her house wards shivered, followed quickly by a knock on her door. Reaching for the feeling, she tasted the magic of the person waiting on her stoop. Both dead and alive, it was like nothing she had felt before and also oddly familiar, an odd contradiction. Not unlike Enzo’s grave dust presence, but moon-drenched in the earth. The magic called to her like a howl through the deep woods, something wild, something lethal. 

They waited politely enough for something so dangerous, just barely pressed on the edge of her door wards to alert her of their presence. The parameter wards that looked for the intent to cause harm hadn’t gone off, but Caroline hadn’t gotten to her age by being incautious. Inanely, she wished for her slippers–discarded under her work table–as she padded to the front door and peeked through the peephole. 

The man on her front porch had his back to her while he looked up at the woods that butted up against the front of her property. Her dirt driveway wound through them from the main road up to the garage, and it was free of vehicles of any kind. He was presumably alone, a medium-sized blue pastry box held in one hand. There was something achingly familiar in the breadth of his shoulders in his black coat, the relaxed stance in dark jeans and well broken in boots. She studied the back of his head, his hair a shade that wasn’t sure if it was blond or brown. Slim build, not too much taller than her.

Who the fuck was on her doorstep?

Caroline shoved the sleeves of her chunky cream sweater up her arms and pulled an aneurysm to the fingertips of her right hand, jerking the door open. “Excuse you, but my consultation hours are clearly stated on–” He turned to face her, and she froze at the sight of a face she had never expected to see again. A smile curved the lips that time had not let her forget, and she watched in numb fascination as gold bled into his irises.

“On your website?” He trailed his eyes from the messy bun keeping her blonde hair out of her face, down her cable-knit sweater and fleece-lined leggings to her wool socked feet. The gold faded back to familiar blue as he met her eyes again, his gaze no less warm for the lack. “Yes, well, I did bring a peace offering.” He made a small gesture with the box.

“Klaus,” she whispered hoarsely. There was an odd ringing in her ears and she blinked a few times. No, he was still there.

“Yes,” he said, almost reassuringly. 

Her eyes dropped to the box. “That’s for me?” Her voice sounded funny. Klaus was starting to look a little concerned, which was weird because Klaus didn’t do concerned.

“I understand that they’re your favorite,” he said with a self-deprecating little shrug in acknowledgement of what he had always called ‘information gathering’ and she had always called ‘stalking.’

Her hands moved forward as emotion started to seep in, and he placed the box in them. Klaus stepped back carefully and pushed his hands into his jean pockets. “Caroline, I wanted to–”

She stepped back and slammed the door in his face so hard the windows rattled. For good measure, she twisted the deadbolt, and it slid home loudly.

“Plan C then,” she heard him mutter quietly, with an odd note of relief in his voice. “Go away, Klaus!” She put her back against the door as if that would add to her defenses. The anger was well and truly riding her, and her hands trembled slightly against the box. Scowling at it, she noted the logo of her favorite bakery. In Paris. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t throw the box out.

[lingshanhermit]

Ling Shan Hermit: This is not the Dharma you require.

I've observed that many who study Tibetan Buddhism often fail to curb their greed, anger, ignorance, and emotional impulses. They assert, "Greed, anger, and ignorance are fundamentally insubstantial. Recognizing the emptiness of thoughts prevents the creation of karma." I earnestly wish those who adopt this viewpoint could truly manifest it, truly grasping and experiencing the emptiness of emotional thoughts. However, should they fail to achieve this (a feat more challenging than landing on the sun, let alone washing a teacup or wiping a table), they risk becoming akin to ordinary people, or worse.

Countless ordinary individuals struggle to restrain their emotions and end up being swept along by them. Unaware of the emptiness of their thoughts and emotions, they drift with them, generating the karma of cyclic existence. Many Tibetan Buddhist practitioners, believing in the emptiness of thought, seem to completely disregard control over their emotions, which can lead them to fare worse than ordinary individuals.

For some, it is unfortunate that they encountered such teachings prematurely. Had they remained unaware of the concept that "thoughts are emptiness," they might have fared better. For this is not the teaching they need. They are in need of teachings like the "Sutra of the Ten Wholesome Ways of Action," which clarifies what is virtuous and what is evil, and what behaviors and emotions they should strive to eliminate. They don't need the highest teachings such as "thoughts are emptiness."

Until you've profoundly experienced that everything is emptiness and void of identifying marks, your thoughts of greed, anger, and ignorance are anything but empty. The repercussions of karma are also entirely real. If you fail to curb your greed, anger, and ignorance, you will accrue immeasurable karma. Ordinary people, at the very least, recognize the wrongness of anger and strive to control their emotions. However, if you believe that thoughts are empty, you may give free rein to your emotions and desires. This is a grave mistake, and unfortunately, one that many have made. May you be spared from such a fate.

Written by Ling Shan Hermit on June 12, 2020.

All rights reserved, no infringement intended. All articles of the Ling Shan Hermit, in both Simplified and Traditional Chinese, English and other languages, are copyrighted to the natural person who owns “Ling Shan Hermit”. Please respect copyright laws. Any media or individual (including but not limited to Internet media, websites, personal spaces, blogs, WeChat public accounts, print media) wishing to use this content must first obtain authorization from Ling Shan Hermit. No modifications to the article are permitted (including the author’s name, title, body of the text, and punctuation). We reserve all legal rights.

灵山居士：这不是你需要的教法

我看到，学习藏传佛教的人经常不去约束自己的贪嗔痴和情绪。他们说：“贪嗔痴都是没有实质的。认识到念头的空性，就不会造业。”我衷心希望这么说的人能真正做到这一点，真的能够了解体验到情绪念头都是空性的。但是假如他们做不到，（体验到这一点并非像洗茶杯擦桌子那么简单，事实上，这件事比登陆太阳还要难）那么他们就会和普通人一样——甚至还会更差。因为很多普通人无法管束情绪，他们被情绪带着走，普通人也不知道念头情绪都是空性的，他们随着念头情绪走，造下生死轮回业。很多学习藏传佛教的人看上去完全不管束自己的情绪，因为他觉得自己知道念头是空性的——这会让他们比普通人更差。对于有些人来说，他们很不幸过早的听闻了这样的教法，如果他们不知道“念头是空性的”还好一点，因为这不是他们需要的教法，他们需要的是《十善业道经》这样的教法。他们需要搞清楚什么是善什么是恶，什么是自己应该断除的行为和情绪。而不是“念头是空性”的这样的最高教法。在你深刻体验到一切都是空性一切都是无标识���前，念头贪嗔痴对你来说都不是空性的。业果也是真实无虚的。如果你不去管束你的贪嗔痴，就会造下无量的业。普通人至少还知道生气是不好的，还会努力控制情绪，但是如果你觉的念头是空性的，你就会放飞你的情绪贪嗔痴。这是很糟糕的事，这也是发生在很多人身上的事。但愿这件事不会发生在你身上。

灵山居士写于2020 6 12

[duhragonball]

Jaco the Galactic Patrolman Ch.1-5

After the premiere of Battle of Gods, and the crossover appearance of DBZ characters in Toriko and One Piece, Akira Toriyama published a new manga, entitled Jaco the Galactic Patrolman.  The series ran in Weekly Shonen Jump from July to October 2013.

It’s weird, because 2013 wasn’t even that long ago, but it feels like a different era to me, at least in terms of how I consumed anime and manga.  At the time, I was interested in the new Jaco series, but I was also resigned to the fact that it would be years before I could read it.  As it was, I managed to snag a fansub of the Battle of Gods movie around that time, as the DVD was released in Japan in late ‘13, but the movie wouldn’t reach the U.S. until the following year.

Since then, new Dragon Ball movies have premiered in the U.S. within months of the Japanese release, and the delay seems to get shorter each time.  A lot of new anime, including Dragon Ball Super, has been simulcast on Japanese television and Crunchyroll. 

Also, scanlations for new manga seem to be a lot easier to find than they used to be.  I read all of Jojolion through a website dedicated to providing translations of current manga titles, and the only reason I’m not reading JoJoLands right now is because I wanted to wait a while and let a few chapters build up before I start. 

The idea that I would have to wait for a proper English language version of a new release had become so alien to me that it seemed genuinely frustrating that Stone Ocean was exclusive to Netflix, and we all had to wait for episodes to be debuted in batches across 2022.  But back in the early 2000′s, that’s how it was for everything.

Anyway, I wasn’t too concerned with Jaco as a character, but then he showed up in Resurrection F, and like, a bunch of episode of Dragon Ball Super, so I kind of felt like I had missed out on something.  But I never felt too motivated to sit down and read this thing, even after it became available in English.  But that’s what the 2023 Dragon Ball Apocrypha Liveblog is for, folks.  I made a list of all the stuff I hadn’t gotten around to checking out, and now I’m finally getting to it. 

Chapter 1. Jaco is on his way to Earth for a mission, when he accidentally collides with the moon and damages his ship.  He crashes in the ocean, and has to carry his ship ashore onto an island.  There, he meets the island’s sole inhabitant, Professor Tokunoshin Omori, who gives him food and shelter while he tries to repair Jaco’s ship.

Over the course of the story, Jaco tosses out tidbits of outer space lore.  For example, he knows all about Earth because the Galactic Patrol has sent robots disguised as insects to gather information.  Jaco learned all Earth languages thanks to a technology that uploads the information into his brain.  Why doesn’t he possess the knowledge to fix his own spaceship?  Because he skipped that lesson.

Omori is a scientist, and back in the day the island was a government research facility working on developing a time machine.  Then one day there was a terrible accident which killed Omori’s wife.  After the government pulled up stakes, he stayed behind, living in isolation near his wife’s grave.   He asks Jaco if they have time machines in space, and Jaco says there’s no such thing, because it’s extremely dangerous to manipulate time, and so it’s expressly forbidden in intergalactic law.  

Omori mostly wants Jaco out of his hair, because he’s a misanthrope who prefers living alone. He still cares, though, and the only reason he didn’t take his boat out to rescue Jaco was because of a monstrous shark that terrorizes the surrounding waters after sunset.  But the shark gave Jaco no trouble at all when he splashed down, and later he goes back out to kill it to repay Omori’s hospitality. 

Throughout this chapter, there’s news coverage of an Earthling rocket launch called Twinkle 8, and there’s going to be a pop idol on board.  Omori finds the entire thing to be crass and absurd, just like everything else about humanity. 

Omori’s attitude leads Jaco to question the purpose of his mission.  He was sent to Earth to intercept an alien invader, but since Omori has such a low opinion of his own kind, then maybe the Earth isn’t worth saving after all. 

Fortunately, Jaco has a device which will eradicate all intelligent life from the planet.  When activated, it will release a deadly virus.  I like how Omori’s bitterness turns to dread here.  It was easy for him to complain about the world around him, because he never dreamed he would meet someone capable of destroying it without a second thought. 

Each chapter ends with a character profile.  I won’t show them all, but I’m mostly interested in this one because it has Jaco’s full name. 

Chapter 2.  Omori takes a look at Jaco’s ship, and they continue to talk.  He’s surprised by Jaco’s strength, considering his small size, and Jaco defensively says he’s the third tallest of the 38 Galactic Patrollers.  How can they maintain peace in the galaxy with only 38 Patrollers?  Jaco says there aren’t a lot of planets with intelligent life. 

Then a ship arrives on the island.  Jaco spot it from very far away, and he moves out of sight when its passengers disembark to speak with Omori, but he still hears their entire conversation, because Jaco has super-hearing too. 

Basically, they’re from the government, and they want Omori to leave the island, so they can turn it into a resort or something.  Omori is just squatting here, so he has no legal claim to the place.  He pleads with them to reconsider, reminding him that his wife’s grave is here, but they won’t listen.  Jaco waits for the ship to leave before coming out of hiding.  He extends his sympathies...

But he also tells Omori that he spotted an experimental time machine in a secluded spot on the island.  Omori admits that he’s been working on it ever since the accident.  His goal is to use the machine to save his wife and assistants from the accident that killed them.  But he says it doesn’t work.  The best it can do is slow the passage of time to a near-standstill, and it only works for one person.  Jaco decides he can let that slide.

He also throws a rock at the departing ship, and the chapter ends with the people on board using a life raft, since Jaco’s throw was powerful enough to sink the ship.

Chapter 3.  Jaco continues to insist that he is a Super Elite, because the Galactic Patrol is a small organization under the direct supervision of the Galactic King.  Jaco was one of nine people to apply for a spot on the team, and he was also one of the five people chosen.  Omori isn’t very impressed.

I guess that sums up the flavor of humor with Jaco.  He’s got all these super powers and advanced technology, and Omori is sort of impressed, but not as much as you would expect.  Jaco’s got all the resources of an advanced civilization, but he still flew his ship into the moon and he blew off the lesson on spaceship repair.  It’s impossible to tell if the Galactic Patrol should be taken seriously or not.

Omori has now studied Jaco’s ship long enough that he thinks he understands the general principle of its operation, and it all depends upon this unknown substance in the engine.  A laser is supposed to hit it, which produces enough power to fly the ship, but it was damaged in the crash, and it will have to be replaced.  So Omori first has to identify the material and then find out if there’s any of it on Earth.  So while Jaco waits, he watches more media coverage of the upcoming Twinkle 8 launch.  This feels kind of important, although it’s unclear how this could possibly matter to anything. 

Finally, Omori discovers that the unknown material in Jaco’s ship is available on Earth.  The problem is that it’s called “Sky Gold,” a precious metal that costs 76 million yen for the amount needed to resupply Jaco’s ship. 

I like how Jaco’s first reaction to this news is that he’ll have to do part-time jobs to earn the money, like that’s going to be the setup for the true premise of this comic.  I mean, it could have been.  I could see that being a hit.  But Omori’s like “What the hell are you talking about?” 

Anyway, the good news is that Jaco only needs about 19 million yen’s worth of Sky Gold to make it back to his headquarters.  Oh, right, I should point out that his communications systems were also damaged in the crash, so he can’t send out a distress signal. 

Chapter 4.  Jaco and Omori don’t know what to do about the Sky Gold problem, but in the meantime, Omori needs to sail to the mainland to buy more food.  Jaco can only eat milk and cheese, and he just drank the last of the milk, so he’ll need more.  Jaco expresses an interest in the city, so Omori reluctantly agrees to bring him along.

The problem is that Jaco keeps making a spectacle of himself whenever he sees a crime in the city. 

Omori buys some peanuts and Jaco remarks that in his culture, “peanut” is a word they use for a woman’s left buttock.  Omori is intrigued that Jaco’s species has women, and asks if Jaco has a love interest.  Jaco does not, because he’s a colossal dork. 

Chapter 5: While Omori is buying dairy products for Jaco, Jaco wanders off and notices another crime in progress.  This time he sees a bunch of jerks pushing around a teenage girl.  I don’t know if they’re a gang or what, but I like the whole theme of them being dressed up like different soldiers.  The one guy’s got Roman soldier gear, and there’s a Medieval knight with a gun and some sort of samurai, I guess. 

A lot of folks in East City are dressed in weird costumes like this.  It seems to be part of the local culture, and I guess that might explain why Tights looks like some sort of hippie.

So Jaco sees this happening and he leaps to the rescue.

Seriously, I just really dig all these costumes.  See, this is what sets Toriyama apart from all the wannabes.  You or I could go “Uhhh, how about a Super Saiyan 5!  Or maybe Frieza and Cooler fuse and become Coolza!”  Meanwhile, Toriyama actually comes up with genuinely new ideas. 

I mean, the action in this story is pretty similar to that of his other works, but it’s a completely fresh direction.  Jaco is super-strong like Arale and Goku, but he’s an alien who needs to keep a low profile, and his commitment to justice overrides his better judgement.   

 So now Omori is horrified, because this time Jaco’s attracted more attention than they can possibly avoid, and they have to hide from the authorities.  But just as they worry about what to do next, Tights offers to help...

So this is off to a promising start. The stakes are a lot lower than what we see in Dragon Ball, but it’s nice to read a smaller, slower story.   The first three chapters are kind of dull, but a nice, relaxing dull that you don’t mind at all. 

So far, Professor Omori is what makes this for me.  I like his bitter attitude, and how he uses it to mask his obvious grief.  And I think I’d like Tights too, but we really haven’t gotten to know her yet, so I’ll reserve judgement until next time. 

[blue-sunflower-bee]

Life outside the parable

Like I mentioned in previous posts, the figurines ending made me think of another theory. This is gonna be a long post I guess so the whole thing will be under the cut

While some fans made Normalverse AUs where Stanley and The Narrator were normal humans that lived outside the parable, or escaped the parable together and then lived a normal life, I had a different thing in mind.

What if Stanley and Narrator indeed were normal human beings:

Stanley a normal office worker that loved to work in his own garden and Narrator being an author whose special hobby was programming little things like websites/apps etc? And he was so passionate about it, even dreamed to develop a whole game one day... But he was skeptical. Was he good enough? Should he really risk it? What if the critics would all be negative? Luckily, Stanley was there to encourage him and practically make the decisions for him.

"I was passionate, I was skeptical. I weighed each devision with profound thoughtfulness. And then somewhere along the way, I stopped making decisions. I became lazy. And I came up with- well... A character named Stanley to do my thinking for me."

What if they lived a perfectly normal life together, you may choose if they lived as romantic partners, roommates or best friends...

But what if one day Stanley grew ill and died, left the Narrator behind, who felt like he was drowning in loneliness and grief?

"Why did I invent Stanley? Was I lonely? Yes, perhaps that's it. Perhaps I needed to imagine I had companionship."

But he still had his project, sth Stanley had encouraged him to actually implement. And so he did. He put a lot of effort into it, a lot of his time to distract himself from his grief and pain..and then the thought came to him... Why not honor Stanley and his impact and make him a character in the game?

A little NPC which he could built after the real Stanley...but the more time he spend to create the model of his Stanley, the more he thought...

Why not make his Stanley the protagonist? Who needed Mariella, Employee 432 or the Curator?

His Stanley deserved to be the main character in his game, without him it wouldn't even exist...

And suddenly, this wasn't a game about a woman called Mariella anymore, it become the story of a man named Stanley, it wasn't a game for the public anymore, it became his own private game.

His chance to spend have some more time with his Stanley...

And he loved his protagonist, he really did, even tho he let him go through hell in some endings...but wasn't that only fair after Stanley had been so cruel, enough to leave him alone so early?

"And Stanley really did make for a wonderful companion. Even if he was a fiction."

He was able to lie to himself for the longest time. That this companion was enough. That Stanley was still there... Didn't even visit his grave, cause to him, it didn't exist.

He lived in that stage of denial for a long time, until the wall of lies got more and more cracks.

It wasn't the same. It missed the warmth, the intimacy of a real companion. It wasn't enough.

And he knew the dependency on his protagonist wasn't healthy. But it was his way of dealing with Stanley's death until he was ready to properly say goodbye.

"But I suppose it's grown old now. I want to think for myself again. I want to go back to how it used to be. Yes, I can be on my own again. I can do it."

And so he did. After he let Stanley have one last run in the office, he deleted the game... And instead of trying to deal with his grief with fictional protagonists...he started writing about it. About his feelings. And he visited Stanley's grave, put some of his favorite flowers there...and talked to him... Even tho he knew no one was there to answer...

Some more fun facts about this AU:

In this AU, Stanley had a dog he had called Bucket. Narrator had challenged him to give him a ridiculous name, and well... The dog was a gift from Narrator cause Stanley was struggling with panic attacks and he thought the dog may have a calming effect. And it did

They have a little garden with a lemon tree and Stanley almost planted all the flowers himself. He jokingly called it the memory zone cause the Narrator used to sit there and flip through old photo albums or book scripts, usually becoming quite sentimental.

The Narrator's real name is Nathan, but during the time he was developing the Stanley Parable, he got so used to referring to himself as The Narrator that he had almost forgotten it or barely uses it.

I hope you don't hate me because 9f the angst lol

[theboysfromaustin]

May 22, 2004

Kazuo flinched as the door opened.  He didn't know where his dad had been and quite frankly, he didn't want to know.  Probably drinking or being a creep at a porn shop.  He had to talk to him, an activity he loathed, but it was…

Important.

Kenjiro side-eyed him, “What's your problem?  What did you do now, you little shit?” “Ian Gabriel called.” Kenjiro froze - that was a name he hadn't heard in years, and not one he wanted to hear.  It was that lawyer.  The one that his Nanami had been so close to.  That horribly fruity faggot fuck.  “The fuck does that animal want?” Okay, Kazuo knew there was some history between the two, but he didn't know exactly what, “Grandpa Kensuke died.”

A malicious grin spread over Kenjiro’s face, “Good!  Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.” “The funeral’s in two days.” “As much as I'd like to piss on his grave, I can't go with this,” he held up his oxygen machine, then studied Kazuo,

“Can you go retrieve whatever he left without fucking it up?”

“Y-yes…sir…” Kazuo stammered.  “Good.  I'll book you a flight for tomorrow.  Call when everything's sorted.” “Mr. Gabriel said he could pick me up.” “Watch out for that one,” Kenjiro growled, “Don't turn your back on him.” “Why?” Kazuo had looked up the law firm now that he knew the man’s full name.  

Ian Gabriel looked very kind, and it had put a name to the painting that hung on his wall - a painting his mother had done.  “Lawyers are stupid, vicious, money-hungry monsters.  And Ian Gabriel is something worse than that.  He's a filthy queer, so really don't turn your back on him unless you want his cock up your ass.”

Kazuo flushed red, looking away.

Oh no, that would be awful, he thought sarcastically.  “At least the bastard paid your grandfather well, so there should be a fat check.” Kazuo watched his father stalk away, pulling cigarettes out of his pocket.  He pulled one out, lit it, and sat at his computer, typing away.  Kazuo stayed where he was, waiting to be dismissed.  Kenjiro ignored him as he booked the flight, printing the pass on the ancient dot matrix printer, “Here.  Don’t fuck it up.  And here…” He thrust some money into Kazuo’s hand, “Get a taxi, get there early.” “Why?” Kenjiro rolled his eyes, ignoring the fact that his son had never been to an airport, let alone on a plane, “Because 9/11 fucked it up.  Get there early, get on the plane, get the money, come back.”

“O-okay…” Kazuo put it into his wallet with the pass, “Thanks.” “Hm,” Kenjiro eyed him suspiciously, then went back to his computer.  Kazuo scuttled to his room, setting his clock.  He sat down at his computer, unlocking it, staring at the website displayed.  His heart fluttered, Ian….Gabriel….grandpa Kesnuke’s attorney friend….his gay attorney friend.  Who, maybe….Kazuo shook his head, sighing, “Man, if he’s that smart, and that successful…why would he want someone like me?  A snotty little punk?” His shoulders slumped, “If he is single, he can do better than me…” Kazuo leaned on his elbow, “At least I can escape Chicago…” He’d quit his job at the bar a week ago, hadn’t told his did, wasn’t going to tell his dad because…yeah.

He wasn’t coming back.  He wasn’t going to throw himself at the mercy of Mr. Gabriel, either…unless he offered help.  At this point in life, he was afraid of asking for help - hadn’t worked out at all over the past 15 years.  Kazuo just hoped they’d form some sort of gay bond and things would just…work out.  He shook his head, relocking the computer, and slumped into bed.  He had a big day tomorrow, and hopefully…

Things were gonna go his way.

[trainsandcoffee]

05/05/2024 - Fluctuating.

Coupled with the beers that I had last night and no medication for two days now, I felt even more foggy when I woke up this morning. I had slept for nearly twelve hours, but still felt like I could sleep more given the opportunity.

Everything looked blurry today, with or without my glasses on. I felt dazed and dizzy all day, like I was going through an out of body experience, and not the normal out of body experience I get when I’m off my meds. It was almost like it was heightened somehow, but I was more focussed than ever when Keelan and I were hooking the trailer up together - besides the whole backing the truck up into the trailer thing, I could probably hook up and unhook the trailer all by myself if I wanted to. Come time for food, chinese since we both felt lazy once we got home, I felt so nauseous that even the smell of my favorite wor wonton soup nearly made me vomit, and I started thinking about how my period was more than a week off at this point, if not two. It made me nervous, happy, then nervous again. If I was actually pregnant, I would definitely think more about going back to the office.

This is what led me to start thinking about him more, and that triggered almost a gag reflex, becuase I only thought about him when I realized I would have access to private data again - this mindset disgusts me SO MUCH. I hadn’t had the opportunity to sit with my feelings since Thursday or Friday, ever since the discovery I made, but he dotted my thoughts occasionally over the weekend - I wondered if he ever went out camping, since there was never any trailer in his driveway other than the utility trailer, but then again, maybe he had a set up like Ben, or some similar concept, with the rooftop tent on top of a utility trailer concept, like a tent trailer but much more complicated. Maybe he just straight up used a tent, or just didn’t camp at all. Who knows? I definitely don’t.

Especially after looking at the yearbook photos last week, I think that’s all I want from him - an idea of what it was like back in the day for him. I did a further dive in the BCRDH website and found a locomotive that had run through a pile of snow, if not a whole avalanche, in Three Valley Gap back in 1985/6/7, and I wondered if that was something he had experienced. Had he been on the train or known someone who had been on the train? It’s not as though the train was overly damaged, so unlikely anyone had died or been injured even.

But regardless, how was it growing up with five siblings? Being a family of eight? What about graduating in 1982? Whatever happened to his aspiration to be a lineman? Why didn’t that ever happen? What got him into the railway, other than John? I can only assume that was the case, since his sen date was 1985 - maybe he tried the lineman thing but it didn’t jive right with him. But what is life ACTUALLY like being on call 24/7 for 30+ years? How did he live his life outside of work? Why was he driving in/through/to Field that one day in his truck? It WAS his truck. The license plate matched. I never got the chance to see if it was actually him or not. Maybe it was her? Someone else borrowing the truck?

There’s so much more I want to know about him, and I can’t quite comprehend why, but I just don’t want to find it all out at his funeral once he’s gone. It makes me feel like life is nothing but a ticking time bomb, and there’s this black cloud hanging about me, ready to burst into this giant rainstorm when it actually happens. I wish I could prepare Keelan for that day, but I don’t even know how to talk about him to Keelan, let alone vaugley explain how my emotions are going to be all out of whack and that I won’t be responsible for the actions I take during that time.

How would I even begin to tell Keelan ANYTHING about him, or why he’s constantly in the back of my mind? Part of me wants to take this secret to the grave because of how humiliating it is, and the only person I have ever mentioned any of it to is Megan, the one wednesday in 2019 that I was wine-drunk in my shower and spilling out all of my feelings and secrets to her - how I had a job opportunity in Revelstoke, how I just had to figure out a way to leave Kelby, then I would be free to do whatever I pleased. I don’t even know if she remembers me talking about him - part of me wants to ask, another part of me doesn’t even want to jiggle that memory in her brain just in case she DOES.

I don’t know why I took this voice recording in August of 2016, but on days like this, I sure am thankful that I did. I find comfort in the sound of his voice, even just talking about nothing but coffee creamer, and even if it does ultimately make me cry. I would give anything to turn back time and make our friendship work somehow, longer, better, something more than it is now.

My heart is breaking, and my brain doesn’t know how to mend it. I don’t think it ever will be mended.

[moonlightperseus]

I believe that you think that but recently I was talking to a coworker and she said "lots of people really like whales." and I said "I don't like whales in a normal person way." And she agreed immediately. We'd worked like one full shift together before, and I don't work around anything to do with marine anything.

I THINK though I could be wrong, you're thinking of the shark episode? There's a case where a shark in an aquarium vomits up an arm and they're like "AHA, foul play afoot! Someone killed this man and fed him to the shark!" I haven't seen the really early seasons though so that could be a different thing. The "Mysterious death" I was referencing really isn't so mysterious, a man broke into seaworld, severely intoxicated, and either climbed into or fell into the orca tank- where at the time, Tilikum was housed. Tilikum who over his life span killed three people (There's only four reported deaths by killer whales in captivity and none in the wild), this man being his second victim, I believe. And look okay that is EXACTLY what I was looking into, I went to the seaworld website to find out the names of the orcas currently held there so I could google them on a third party website to find out if they have histories of aggression or acting out to determine if I'm getting a buddy or a grave stone. None of them had aggressive incidents listed, a couple actively stated that there were none, so that's a good sign. Bad signs, four out of the five are kids of Tilly's and while I love Tilikum and really respect him for what he did for killer whale rights, I am a little hesitant with those genetics. Another bad sign: Free Willy taught me that orcas like their tongues scratched and I'm not quite sure I can trust myself to not give them tongue pets if they come see me. I also I can tell you right now I would NOT get past the orca tank, you and me could be like spies on a super important mission and you'd have to like turn around and be like "What are you doing we need the FILES." And I'd be like "Look this is clearly a girl I think it's Katina isn't she cute? Judging by the eyepatch shape-" And then you'd realize that you should just finish the mission alone honestly, you probably don't have to kill me to keep me quiet, I'm probably dumb enough to let Katina do it. (I'm going to refrain from apologizing for all of *that* and you can just remember that you said I could infodump and didn't specify if there were restrictions)

That makes sense! I did have quite a bit of access just because like my sister was into them, my brother was. So we all watched the movies. I never watched agents of Shield (or even tried) but I DID watch the first season of Agent Carter and I DID find that enjoyable. Granted I will do anything for Peggy Carter on account of she could step on me.

I'm so sorry for you not having a Dollarama and also I know I already just straight up said I was Canadian but I feel a little outed for being Canadian. Anyway yeah it's not like a normal thing but the way Dollarama's work is they just like sell overstock of shit for cheap. I once bought a 24 pack of Prismacolor premier colored pencils WITH a bunch of bonus stuff for less than 4$. I've also, more recently, bought a deluxe hardcover Justice League comic from there for 4$. Prices went up so the comics are all 5$ now but when you compare that to full price (30 if you're lucky closer to 40/50$ for most here) it's banger. And I completely get that, like I said I don't even go alone to the one near me but it terrifies me. Last time I just stayed by my brother (buying pokemon cards) and didn't look at the comics at all, and another time I looked at them briefly because he was taking a long time and felt like everyone knew I don't even LIKE comics or nerd stuff and I was just there as a little sister and I had no right to be there (I quickly took back my place at my brother's side). Hopefully you can swing it sometime <3

Like when they branch off completely? Like big things like Heroes in Crisis (idk how good of a reference that is I think it's like all retconned now but) Where they had the main event in one series but that trickled down into individual comics? Or like zero year? I don't know how much I can elaborate on that one but like I read the batwoman one exclusively because it was in the New 52 run of Batwoman but now I have the volume of all the stories on my shelf?

I DO think that the arrowverse shows are better if you don't know the comics so that makes sense, and trust me I'm so good at attaching myself to things I get it. I LIKED supergirl a) couldn't tell what wasn't real, I've never read a supergirl comic in my life. B) Chyler Leigh- most specfically, Chyler Leigh with short hair, a gun, and a hint of lesbianism. Because I liked Lexi grey in Greys Anatomy but it hits different when they can fight well. But you are allowed to like things! I like my own little parts of it if I learn how to watch TV. That's all completely fair!!

I would like to! I've always liked the way they look! I just need to learn how to be a person again first and I do not know how to be a person at ALL right now. That WOULD be why I said don't/didn't, I assumed you might say that but didn't want to be presumptious.

It depends for me. A) sometimes my hobbies just take a break, like I'll just,,, not like painting anymore and I have to wait for it to wear off before I can paint again. Or writing won't work. Reading will be awful and I have no idea why. B) reading feels like a waste of time? I have three (part time) Jobs so a lot of time if I have downtime my brain is like EW you're gonna waste that on a book? And yes, because I like? Books? I also like reading is such a love/ hate relationship for so many people. Both my mother and sister used to love reading and now they can't pick up a book. And last winter I had this fun little thing called my ocd decided that books were making me sick and I couldn't read them anymore without starting to feel incredibly ill because the brain is a bitch. I can read again though! (Currently reading a 1979 book about a killer killer whale and I am a little bit fact checking it mentally) I hope you can also read again soon and also pick a fucked little Weirdo book!

I have some of the like BOO hollow line they put out but that's it- and the pin.

That's fair that's exactly what my collection looks like you're valid for that.

That's completely fair! And no rush or pressure of course!! And valid, I read the new issue last night, I found out it was out because I routinely just scroll "most recent" in the black canary tag and then proceeded to actually remember I wanted to read it at like 3am and read it then.

One thing about your girl? I love a good shark, so I am ALL for the megalodons that aren't going to get harmed at all they are all good polite little boys they will be fine (I need them to be fine I'm 80 pages into the book I mentioned earlier and 4 orcas have already died the megalodons will behave and leave them alone. I need this). I was a little less intrigued this time but not for like valid reasons- I didn't not enjoy it I think it's just that most off the issue was explaining sci-fi stuff and I was frothing at the mouth in the corner like "Sin sin sin sin sin sin sin sin". I'm definitely excited for the next issue still, I LOVED Sin being a pokemon fan that goes hard. I still don't like the relationship between Harley and Dinah, I know it makes perfect sense and I'm not mad mad about it but I'm just so biased from their injustice relationship (And even the Harley Quinn and the birds of prey comic) It's always a little disappointing when they don't get along perfectly. And it made me want to get back into writing black canary fics/ finish the couple I have in my drafts (I didn't but it DID get me to return to one). Please tell me what YOU thought because it sounds like YOUR brain did more thinking then mine.

I can't actually see the length of this but I know that I can't shut up so sorry about that, don't worry about speedy replies I understand, and uh, goodnight, good morning, bonsoir, bonne nuit, bonne journee. y'know the vibes <<3

okay before i actually respond to the content of this ask i have to say that i cracked open my physical bombshells copies tonight and um boy howdy i am so gay and also i forgot so many details that are just so delightful, such as; barbara!batgirl in bombshells continuity is a full fucking vampire and there is a panel of her giving mouth to mouth to dinah. bombshells has its own suicide squad of sorts thats made up of ravager (rose wilson) who is like a pirate, vampire barbara, enchantress in a cute witch's hat, killer croc and frankie charles who i am not as familiar with outside of bombshells but google says she was barbara's roommate at one point(i think i read the comic its referencing ive just got horrible memory). zatanna and john kind of adopt raven. kara has three moms from krypton and one is kind of evil. superman and power girl become circus performers. mera was diana's first kiss. and oh yeah one detail i think you might especially like. big barda is in this and she is in a wlw relationship with doctor light. anyways i just really love this series sorry i had to ramble for a minute

(here’s a somewhat shitty pic of barda and doctor light as a treat for you)

(also i think i might need to look more into doctor light her powers seem so cool)

you are so valid for being unnormal about whales btw. everyone should be a little over invested in an animal species in my opinion. it should be a universal human experience.

and yeah it WAS the shark episode i was thinking of. i must’ve blended it with memories of when i was learning about the seaworld Horrors (i’ve always found dolphins super cool and whales are adjacent to that. ((i did unfortunately go to seaworld when i was a real little kid BUT i was like. 6. i didn’t know of the atrocities then. and i remember like none of it except for a dog show that we saw there??)) but more recently ((god. fucking seven years ago.)) i went to dolphin research in the florida keys and i gotta say that was SUCH a cool experience. 10/10 would recommend. if i had the money and time i would so go back ((one day i will. on god i will go back one day.))) but yeah i think you are so valid for your love of whales, and frankly if you were to get killed by a whale i would not thinking it was because of stupidity but instead because that’s the literal hill you decided to die on and goddamn you absolutely knew what you were doing. (this is not me encouraging death by whale btw. please do not do that it does sound quite painful and i would miss getting messages from you)

if we were spies on a secret mission and you got distracted by the whales and stray behind i would simply circle back and happily listen to cool whale facts. maybe we should retire from the spy life and instead become animal activists. (there are no limits or restrictions! i love being infodumped at tbh like it’s so cool when people are very passionate about things((esp when it’s animals bc i love animals))and i love being included in that passion!!)

agents of shield was such a mess i wouldn’t recommend it but also i have a special place in my heart for it. much like arrowverse. (though i think about aos WAY less) and god YEAH peggy carter. when she beats people up with everyday objects >>>>>>>>

also jeez is that 30-50 for a single issue of a comic or for like a volume?? that’s so expensive i’m so sorry 😭 i think i got the bombshells volumes i have for like. <15USD each from amazon (i know amazon big corporation and bad however it is so goddamn convenient.) i’m glad you have somewhere where you can find comics for cheaper, even if it is a bit of a toss up on what youll find! i’ll have to keep in mind to check out a dollarama if i ever go to canada.

i’m spending my days off word for the majority of october going back to my parents to help with them moving & for a bachelorette party but i think when i have a day off where i am not making a 3(soon to be 2!) hour drive back to my parents i’ll try to force myself to go check out one of the comic book shops around me.

also idk how to properly describe it but like. hmm lemme see if i can get a screenshot of what i mean. when i was reading batgirl one of the overarching plots was war games which like. spanned over several individual issues of different series, aha this one is a literal check list. but like i’m not going to individually seal out all these individual issues they should just make a war games booklet or smth. (i still probably wouldn’t read war games but it was just an example i had recently from reading batgirl 2000)

yeah i do think supergirl was a lot of fun, especially like season 1 pre the move to the cw (though i do love that s2 embraced lesbian alex so true) but like the s1 supergirl/flash crossover is SOOO dear to me. also much like most of my dc experience i hadnt read any supergirl comics prior to watching the show but i will say i have read some after having seen the show and i did really enjoy them. the red daughter of kyrpton run especially was sooo good. kara becoming a red lantern <33333 i also know i read the supergirl being super run and enjoyed it. honestly supergirl as a character is genuinely pretty fascinating to me and i kinda want to read more of her comics i just cant fully remember which ones i already have read. (also her storyline in bombshells is SOOOOO <333333 shes adoptive sisters with stargirl. she had three moms on krypton. one of said moms turns out to be a little evil..... she kisses girls ((one specifically)) god yeah shes just <33333)

i will try to stop rambling extensively about bombshells (no promises tho) but genuinely if/when you read it PLEASE share your thoughts with me

also okay forgive me if im oversharing here but oh my god i also have ocd and mine also got in the way of my love of reading as it decided that i cannot use libraries or buy used books because they are Contaminated, unfortunately im still struggling with that some, but i made some progress in the last year ive bought my dad & sister some books from a used bookshop (theres this place local to me that lets you shop online and all you have to do is go and pick up the books you bought from their store which helped in making the process easier for me) and i was super proud of myself for being able to do that. having access to the library digitally has been huge for me in terms of reading bc god buying books new is not cheap. but anyways im super happy/proud of you for overcoming and being able to read books again, i know that shit is not easy, so yeah congrats 💕

and yeah i really need to find a good audiobook to listen to especially with how much driving im doing back and forth to my parents this month.

im gonna be honest i dont have a ton of coherent thoughts re the new bop issue other than i thought it was fun. it was cool to see john constantine and his dynamic with dinah was very funny to me. hes not a guy i like seek out but i enjoy seeing him in things when he does pop up (watching legends gave me some love for him). it definitely felt like an issue that was more establishing some stuff which i don’t personally mind but definitely not super noteworthy. though seeing dinah fighting is always a win for me. i’m also a little disappointed by the harley dinah dynamic, i much prefer when their dynamic is more friendly but im gonna hold out hope their dynamic could change in this overtime or at least give us some explanation for why their dynamic is as it is.

okay this reply has taken like. three days so i’m gonna end it here but i think i’m gonna crack open the first injustice issue while i eat my dinner at work so next time i’ll report my thoughts.

hope you are doing well! have a good [insert time of day] as well!

[dishtothedeath]

hellequin, the devil | inigo | verdict react

Fight all you can, and then a little more.

Even that’s not enough— dead, by the margin of one vote.

Somehow, that’s what hurts the worst. Seeing that he was so close to it. In another life, someone else takes the fall and he takes the hands of people he loves and gets out of here. There’s a future at his fingertips that just wasn’t there before. One with love and a warm home, a world that he’s yet to see, thoughts of, growing old, growing old and doing it nicely, without fear of feebleness and fragility. Alfie, his spunky counterpart, his second chief, who plays and punches in the same breath, and Giselle, soft eyes, soft bread, soft heart, the one who welcomes him and comforts him in the same breath.

It was nice, for a time, to believe that was possible. To believe in something more than what he is. A time where he forgot he was Bonbon, and that thing under Bonbon’s skin.

He doesn’t cry, doesn’t blabber, doesn’t even seem to twitch much at the fact he’s going to die. Somber acceptance of someone who’s given it his all and now can only give up. If he closes his eyes, he wonders if down there, in that corner of damnation they’ve sworn themselves to, he could look at Ricci and ask: did I have a fighting chance?

A measure of if only’s.

If only he hadn’t cut a brown wig.

If only hadn’t let Emil walk in.

If only he hadn’t signed the waiver.

If only he hadn’t lost track of those two.

If only he hadn’t gone out that day.

If only he hadn’t let them live.

If only he hadn’t botched that routine.

If only he hadn’t run away to the circus.

If only he hadn’t been born like this.

Bonbon reaches up to take off his hat and throws it at Skull-kun like a bullet.

“Here. Take it. Auction it off on some freak website or something. Somebody’ll get a kick out of it.”

The voice sounds like a stranger’s, at first. Deep and no longer rounded, sans any flourishes and any graces. Plain speech half an octave down with a deep sigh to follow it.

“That’s enough, Giselle, don’t go crying over me.”

Now, to the judges.

“You’re wrong. Bonbon didn’t do any of this, so get his name out of your two-bit-byte mouth. It’s me. I’m responsible for all of it.”

Nose comes off first, gets put on the table by the dish. It’s a makeup wipe from his pocket and a sudsy mess that foams up the layer of his greasepaint armor so he can get rid of it. From there, the removal of ridiculous numbers of ties and bobby pins from the back, hoisting the mass up in a loose knot for the strands to settle naturally. A careful removal of two contacts, one blue, one pink.

What stares back are eyes with no hope and no life. Muddy, brown stones, nestled in a swamp that were a grave digger’s ditch, the color of loss and the color of rot. No luster, no joy in any of it.

You wouldn’t ever think that one guy like this could house two people. Let alone, him and Bonbon, his smiling, stalwart protector.

The look to his right is easy. People he hates, people who’ve hurt him, people he doesn’t quite know and people who don’t know him. He stutters at Giselle, too kind for any of this, and too kind to stab him when he asked for it. Maybe had she been a little sharper, a little crueler, she would see through her dependency on him and how he reveled in it, knew her and used her and yet thoroughly loved her. Knew that he could never fully give what she needed from him, and he could only love her as a girl tells her dolls to, giving what’s needed and what’s asked and never inserting his will through. Destined to fail darling dancers.

There’s Sunako, also too darling, and there’s Haruki, who he knows never forgave him, and his thoughts on the three old timers are plain and evident.

The left look is harder. It’s Man, who he so genuinely considered a friend and in loss a brother, and it’s Castella, who seemed too normal and not eager. 

Then it’s Alfie.

Oh, Alfie, it was all your fault, you came to him first. Why’d you have to open up so easily? Why did he have to be so charming, so funny, that it made him remember a time before this? Why did you swear when he asked in a frenzy, clung on at every opportunity? Why’d you have to make him feel like he wasn’t a monster, even when he was sucking the life out of you?

Fuck, why’d you have to look like Ollie Lou?

Why’d she have to look like Simone, too?

The man behind Bonbon doesn’t look sad, doesn’t look too hurt when Alfie wishes the worst on him. Lord knows he’s endured scathing things before from the mouths of those who mean much to him, and he’d suffer a thousand spit hates to just look at him. Alfie still looks like a dream to him, and he’s happy to sully his hands so Alfie’s own can stay clean. That he could still get out of here and live happy again.

Of course Alfie couldn’t understand. Only man who could is two years dead and surely embarrassed at this sloppy display of a killing. Goodness, Arlecchino, can’t even follow a one-two-dispose-body step!

But he could, in fact, do terrible things for love, and never look back.

“Lying there was the only way I could keep my word, Alfie. One of us was going to get hurt either way,” he says. “Guess they were right that I was masking from the start— but every word I said to you, I meant, and every dream we had, I was serious about. This wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t fail me one bit. Everything I did, that I strove to do, was in pursuit of that tomorrow, and you.“

"I’m not stupid enough to ask for forgiveness, no, I know there’s no forgiving any killing best of all of us, and, and I know I violated every principle you had. But this was the only way forward. I could dedicate this killing to old buried Ringmaster Ricci, or maybe for my own good, but that’s not the truth. I did this because I thought I could. could finally free myself and, finally be honest without, without hurting you. This was so I could lay him to rest and let my heart lay low.”

Shame that didn’t work out.

He turns to Giselle, right hand, his other other half, which really just made him the composite of two people’s wants. Without them, he has no meat, no substance. There’s not a glimmer of regret, only his love, his adoration, his fierce protection. When he sees her anger, her sadness, he knows it’s exactly what he wanted, for someone to feel that strongly about him, and thoroughly believe him. 

“And that’s the same for you, Giselle. Sorry to disappoint, but, you shouldn’t rough your hands on that plate for me. You were too kind to me this whole go around, and I can only hope that, until now, knowing me was good. If you wanted anything, I’d drop my everything to do it, and if there was anywhere you wanted to go, I’d build a way to it. That’s my devotion, total and complete. Nobody’s ever treated me as tenderly as you. Not, not even my own flesh and blood, that’s the truth.”

“But I couldn’t play the part that you wanted me to, not forever. I thought I could find a way to still make you happy, to, grow and become the person that could honestly be that man for you. And so I had to have a shot at this. Have a shot at doing what I came here to.”

He fixes his bowtie for the last time.

“I knew how lucky I was to have the eyes of either of you. Good people, from good stations. You know, folks always thought I was just Ricci’s mouthpiece, but that was my assumption to win on. I’m not stupid. I know how much I mattered to you and how much you both meant to me, and I was smart enough to come up with this plan, not him, not Ricci. It was me, I wanted to keep you two with me that badly. If I could finally put that bow on the circus, then, I could grow to be less selfish, more kind, satisfy you. I wanted to be what you two were so more than anything. Earnest, trying people. But you suppose a boy who walks in on the corpse of his torn-up father doesn’t get better from that. Sure doesn’t help when you make him do it again on live TV.” 

The rest, his heart goes out to, but not that much. They’re not interested in who this person beneath is, how his struggle to love always came with the impulse to trap, to hurt. They want to know about Emil. And really, he does too, in these surprising things he’s learned he was capable of in killing them.

“Emil wasn’t the target, and this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go down. Really didn’t want to have to hurt anybody, so, I let it be anybody. Was supposed to be a quick and easy crush. You’d barely feel pain for even an ounce of a second if I did it well enough. I figured whoever walked under it would probably not last that long for an obvious trap, so, they’d have it coming for it to catch up. Shame they were the one to walk in on it, really, anybody else, I could’ve played off being some caught Malwart intern. But they knew what I looked like out of Bonbon, so, if anyone died after, I would’ve stuck out sore.”

Really, throwing that tablet was the big mistake. Emil could’ve texted for help if they had the chance. Funny how things go, funny how heads roll.

“Felt awful when I saw they lived through the crush. Think I was just on so much adrenaline, and I knew they wouldn’t live anyways, and I knew I couldn’t back out, so. I just hit as hard as I could for them to have it at least be quick. Went too far, popped his head off. Went, Jesus, Bonbon, what the hell have you done? Too late for the big J-man to pitch in, but, he never listened to me anyways, so I suppose now wasn’t a great time.”

“Looked at myself like a monster afterwards, but, since I’m dying, I’ll be honest— it felt good in the moment. Putting somebody vulnerable under you like that, just, knowing they can’t do anything back. Watching things twitch and squirm. Like watching somebody tumble down the stairs, rhythm of each bang as they fall in a song. Cruel, I don’t argue that, undeserved, yeah. But I only regret how sloppy and slow it was, not that I went through with it. Emil meant well, they had a hard life. Would’ve hoped it was someone more deserving. Someone who gets to know how much I’ve been suffering with a bit of hard experience.”

“But, it’d been done. Figured I was halfway to hell, so, might as well go full throttle. I set it up like a show, head on a cake, gave the people what they want. Those outbursts earlier already ruined me with the cameras. Wasn’t having much more of a clowning career after this anyways. Funny, funny. Life never did care to let me have what I want, did it?”

Something about this moment is freeing, even. Light as he confesses every last sin, at last lets Inigo go free in all his bleak blackness. A great catharsis in wretched transformation. For a moment, he understands Yukari— there’s some pleasure in watching everyone quiver in fear, loathing, disgust. Becoming some wholly evil thing feels righteous.

“Motives, now. Ricci wasn’t the one who convinced me. He never really was as good at tricking people as he thought. No, I’d convinced myself of something bigger before I met any of you. See, the twenty five thousand dollars, as much as I’d like, was never going to fund rebuilding the circus. Just not enough, not enough. Even if it was, I wasn’t a man like Ricci, I couldn’t run that ship, couldn’t feed the demon he’d accompanied. No, after he got murdered, after they fingerprinted me, after everybody left me to dry, after Marco started looking at me like a gross thing, my want was simple. I wanted to find my old friends, Ollie Lou and Simone— you might know them as Hardy Brandy and Ginny Rum Eclair, if you were a fan of mine— and pay them a visit—”

He’s fantasized about that moment for years, so secure in his eyes that it seemed like an inevitability rather than a gross delusion. It’s why he suggested Alfie they backpack through Europe, where his contacts last reported they’d gone, why he could entertain running away with Giselle, but only running to their hovel, toward.

Sometimes, the purest joy is in having the chance to show mercy, and knowing he’s not going to give it.

“—so I could stick an axe between each of their eyes.”

Inigo’d ask who did the cutting. Other one dies first, so the doer can see it with their own eyes, weep over their body. When he’s tired of their sniveling, smack, done. A trio of friends becomes one in two good cuts and two less lives.

It’s in this moment it becomes self evident that those holes that are Inigo’s eyes are not mud and saltwater. They’re coals, embers of an old hate that’s refused to die and fossilized. Coals, at any second, ready to relight and exact that divine vengeance.

“They killed him, after all. Cops said they couldn’t’ve, let them go, but I know they eloped out from under him. Left their Bonbon behind and everything. So I’d return the favor. It’d be done, all of it, all of us. That’s all I ever wanted to do. Kill them, disappear, finish it off, leave Ricci happy. Last chapter in a book nobody should’ve read. And to do that, I have to get out of here, have to win the money, do it all, so I kill someone, come back, get everybody off scot. Close, huh? I was just one vote away from that. Honestly? I’m not even mad. That’s kind of hilarious.”

"But let’s be clear what I’m dying for.”

Not in a laughing sort of way, but the bitter slew of cough grounds, irony. So close, so far.

Inigo smiles, not the least bit of remorse.

“If I’m guilty, my only crime was loving people too strong, too much, on all counts. Nothing more, nothing else.“

[poem-today]

A poem by C. D. Wright

Our Dust

I am your ancestor. You know next to nothing about me. There is no reason for you to imagine the rooms I occupied or my heavy hair. Nor the faint vinegar smell of me. Or the rubbered damp of Forrest and I coupling on the landing on route to our detached day.

You didn’t know my weariness, error, incapacity. I was the poet of shadow work and towns with quarter-inch phone books, of failed roadside zoos. The poet of yard eggs and sharpening shops, jobs at the weapons plant and the Maybelline factory on the penitentiary road.

A poet of spiderwort and jacks-in-the pulpit, hollyhocks against the toolshed. An unsmiling dark blond. The one with the trowel in her handbag. I dug up protected and private things. That sort, I was. My graves went undecorated and my churches abandoned. This wasn’t planned, but practice.

I was the poet of shorttailed cats and yellow line paint. Of satellite dishes and Peterbilt trucks. Red Man Chewing Tobacco, Triple Hit Creme Soda. Also of dirt daubers, nightcrawlers, martin houses, honey, and whetstones from the Novaculite Uplift. What remained of The Uplift.

I had registered dogs 4 sale, rocks, dung and straw. I was a poet of hummingbird hives along with redheaded stepbrothers. The poet of good walking shoes—a necessity in vernacular parts—and push mowers. The rumor that I was once seen sleeping in a refrigerator box is false (he was a brother who hated me). Nor was I the one lunching at the Governor’s mansion.

I didn’t work off a grid. Or prime the surface if I could get off without it. I made simple music out of sticks and string. On side B of me, experimental guitar, night repairs and suppers such as this. You could count on me to make a bad situation worse like putting liquid make-up over a passion mark.

I never raised your rent. Or anyone else’s by God. Never said I loved you. The future gave me chills. I used the medium to say: Arise arise and come together. Free your children. Come on everybody. Let’s start with Baltimore.

Believe me I am not being modest when I admit my life doesn’t bear repeating. I agreed to be the poet of one life, one death alone. I have seen myself in the black car. I have seen the retreat of the black car.

C. D. Wright (1949-2016)

Listen to C. D. Wright read her poem.

More poems by C. D. Wright are available on her website.