#like even though. That scene has been memed to death it still felt very uncomfortable to sit through

[pixpirs]

i keep talking about it on xitter but seeing end of eva in theaters was genuinely amazing, like the sound design and the quality...the way that the movie ends and everyone is just There...i used to just like the movie and thought it was a bit overrated, but now i think it's one of my favorite films ever

[jurijurijurious]

Writerly ephemera meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit in this rather intriguing meme!

Find five bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories), post and tag five or more writers to share as well.

Now I know I do write bits of myself and my experiences into my stories, one way or another, I think everyone does, but it doesn’t half put you on the spot when you have to try to remember where you’ve done it!

1) I know that recently I wrote Walsingham passing out at the end of a scene in “Mea Culpa”. The entire description is based on personal experience. I went through a scary few years as a young teen where I would pass out for little to no reason, usually at school where there were lots of people watching to cause me huge embarrassment, which then almost gave me a form of PTSD. I was constantly anxious about fainting, it was not good, and we never found out why it happened. But that’s another story... I still occasionally pass out but it’s usually for a reason, after having a vaccine or blood taken or something, but the whole process of fainting, though horrible, is like an old nemesis to me, uncomfortably familiar. I generally feel intense sickness in my stomach, my vision is puckered increasingly with white dots, my entire body comes out in a sweat, and I hear a high pitched whistle-type noise as I lose consciousness. And so since that is my experience, it became Wals’s too:

His palms sweated, his pulse raced...  He shuddered and emitted another strangled breath, fingers white where he clutched the window sill, body trembling.  He needed rest.  Ursula's voice was becoming distant, the room was swaying like the deck of a ship caught in a storm.  He felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, could hear a high pitched sound in his ears, a siren's wail beckoning him into the abyss.

“I am sorry.  So very sorry,” he whispered, though he knew not exactly who he was addressing.  His own voice now sounded as if it was coming from underwater, far away; he was drowning and could resist no more, slipped where he stood and descended into the open arms of oblivion.

2) This is another Walsibeth example I’m afraid because I haven’t written anything else for about a decade! So... Though the pandemic and my lack of funds has put a temporary hold to my hobby of horse riding, I am a half-capable rider and love tearing across country if opportunity allows on horseback. I can thus write people riding horses (English style, anyway) with a degree of accuracy. So in my smutty one-shot fic “In perpetuum et unum diem” (the one which is mostly a pastiche of the raunchy finale of “The Tudors” season 1, and also an excuse for me to write shameless sex), I began the ficlet with a bit of a horse-race between Bess and Wals to get the blood up (a scene that in itself mirrors Elizabeth’s racing with Raleigh in TGA, I later realised). Though I personally haven’t raced a person on horseback per se, I have done beach rides and also ridden on a horseback safari in Africa where you gallop as a group, and “giving your horse its head” is the order of the day! So a lot of this passage is me:

She turned her head back over her shoulder and caught Francis’ eyes.  His lip quirked slightly at the corner but otherwise there was no change to his countenance.  But that was enough.  Her smile deepend as if to invite him to race her and she turned her head back around, gave her dappled grey mare its head and pressed her calves to its flanks.  And the beast responded, driving its legs harder, faster, into a gallop and flew like a falcon through the trees.

...

As the wind flew in Elizabeth’s face, making her eyes water, a great whoop of exhilaration escaped her.  There was nothing but her and the horse, and the knowledge that her blackguard of a lover galloped behind her.  This was what it should feel like to live, even in tragically brief snippets; to feel the blood in your veins, the air in your chest, and the sun on your face, wild and free.

They then jump a tree trunk which I’d love to say I’d do, and I might, but most of my falls have been from jumping so I’d probably wimp out and go the long way around... ;)

3) Annnd another one from my Walsibeth fic “Mea Culpa”, just because it’s fresh in my mind. When I was driving to work last winter, there was one Sunday morning which had a jaw-droppingly beautiful sunrise. I tried to take a photo of it but could not do it justice. I did find a photo of Lincoln Cathedral on instagram from the same morning though which captured the sky perfectly. It literally looked like the sky was on fire, or something, and I immediately worked this memory into my story! I felt that a sky like that would make the perfect backdrop for a single, forlorn, broken bastard riding his horse in a clear, freezing morning:

There was a strange light in the sky as the sun began to make its ascent.  It turned a deep crimson then lifted to shades of rich amber and gold; this combined with the few grey clouds passing overhead gave it the illusion of a huge fire, as if a great furnace now filled the heavens.  Some might have called it beautiful, others would see a grim omen.

4) I had a look in my dreaded old fic archive, so full of cringe, and I found this from the end of my Doctor Who fic “Choices”, which I reckon I wrote between 2005-2006, possibly finishing it later than that. This scene right at the end (told from the perspective of Rose and the ninth Doctor’s daughter, Hope) is literally my old senior school - the class length, the finish time, the uniform was what I wore, and my history teacher was Mrs. Gaskin, and my mum would be waiting in her car to pick me and my sisters up:

By a quarter-to-three in the afternoon, she was in another History lesson with Mrs. Gaskin, and was spending another forty-five minutes hearing about the Black Death, the plague doctors, and the red crosses that were painted on people’s doors. It was fascinating, but Hope’s concentration wasn’t there. She kept looking out of the window at the school yard, noticing the little details that other days she would take for granted - like the way the trees swayed in the wind, the way a crisp-packet rolled across the concrete, and the pure azure-blue colour of the cloudless sky. Something was afoot but she had no idea what it was, or why she was feeling this way.

The bell rang finally at the end of the lesson, as the clock read three-thirty, and the class disappeared swiftly out of the door. It was home time! The voices of myriads of children echoed and shrilled down the corridors, and desperate feet, eager to get home, pounded down the stairs, making for the exits. White shirts were un-tucked from trouser and skirt hems, blue-and-red ties were loosened from about shirt collars, and black blazers were thrown off and carried over shoulders as the mass of pupils took flight.

Hope, however, took things slowly, almost as if she might never see them again, picking up on every smile, every individual laugh, and every joke pulled on every unsuspecting victim. She waved goodbye to friends, hitched her backpack over her shoulder, and made her way out of the school gates toward the spot where her mum or Uncle Jack would usually be waiting to pick her up. As she turned the corner onto Petunia Grove, though, she stopped and sighed. The car - either her mum’s or Jack’s - was not there.

Hope pursed her lips and shrugged, taking another good look around just to make sure that she hadn’t missed it, but there wasn’t a familiar car in sight. She thus let her bag slip off her shoulder, and she perched her backside on the street sign, swinging one of her feet back and forth as she waited for the arrival of her escort.

In the meantime, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander again, as it had been doing often throughout the day, and looked around the street. There was a blue tit on the hedge over the road, stood near a couple of sparrows and a robin. The front door of house number five was a brilliant shade of red, something which she had never really noticed before, and there was some graffiti on the road sign on the opposite side of the street. It read ‘Bad’ something or other, but she couldn’t read the other word since it was blocked off by the blue box.

Hope blinked and slowly rose to her feet. It couldn’t be…

5) And for number five, this is a short extract from the an unpublished Star Wars fic I wrote around 2010, where I tried for what must have been the third time to re-write the Star Wars nonsense I wrote as a teenager, all starring my very Mary Sue OC, Nadia, who became Vader’s apprentice and was mentored by Veers. I have here again worked my experiences of passing out into the story - a psychologist would have a field day with me. Nadia’s thoughts about showing weakness were also real fears of mine - I never liked to be weak, to be ill, to be a burden, and my character was the mouthpiece for my own self-disgust. It’s written in the first person with Nadia narrating in this scene where she accompanies General (Maximilian) Veers to the Kaminoan’s cloning facility to review further batches of troops and is taken ill by the experience of seeing the thousands of farmed foetuses:

Max nodded whilst I remained breathless and shaky in his shadow. I could not get those tiny, wriggling foetuses out of many head - they floated upon my consciousness, their inhuman eyes glaring into my face and their tiny hands reaching out toward me. I tried to rid myself of these infantile phantoms, but I could not, and I suddenly felt quite ill.

“We shall need many more in our next delivery,” Max told the creature, who began to babble on about the problems of this request, but was halted mid-sentence when Maximilian wheeled about and grabbed me, saying my name over and over. He disappeared amidst the snowstorm of white dots that littered my vision, however, and I collapsed upon the floor.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright, white room. The walls dazzled me for a moment and it took my eyes and my mind time to adjust and to recognise reality. I looked slowly at the plain walls, finding myself alone upon a bed with my hands by my sides and a drip feeding liquid into my arm. This seemed quite surreal - I knew I was not ill enough to warrant this - but I resolved to stay put until someone came to me. I felt extremely tired and I thought that I may as well take advantage of the rest.

I fell back to sleep again and, when I next woke, I saw Max sat in a chair beside me. I glanced about the room - we were alone. I looked at him uncertainly, my visage undoubtedly betraying the signs of my mortification, for he first said: “Do not worry, Nadia, I am not angry with you. It cannot always be helped.”

...

I wanted to defy him, to be strong, but no, I just showed him weakness and insecurity. What indignity was this?

Thanks for the tag, that was fun! I can’t think of 5 writers to tag but off the top of my head: @feuillesmortes, @robins-treasure and @captainofthegreenpeas? Have a go if you fancy.

[unironicduncanstan]

the “Tangodeltaindia” blog explained,

aka my brain has cringe spots on it and needs to be inspected by the FDA

hi my names randi/uni and i created a total drama island themed ARG two months ago on a whim that almost no one interacted with bc i started off way too niche and difficult, so i kinda just went increasingly off the rails because i knew most likely no one was monitoring my posts and i could just make a real cursed hidden tomb that could one day be discovered by someone in a goonies esque unveiling. but then i got lice and now im sad and uncomfortable so i’m just gonna explain the entire damn thing in one shot. its absolutely batshit and theres a reason no one uncovered it ok here we go;;;

first of all the name. its so stupid but. ‘tango delta india’ = ‘tdi’ in the NATO phonetic alphabet. it just felt like a funny place to start that implies its gonna be a puzzle blog idk,

moving on to the actual content tho; some of the earlier posts mean p much nothing and were just an attempt to draw people in, such as the mr coconut ‘like if you agree’ or the ‘let him inside hes cold’ posts. 

then theres the cipher (x). it was posted shortly after the height of the ‘using total drama reference pictures to make an alphabet’ meme. in case anybody didnt see that; for a while it was a joke in the fandom to take the transparent references of total drama characters, and line them up, using them like hieroglyphics to make translatable pictures. its supposed to correspond to the alphabet, based on the first letter of their first name. an example could be, alejandro = a, bridgette = b, and so on. there was no solidly set alphabet amongst the fandom though, it was self explanatory most of the time so i made my own solid personal cipher key for that blog to make the whole thing easier.

NOW ONTO THE FIRST PUZZLE POST,,,, (x). theres a scene, a string of text, the cipher key, and a link to a decoder. the way to decode it all is to plug the characters on screen into the tangodeltaindia cipher key, and then plug That translation into the decoder website, and then finally paste in the text under the photo. 

the website linked is to a Caesar cipher decoder. the Caesar cipher is just a code where the alphabet is assigned to numbers (a=1, z=26), and to encode something with it you can move this pattern however you want as long as you keep the regular sequence of alphabet and numbers. so you could scootch over One letter, and “abc” would now say “bcd”. so on and so forth.

looking at the scene + my own total drama reference cipher, alejandro = A, and the beaver = 1, which gives A1. so you could now follow the link to the website, press ‘decode’, and paste in the text under the picture. the ‘shift’ in the middle is automatically set to ‘7′, or as it shows, a -> h, meaning ‘a’ has been moved over by 7 letters. so if you set the shift to just 1 over, or A1, now you can translate the text. it reads;

“lets start simple. after all, a trail of breadcrumbs begins with a loaf. whats the harm in another long winded fandom meme. another inside joke. and arent you curious whats truly lurking inside?”

edgy! simple! kinda just a test to see if people would do it or not. which they didnt so of course i tried to make it weirder-

puzzle 2; (x) using the exact same translation rules as above. we have alejandro and the snake, which with the tangodeltaindia cipher key means A6. going to the website, putting it in ‘decode’ mode, pasting in your text, and setting the shift to ‘6′ gives you this translation.

“in his eyes are an island. nothing but a dream, born out of going to bed angry. sink or swim.”

this was just hinting around at where the story was gonna go so it’ll make more sense later. something else to note; if you zoom all the way in and look into alejandros eye (’in his eyes’), you’ll see the word ‘Thera’. ~thats a surprise tool that will help us later~

so after this one, there are two non-puzzle posts that are also just hints (i was just tryna see if i could get people hyped), the first is a close up picture of chris with red eyes that simply says “those arent his eyes”, and then a post that says “his real names not chris :)”, they’re again referencing his eyes, and this time further implying theres something fake or wrong about them, or with chris as a person. again, it’ll be explained better later on.

moving on to puzzle 3 (x), another test to see if anyones keeping up (which also failed josdfjsdfkjs), using the same translation rules, dj = a dash or minus, and the snail = 5, “-5″, shift the letter ‘A’ BACK five instead of forward, and you get the simple translation of; “getting harder now.”

puzzle 4 and 5; at this point, there are two images posted within hours of each other that i’ll explain together as they line up. (x) (x)

These are some of the only ones that can be translated from just the tangodeltaindia key directly. They end up a string of numbers, which are latitude and longitude coordinates. The first post, labelled “the lie”, translates into “45.57394802102744, -81.46817207492494″. googling that will take you to maps and show you to a place called Lonely Island in Canada.

The second one, “the truth”, translates into “36.404663113177534, 25.39605673375295″, taking you to Santorini, Greece.

This is where the hints got really out there bc i realized nobody was following along but i still wanted to paint a picture. so this is the set up;;; the idea that the ‘island’ (camp wawanakwa) existing somewhere in canada, is a lie. the ‘true’ location being santorini isnt meant to be taken at face value though. the mythology behind santorini is that a man impregnated a goddess and to escape the wrath of her father (triton), she formed the island (santorini) by having her lover throw clay into the sea, and then she gave birth to her son, Theras, on this island, giving the island it’s Other nickname, Thera.

this is again just a vague implication that the island might not be real at all, or that it was formed through cosmic means.

the next two posts are more non-puzzle hints, the first showing the definition of the word ‘fresh’ (new), and the second being images of total drama backgrounds with no characters and the text reading “they were always empty.” more, admittedly very outlandish implications that the island is some kind of illusion, but again mostly just another try to drag people into the blog.

puzzle 6. (x) this one introduces a new concept to the regular translation rules, some of the characters are laying down. its kinda supposed to imply they’re “dead” and that you need to take their corresponding letters out of the alphabet given on the Caesar cipher page, below the shift. The upright characters translate to “-9″, so you shift ‘A’ back 9 letters. Then remove the letters; “TH-E-R-A-S”, and with those letters taken out, you can finally translate the text.

“he creates life solely to destroy it. to crush it in his hands. he births chaos so that he may have something to control. the power has given him madness. the isolation, arrogance. don't try to stop him, he's already chosen to be unstoppable. his mind is a perfectly crafted prison, one we will all soon be living in.”

this is where the story gets more on the nose. it’s talking about chris, and about him being an unstoppable cosmic force, a diety who can create worlds within his own mind, and he does so maliciously just for power. hes created the campers through mental energy just to torment them. it also hints that his plan is to expand the world of total drama island and engulf the whole universe.

puzzle 7. (x) same as the last puzzle. beaver and moose translate to ‘1-0′ or ten. the characters lying down to remove from the caesar cipher alphabet are “T-U-L-P-A”. this doesnt have anything to do with the modern way some ppl interact with tulpas but just the actual idea of creating thoughtforms, or willing your thoughts into real life creations, referencing how chris has created the entire island and everyone on it solely through his mind. with those letters removed and the shift set forward 10, you get this:

“his psychic power is unfathomable. the reality he bore was just a passing thought. an idea that became so dangerous. he predates the idea of a mind, the minds own ability to recognize itself, his synapses are paradoxically ancient. the island exists only within himself, to torment the souls hes created, and damned from the start. will they ever be free?”

it states that chris is more than a man or even just a diety, hes an all powerful god already, yet he craves more power. the final line, “will they ever be free” is in reference to the campers, which segways into the next arc;;; freeing the campers from chris’ psychic island imprisonment.

puzzle 8. (x) to solve this one you have to translate the top image with the tangodeltaindia cipher key, and add it to the text given, which creates a link. this leads to a PDF, a page from a book written by terence mckenna. he’s a famous ethnobotanist known best for his studies on DMT, the strongest hallucinogenic drug in the world, its also known as the spirit molecule. many people on this drug (without any prior knowledge of this phenomenon) will recount meeting strange fractal beings that can create things in the universe just by speaking them into existence, theyve come to be known as ‘machine elves’, a term coined by mckenna. ill show the most important excerpt from the page;

this is less about the psychedelic drug part and more about the words and ideas, like “punching a hole through a dimension so it pours through” and “if god didnt exist man would invent him”. its more worldbuilding towards chris’ power and cosmic abilities

then come 2 more clues. a picture of chris holding his own body captioned ‘ego death’, and the meaning behind the name ‘chris mcclean’. the latter is another “please look over here” post, but the first is another minor reference to the previous puzzles answer involving DMT and terence mckenna. ‘ego death’ is a term again used with strong psychedelic drugs, its the sensation that your spirit as you know it is literally Dying, and you are instead connected to and a part of everything around you. another reference to chris’ power and how he may look like a man but his body and spirit are connected to the world hes built in unfathomable ways. at this point im cementing the idea that chris mclean is not a mortal man and cannot be fought with mortal weapons

puzzle 9. (x) this one was an attempt to make easier to solve puzzles, and comes with a visual of chris looming over the island. the text is in wingdings, which can be translated through multiple websites found through google. it says;

“s︎o︎o︎n︎ h︎e︎ w︎i︎l︎l︎ s︎l︎e︎e︎p.︎ h︎e︎ w︎i︎l︎l︎ d︎r︎e︎a︎m︎ a︎ n︎e︎w︎ h︎e︎l︎l︎,︎ a︎n︎d︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ w︎i︎l︎l︎ b︎e︎ o︎u︎r︎ o︎n︎l︎y︎ c︎h︎a︎n︎c︎e︎,︎ t︎o︎ s︎a︎v︎e︎ h︎i︎s︎ c︎r︎e︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎s︎,︎ a︎n︎d︎ f︎r︎e︎e︎ t︎h︎o︎s︎e︎ w︎h︎o︎ w︎e︎r︎e︎ n︎e︎v︎e︎r︎ d︎e︎s︎i︎g︎n︎e︎d︎ t︎o︎ b︎e︎ f︎r︎e︎e︎.︎ t︎h︎i︎s︎ m︎a︎y︎ c︎o︎m︎e︎ a︎t︎ a︎ c︎o︎s︎t︎.︎ t︎h︎e︎ n︎i︎g︎h︎t︎m︎a︎r︎e︎ m︎u︎s︎t︎ e︎n︎d︎,︎ t︎h︎e︎ o︎u︎r︎o︎b︎o︎r︎o︎s︎ o︎f︎ h︎i︎s︎ s︎y︎n︎c︎o︎pe︎ m︎u︎s︎t︎ c︎l︎o︎s︎e︎,︎ b︎u︎t︎ i︎t︎ m︎a︎y︎ t︎u︎r︎n︎ o︎u︎r︎ e︎f︎f︎o︎r︎t︎s︎ o︎f︎ s︎a︎l︎v︎a︎t︎i︎o︎n︎ t︎o︎ d︎u︎s︎t︎.︎ o︎u︎r︎ f︎i︎g︎h︎t︎ m︎i︎g︎h︎t︎ e︎n︎d︎ i︎n︎ s︎a︎c︎r︎i︎f︎i︎c︎e︎,︎ r︎e︎n︎d︎e︎r︎i︎n︎g︎ h︎i︎s︎ l︎a︎s︎t︎ i︎n︎v︎e︎n︎t︎i︎o︎n︎ b︎u︎t︎ a︎ c︎e︎a︎s︎e︎l︎e︎s︎s︎ v︎o︎i︎d︎.︎ w︎e︎ m︎a︎y︎ s︎e︎e︎ h︎o︎r︎r︎o︎r︎s︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎ c︎a︎u︎s︎e︎ t︎h︎e︎ s︎t︎a︎r︎s︎ t︎o︎ s︎h︎u︎d︎d︎e︎r︎,︎ b︎u︎t︎ w︎e︎ m︎u︎s︎t︎ t︎a︎ke︎ t︎h︎i︎s︎ c︎h︎a︎n︎c︎e︎.︎ w︎e︎ h︎a︎v︎e︎ n︎o︎t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ t︎o︎ l︎o︎s︎e︎,︎ a︎n︎d︎ a︎ w︎o︎r︎l︎d︎ o︎f︎ n︎o︎t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎n︎e︎s︎s︎ t︎o︎ e︎n︎d︎.︎ m︎a︎y︎ t︎h︎e︎ s︎e︎a︎ s︎w︎a︎l︎l︎o︎w︎ u︎p h︎i︎s︎ i︎s︎l︎a︎n︎d︎ o︎f︎ l︎i︎e︎s︎.︎ g︎o︎d︎ pr︎o︎t︎e︎c︎t︎ y︎o︎u︎.︎”

this is essentially saying that the island, the campers, werent all just created from his mind, but from his dreams. this confirms that he Sleeps, and claims hes going to sleep again soon, and during that time period theres a chance to kill him before he can dream up another world (or season) to control and torment. its also saying that theres a chance killing him will destroy the island and campers, but that its the only choice we would have to end the cycle. hey guys i am so bored and over the years i have been on every stimulant and anti depressant doctors are legally allowed to prescribe and its still just not quite there yet huh

puzzle 10. (x) the video, the title translates to “the island of his eye”. its just meant to encapsulate everything ive already been hinting around at but with real footage and some audios taken from the show, and again, it was me tryna make some lore that was easy to digest and also terrifying to an audience with no other context. the final images are the only new clues, if you pause fast enough you can barely make out the characters that (paired with the tangodeltaindia cipher key) would say “set them free”, and you can also see an aerial view of what is actually called “the eye of argentina”. it is a real island that rotates atop a swamp, it is geometrically perfect and no one really knows for sure why it rotates the way it does or how it was formed. this clue is simply related back to the idea that the island of wawanakwa’s location is not in canada, and that it does not function like a normal island.

puzzle 11. (x) what td blog is complete without a uquiz? anyways, it doesnt matter how you answer the quiz, theres only one possible result. the title is a link to a mega file, which is protected with a decryption key. the image attached to the result, when deciphered, is the randomly generated key to the unlock the file. the image you see from the file is this; (TW for mentions of self harm and eye trauma)

in case this is too hard to read ill transcribe what it says;

“How to escape the dream - accept that there is no dream to escape, and no you to escape it. - believe in it anyways. - sleep on your back. - cover your eyes. - hide a nail under the pillow. - wait for the ringing. - when you first see him, dont call his name. dont speak. - keep your eyes shut. - on the second night, ask where the camp is. he wont respond verbally. - on the third night, you’ll see his eyes. - on the fourth night, you’ll enter them. - you can’t turn back after the fifth night. - don’t try to hide your fears. he knows them before you arrive. - don’t shut your eyes for too long when it becomes too much. you risk losing them. - find chris mclean. - don’t stop till the nail is through the socket. - repeat on the other side. - repeat on yourself. - congratulations. they are free”

this is, believe it or not, an idea that comes from my very own sleep paralysis experiences. ive dealt with it a lot, so why not make a weird ritual thing for an arg based off it ig. so whenever i’d fall asleep on my back, i’d eventually hear this ringing in my ears (or it’d happen upon waking up), and then the sleep paralysis would begin. i only ‘saw’ stuff a couple times but the fear for me was really more about the overwhelming sensation of pure dread that always came along with it even when i was aware what was happening, and i Always got this feeling too that if i opened my eyes in that moment, something was gonna stab them.

so moving on to how that applies to the arg, the first few lines are about how, obviously, the island is not real, even in the lore being given its a figment of chris’ imagination, but you have to enter it anyways, and the only way to do that is to believe its real. then it tells you how to ‘enter’ that world, (btw i didn’t expect anyone to actually follow these instructions if found, but even if they did, the whole ‘sleep paralysis being caused by sleeping on your back’ thing usually only happens if you’re predisposed to having it and only happens to Some people who have it, so the intent was like. never to bring that upon anybody. but if you are prone to sleep paralysis plz do not attempt even as a joke or anything thx)

the parts about hallucinating chris then are as follows, “ask about the camp / he wont respond verbally” , meaning he will show you through a dream instead, one that might look a lot like the video from before. “on the third night you will see his eyes”, meaning you will see the island but not be able to interact with it, or basically, how we see total drama on tv right now. “on the fourth night you’ll enter (his eyes)” references the island existing ‘within his eyes’, meaning you will enter the actual island. the next night chris will sleep and you will be able to enter the island again and find him. the idea with the nail is that, if you destroy his eyes you destroy the ‘island’ within them. wrapping back around to sleep paralysis, the idea of stabbing yourself with the nail afterwards is because sometimes, the only thing you can move during sleep paralysis is your fingertips and toes, and wiggling those can help bring you out of the paralysis. so at first how i used to wake myself up, but it didnt usually work fast enough so oftentimes id just pinch the shit out of my fingers and use pain to make my muscles start up faster.

the next post is a link to a countdown. again, i knew nobody was rly following at this point, but i wanted a little more build up before just dropping the ending. it was set up to end 5 days after the last post, aka the one that mentioned a 5 night dream ritual.

puzzle 12. (x) going all the way back to the normal multi step translation puzzles. the coloring of the cipher is a bit different, and its missing chris, but its meant to be used the same as it was before, these changes are only for dramatic effect. and chris is gone because well. we mentally offed him in the inception dream land last time. so anyways the snake = 6, shift A to 6, take out the letters “R-I-C-K” of the characters laying in their graves, and you get this translation;

“its almost time. we must now crack open our minds like a crowbar to a sealed chest. like an egg to a pan. to find our way into camp wawanakwa our ego cannot remain intact, and to traverse it we must stay strong. to escape it, we must glue the pieces back together. now we sleep. dream. end the nightmare.”

this is a final message before ‘entering the island’ to kill chris and free the campers from the island. it acts like a pep talk.

the next post is just the countdown ending.

puzzle 13 (the finale). (x)

this post sends you to a new blog entirely, called @awakenfromthenightmare​. there is only one post on it. the post has another link to a mega file, and the link is attached onto a string of text. follow the link by clicking, then copy the text and paste it in as the decryption key. now you have another image to translate with the tangodeltaindia cipher;

when translated, the text is another link to a youtube video. 

 www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ

so there you have it, that video is the ending to the entire arg. it didnt really end the way i wanted at first, i got burnt out from no engagement about halfway through which isnt anybody elses fault, but i still felt this was a well crafted and fitting finale. thank you all for reading.

[thenightling]

Opinion on the rioters who dressed as The Punisher

Opinion on the Rioters dressed as The Punisher:

I recently found out some of the Capitol rioters were dressed as The Punisher from Marvel comics.  Do I blame the character?  No.   However, i have become very cautious in regard to hardcore fans of the character and not merely over this.

First, I admit, I never really liked The Punisher as a character.   I thought of him as an edgy byproduct of comics gradually shifting to being darker and grittier.  He was one of the first heroes to not preach about justice and redemption but instead wanted to kill.  He was not a protagonist.  He started as a villain in the Amazing Spider-Man comics.  Stan Lee had not liked the character. (This is a fact that is easily checked and Googled).

In the late 80s and early 90s he became very popular as comics became darker and so he was given his own comic and appeared more often and often as a protagonist anti-hero.

I never liked the concept of him.  Sure, he had a sympathetic backstory but the “Killing is the only answer” never sat right for me.  The lack of mercy he showed even to the repentant, it always bothered me.  I got that he was supposed to be mentally-ill but in his own comics his behavior was, far too often, justified.

Other media tried to mimic the character.  The Ben Affleck Daredevil behaved more like The Punisher than Daredevil.  Instead of a defense attorney he was now a prosecutor.  And if he lost a case he would hunt down the criminal and kill him, brutally.   There’s one scene where he severs a man’s spine and then gloats as a train comes to hit him, as he lays paralyzed on the track. That’s not Matt.

Ben Affleck again played totally-not-Punisher in his portrayal of Batman.  A gun-using batman that was loosely inspired by Frank Miller.  And all the Zack Snyder Fanboys came crawling out of the woodwork, insisting that this was “realistic” and “more accurate to the comics” and “but look, he killed in these old comics!”   They either were lying by omission or didn’t know about Crisis on Infinite Earths and how main continuity Batman had been anti-gun and anti-killing since at least 1985.  The entire plot of Alan Moore’s The Killing Joke was based on this established lore. 

There’s no doubt Punisher has had a serious influence on popculture and something I called Darkity, dark, dark writing or as others have named it: “Edgelord.” 

It’s a sort of “dark and gritty” “realism” popular among boys between the ages of eleven and fifteen who genuinely think crime would end if we shot every criminal and don’t realize that most real world police officers have never drawn their gun, despite what you might see in the news.  If murder truly was the norm, people wouldn’t still be horrified by it.

Now on to the fans.   There are far too many Punisher fans who think he was and is in the right.  They think he is an aspirational figure to admire and look up to.  A “realistic” hero by Zack Snyder standards, because hope and mercy are what is apparently unrealistic in a world consisting of aliens, Greek Gods, witchcraft, and even the folkloric Sandman (That’s in DC, not Marvel though Nightmare is arguably the Marvel equivalent).

I used to be Facebook friends with a Punisher fan.   He was equally obsessed with The Joker.  At first i just let it be.  You’re allowed to like edgy or dark characters.  There’s no harm in that.  But... he got creepy.   He would quote the Joker in conversation about “SJWs” and “progressives.”   He would say things like “My eyes were opened as yours soon will be.”   

He was convinced liberals tried to ruin The Joker movie and posted pictures of the Joker dancing down the stairs with “HAHAHAHAHA!  Suck my dick, Progressives!” in at least two of the facebook groups I run.  It got embarrassing that when people would search for my Horror Comics group, the sample post Facebook gave was that one.  

He kept talking about how both The Punisher and The Joker are right.  His facebook picture would alternate between the two characters depending on his mood.  He would post memes “explaining” why The Punisher is right.

He would post articles about this or that criminal being arrested and refer to them as “it” and “thing” and how “it should be tortured four hours before someone kills it.”   things like that, about various people who did things that were (admittedly) horrific and reprehensible but he would go into graphic detail about what he wanted to do with them   Very sadistic, Saw-like tortures before “Mercifully” killing them.  

He once casually told me how he wanted to kill all progressives.  I gently reminded him that I have liberal leanings and I got a “You’re different” sort of response.  

As his behavior got more fanatical and disturbing, the more uncomfortable I became.   After the progressives threat I made the mistake of telling someone who was mutually friends with us both that I felt threatened.  Needless to say the one I have just described to you called me a liar, insisted he never said anything threatening.  And accused me of being “one of them.”

I told him he had been acting increasingly strangely and needed to stop posting the pro-Joker stuff.  And it wasn’t just the film The Joker.  It was the version from Gotham (TV series) he tried to emulate and praised.  A woman celebrity he didn’t like was soon being called “It.”  Then some feminist (I didn’t agree with this person) was saying how The Mandalorian didn’t have enough female characters or diversity and should be canceled.  It was some stupid opinion piece published by a site like Buzzfeed or Io9 during the first season of Mandalorian. 

This guy was very conservative but had a bad habit of seeking out fanatical articles like this to make himself angry.  The only time I ever agreed with him on the matter was when he came to my defense for not liking the 2016 Ghostbusters.  Someone in my own Gothic Horror Facebook group had decided to call me a self-loathing misogynist and insisted the only reason I didn’t like it is because the characters were women.   No, I don’t like slapstick comedy.  I didn’t like that they didn’t bother to use real parapsychology or theoretical physics (as the original had done).  I didn’t like that the “genius” of the group licked her proton blaster and that was the common promo image for the film. I didn’t like that people who praised the film entirely forgot that there was a diverse team lead by a woman in the 90s. (Extreme Ghostbusters).   I didn’t like that they destroyed ghosts instead of trapped them.   That violates the law of conservation and most spiritual beliefs as even being possible. It was just a bad movie.

I agreed with him on that one but when this anti-Mandalorian article came out he went too far.  He insisted the woman who wrote it should be dragged out into the street and shot.  He called her “it” and “thing” and said she didn’t deserve to live . I told him he was going too far, and she couldn’t take the show away, that he was over reacting. 

He then blocked me.   I thought it was done and over with, then the Pandemic hit.

When the Pandemic happened he unblocked me and in a revisionist history of events insisted he had blocked me because I had “lied” and said he threatened me.   No, he had told me he wanted to kill all progressives, knowing that I am one.   And that was not why he blocked me.  It was because I disagreed about his death threats about the writer of a Mandalorian article.  He wanted to fight.  He alternated between insulting me and trying to show how good he was to come to me during a world crisis, like he was doing me a favor.  I blocked him this time.

That night my Facebook account was disabled.  Someone had reported my account as not being a real person, and Facebook wanted photographic proof that I’m real.   It was re-enabled as soon as I sent in a photo but as I don’t have a smartphone (I live in a deadzone) and I’m visually impaired it was a little bit of a pain.  This was not something that had ever happened to me before.  And I had witnessed this Punisher fan report accounts of those he wanted to “punish” before.

And now I find out some of these rioters were wearing Punisher shirts.   So yes, I keep my guard up around Punisher fans.

Do I blame the character?  No.  Not really.   If not him they would have found someone else to try to emulate and idolize.  Getting rid of the character won’t get rid of this mentality.   I never liked the character but I don’t want him banned.  I would be happy if less people were obsessed with him.  I would be happy if those obsessed with the character didn’t all remind me of the man I described here.  I would be happy if fans of the character were more likely to say that they don’t agree with the character’s actions, they just like his story.

There’s nothing wrong in liking a character with problematic behavior.  But if you can’t acknowledge that it’s wrong and instead glorify and romanticize the actions of the character, that’s the problem.   I love lots of characters who do bad things.  I love Count Dracula.  I don’t intend to drink blood and sic wolves on people.   And I have absolutely no interest in impalement.   

I think far too many Punisher fans don’t realize he’s in the wrong, instead want to be like him, and have trouble separating fiction from reality.  I do not blame the character.  They would have found someone else if not him.  But unfortunately, I AM starting to view hardcore / obsessively being a fan of The Punisher as a bit of a red flag considering how many of them behave this way...

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, BRIDGET! You’ve been accepted for the role of POMPEY. Admin Minnie: I had some trouble writing Piero in the beginning; in fact, I rewrote him a few times because I couldn’t find the right words to describe the core of him. But you, Bridget, nailed it exactly in ways that I had not even seen myself. You made him utter real — sometimes uncomfortably so, all of that feeling and pride, As I was reading your application, I immediately felt like he was already yours. I really tried to pick out my favorite line in your application, the detail that really drove it home for me — but the truth is, Bridget, you won me over so thoroughly that I love it all. I cannot wait to see you on our dash again, Bridget, and I’m so happy you’re back! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Bridget

Age | Twenty-two

Preferred Pronouns | She/they

Activity Level | I’m either gonna be on every three minutes or three days apart, there is no in between, but I promise to keep my activity constant and in line with your standards and let it be known if I am having any struggles with meeting them.

Timezone | EST

How did you find the rp?  | Hazel

IN CHARACTER

Character | Pompey ; Piero Montrelle Ruiz

Piero ; italian: rock

Montrelle ; italian: mountain

Ruiz ; spanish: famous ruler

What drew you to this character? |

Listen, I made a meme when I was apping Hazel, Imma show y’all right now:

It’s a dumb meme and I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but share it.

I honestly play characters like Piero more than I play nicer, more morally-sound characters like Hazel, but I wanted to try something new, so ultimately I decided to pursue Hazel at the time. That said, as much as I love Hazel and would love to write her again, I kept thinking about Piero and his youth and ambition, and so now here we are, me obsessed and wanting to write him.

Okay, rambling ? Done. Let’s do this.

Something about Piero just screamed to me boy king, and that’s just my style. It was in the way he put himself above other children, his pride and his ego. He was born to be something and, in his youth, before he knew of his parents’ empire, before they told him who he was meant to be, he was searching for it. He couldn’t find in it eager kiddy games, he couldn’t find it in chit chat or childhood experiences. But there was something that rushed through him when he saw them stumble, he found satisfaction in figuring things out ages before them. It was in feeling better than them, feeling stronger and superior, and — simply, just being better. He had no time for laughter, for foolishness. What was the point of that, if not to waste time ? ( He was a mean boy, but his parents never pushed him not to be. If he caused another to bleed, it was their fault for not defending themselves. If his whispers of cruel words caused them to weep, they needed to strengthen their mental fortitude. No fault was to be found in Piero ).

I also want to pinpoint there’s something about Piero that also reads naivety to me. He considers himself wise and intelligent, and to some point I do agree ( books and tutors can teach, and they do ) but there are other notions that bring out his youth. It’s in his eavesdropping on his parents — yes, he was young when it happened, but still someone wiser would have understood that some secrets are such for a reason. Instead, he lusted for the unknown, something bigger than himself ( this — as well, is something I’d like to focus on, but I’ll come back to this later. ) and he found himself frenzied until he was finally privy to the family secrets. I see him as being inexperienced, someone who doesn’t have quite the worldliness as someone twice his age or even someone who had to struggle for basic needs during their childhood.

( Also, there is the fact his parents groomed him as being special. He never earned the title, instead it was bequeathed unto him from the very start. His parents claimed he walked younger than most, talked younger than most. He excelled in classes, he excelled in his physical ability. Again and again, his parents claimed him remarkable. I think, amongst the Veronesi, it might be time for him to realize that maybe he isn’t more than his name. This probably should go under plotting but I’m imagining him seeing others with skills he was never taught, maybe those his mother would have considered barbaric and uncouth. Piero wouldn’t see that, though. He would see force and deadly talent and he would see the areas in which he holds deficits. Also, just the ability and skill that comes with time and practice beyond natural talent. I keep reminding myself that, although a little bit weary with a lot of trauma, Piero is still nineteen. I used to think that was so old and so mature, but he’s barely more than a kid. Fun Science Fact: brains aren’t developed fully until their mid-20s !!! Some studies suggest early 30s !!!! Piero hasn’t even reached 20s !!!! He’s still baby !!!!! He’s going to make mistakes and learn and he might be reluctant and angry to do ( please see trauma re: parent death and assassination attempts )  so but he’s gonna do it to better himself which is what he wants to do !!! )

Piero learned so much from his parents, from tutors and teachers alike, but there is something more about experiencing things for himself and not just from the words of others and that’s where his youth shows. The first time he fought, really fought, not for practice or for fun ( something about him just coded him as a bully in my mind, one who’d pick a fight with someone who, one, would fight back, and, two, someone he would definitely beat, but I digress ), in my mind, was when Tiberius came to kill him. There was a fight or flight reaction and he was proud and cocky and pumped up on adrenaline because — this — this was what it was all for. He fought with a flurry of fists, frenzied, wild. In that moment, he knew this for certain: Ruizes were powerful and forceful and they would not flee. If he died right then, so be it, but he wouldn’t have looked death in the face and accepted it.

Okay, so this has turned into a rambling character analysis, and I apologize because I said I was done rambling, and clearly not. That said, I don’t regret it. I just have so much passion and fervor for Piero and I could write a ton more. I might. Later. We’ll see.

I just can’t help but be captured by how striking he is. He’s new to Verona, new to this scene of criminal seediness because this is when he’s finally beginning to get his hands dirty, beyond the basics of opening his eyes. His parents were introducing him to this life, but they didn’t let him delve too deep. They were bringing him in slowly, and then they died. He had nothing right then, nothing but his name and its weight. That wasn’t enough, but his brutality was. When death came for him, it made a mark on Tiberius for him — maybe all of the Capulets, too — and now he’s determined to leave a stain on all of Verona, perhaps Spain and the rest of the world, too.

I originally saw him as something of a blank slate when it came to his being in Verona, but after thinking it through a tad more, he isn’t. His parents wrote his future for him with the very incident of his birth, and now he is filling in the blanks that have been left for him after their deaths. Verona — the Capulets — they are a step in his path to power. Here, he could find allies — he already has enemies — and he learned at a young age the value others could be in company. Over time, maybe they will see that he is someone with a bright future, someone who should be watched carefully because blink and you’ll miss his grab for something better.

He should not be overlooked and that is something I think people might do. Sure, his family had a reputation, one that might cause some pause, but they might think he isn’t them. He is young and inexperienced, but there’s a chip on his shoulder and in his mouth is a taste for blood. He won’t go down quietly or without a fight. He is watching and waiting for chance and opportunity. He’ll prove any doubter wrong, he’s sure of it with all the self-confidence and egotism a princeling could have.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

1. Emotional Motion Sickness: Something that struck me about Piero is how he once wore his emotions on his sleeve. He fought for his life, fueled by loss and grief. He has a practiced void in his eyes and locked tears away. In my mind, this is not him, it is not in his nature. He was the sort to be fueled by idle amusements, wanting satisfaction, his eagerness knowing no bounds. He feels, and he feels immensely. It could be said it’s what he does best.  But now? He is quiet, showing little. It’s vacant and a little numbing, and the void in his eyes is cold and distant. What his cards are and what he intends to play are known to him and him only. I can’t help but think that maybe, one day, he is going to break, the facade dropping, eyes blazing. Anyone caught in the crossfire surely would regret their taunts and jeers.

1. I just have this vision of him snapping. It would take a lot — honestly, a lot — because he’s created this solid version of himself, almost patient, somewhat mostly obedient ( I do imagine he chafes under rules a little — more than a little bit actually, but he bites it back time and time again ) but unfeeling. Jibs and jabs don’t get to him. They seemingly roll off of his back. I have to say that isn’t the case. He’s proud and he can only take so many insults. If — actually, when — he breaks, it’s going to have been a long time coming. The facade will start to break, cracks showing in the twitch of his fingers, the tension in his jaw. Maybe it will earn him respect from those around him when he snaps and demands more for him  — he’s more than just the last of the Ruizes, living off of the faded glory of their name, and he’ll be damned if he’s not allowed to show it — but maybe it will only be a reminder that he was a loose end, and he was meant to be dead to begin with.

2. Who Am I? You Decide: He comes to Verona and what’s most obvious is that he has offered himself wholly to the Capulets. It’s not what his parents did — they were owed power for their allyship while Piero is now owed nothing. At the beginning, he is dutiful and obedient. He’s got nothing to lose but he has everything to gain here. He has to prove himself, really it’s his main goal. To do this, he finally understands words his parents told him so many years ago. Detener la marea y esperarar al momento adecuado: Hold back the tide and wait for the right time. He’s trying to listen and be quiet and wait and watch, but he’s never known patience well. He acted and reacted in his youth — power and privilege granted that ability — and this restraint is taking a lot of effort.

1. The facade crumbles and falls slowly, piece by piece. It starts with remarks and quips that are a touch too dry and that have too jagged an edge to people who don’t matter. It then escalates. He tries to manipulate situations where he sees a chance to take hold. He bites when he should be muzzled ; he acts of his own accord. I have no doubt that his own desires and whims to take action will get him in trouble. He is a wicked boy and always has been, soul stained black by birthright and only darkened with time. He found thrill in other people getting hurt, whether by his hand or not. He found glee in twisting his words to twist knives in others’ hearts. Maybe he learned it from watching his parents — they were by no means good people — but maybe it was part nurture, part nature. It was fate to be bad, or at the very least unkind.

2. His true nature shows in these ways: he speaks when he shouldn’t, he becomes too comfortable around Tiberius, a man who is like a friend and a brother, but ultimately was the man who was meant to kill him. It shows in his interactions with Vivianne, charm oozing, frenetic words of grandeur and idyllic plans slipping from his lips in eager commentaries about Verona and Spain and the whole world further. He speaks to them as if they are not his betters — as if he is more than even an equal — and soon it is not only them. It will become everyone.

3. Throwing Rocks Around Your Room: Everything in his life has been destroyed or taken from him in irreparable ways. This new life, this new existence, a part of him wonders how long it will last ( there is, of course, a certainty that this has to last. It’s this life in the mobs, or death. No middle, no escape. All or nothing. Black or white ). He seems so neutral, so unmoveable, but his head is a wrecking ball. He thinks of ways to destroy not only himself but all those around him. A part of him thinks the Capulets are to blame for the ruination of his family and their name — exceedingly childish, for sure — but he wonders what it would be like to see them crumble, perhaps making a martyr of himself in the process. The one flaw to this is that he does not want to die. For what use was him surviving this long if it comes not to a head ? He needs to make a mark. He needs to be known not just by a few Capulets and other Veronesi — but by everyone. He wants parents to shiver when their babes utter his name. He wants his name in history books, imprinted on pages that will survive longer than their maker.

1. Destruction has followed Piero. At first, it was only others, starting with children who crossed him, and then it turned to the enemies of his family. He did well when it was his hand casting the stone. And then, it turned on him. His family’s empire turned from masterpiece to rubble. Another turn took and his family was whittled down to one. The idea of erupting and destroying who he thinks hurt him ? Somewhat appealing. But he can’t do it. He wants more. He’s hungry to become bigger than he is. I want him to find a way to do it ( and while he’d consider acting Brutus within the Capulets, his own pride and ambition would be champ at the bit, rendering him unable ) or at least consider his options. He’s restless as part of the Capulets. He feels like they are keeping him down, not letting him be enough.

4. I Don’t Have a Fancy Title for This One I’m Sorry: When it comes to Tiberius, Piero wants to impress him, to prove him right, that sparing him was the right choice. But at the same time, bitterness remains and finds itself seeping into his blood, the feeling intensifying, every time Piero finds himself being held back by the scruff. With his … befriending ( that isn’t the right word, and it doesn’t convey what I want to say ? Admiring ? Infatuation — not romantically, of course ) of Vivianne, he wonders if impressing her over Tiberius is the way to go. He considers ignoring Tiberius, going off on his own and making his own choices. Maybe that’s what he needs to do to shake off the status of initiate, to become a soldier.

1. tl;dr: Eventually, if Tiberius doesn’t let Piero have a little more responsibility and things to do, he’ll find someone else who will grant him that.

Current State of Being

→ Piero is trying to stay in line, keep quiet, and do what’s asked of him. But he’s antsy and he’s simmering. There’s so much he has to say ; he’s so not used to being at the bottom of the pecking order. It’s not going to last. He’s got a lot to say, he wants to do things. Sooner or later, he’s going to stop waiting for permission ( and, in turn, he’ll beg for forgiveness if need-be )

Character Goals

→ Have Piero use his voice. He stops listening to the jeers and taunts of everyone who thinks they know all there is to know about them, and he tells them off. He’s no longer silent and maybe people will look at him in a different light. Or maybe he gets in trouble. Either way would further. I’m leaning towards having him react and get angry, raising his voice in a way he shouldn’t.

→ His true nature shows. Wicked is as wicked does. He gets comfortable in Verona. He acts on instinct, he lashes out. Maybe someone gets hurt — maybe it’s him, maybe not. He starts to abuse his ability to talk to people, twisting words and twisting hearts and feelings. Manipulation is in his blood. He acts out, he steps out of line and does something for people to see him as more than just a little initiate in the Capulet’s gang.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? |

Don’t kill baby jk do it i dare you

IN DEPTH

( i’m replying to some of the questions & i did a para sample )

What is your favorite place in Verona?

He gets lost more often than he’d like. He wanders down streets he’s never gone down and through alleys with unknown endings. A part of him would be delighted if it wasn’t overtaken by the idea that he needed to know these streets better than he did. There was no time to be idle, no time to do anything with purpose. Most of the Capulets, surely the Montagues, knew this city like the back of their hands.

He wanted to know it better than they did, better than those naturally Verona-born. It was more than a want, it was a need that burned within him.

Still, the streets were beautiful.

It was different than home, than Spain. There, his family had resided just outside one of its largest city. From his room, he could hear the sounds of cars whizzing by on nearby highways. If he didn’t close the curtains, he would be bombarded with the lights of the city, no stars to be seen.

Here, despite its age and all of its magnitudes, Verona seemed infinitely smaller to him. He was refusing to allow himself to like it, to find a home.

It’s a long time before he finally answers the question, and his response can hardly be considered an answer. He only gives a shrug of his shoulders, absent, vague, and his gaze turns towards the window. His eyes are dead and shark-like as people pass by.

That’s not an answer, Piero.

He sighs, a loud and exasperated sound. There’s another pause on his part, this one longer and emphasized by his ability to not look at the asker once. This person — the soldato — means nothing to him. He’s sure they’ve already passed their prime. They’re as likely to ascend further as he is to fall flat — which is to say unlikely. And because of this, he cares little for them. He waits to say something poised and clever until perfect ears are listening.

Finally, there comes an answer, the barest bones of respect he’ll give, one with a little more substance to it. That doesn’t mean his voice has an affect that is more than flat. It doesn’t mean he seems to care. “ There’s a little flower shop that I can see from the window of my flat. I’ve never — “ his nose wrinkles at the thought “ — I’ve never bought anything from it, but it reminds me of when I was living another life. ”

It reminds him of the day his parents died and he was left standing alone to face their destruction, his shoes sticking to the hardwood floors as blood dried on their soles.

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“ Ambition is my folly. ”

It’s said lightly, airily, as if it doesn’t matter. Look closer, see how the muscle clenches in his cheek, how there’s a sparkle momentarily flashing in his eyes before it fades to dullness. He wants to do something that has weight ( — like the heft of a gun in his hand, the feeling of his body atop another’s as his fists bear down ) and yet he is relegated to simple tasks only. He feels like a page, or perhaps worse, a pawn, unimportant and oh-so-easily replaceable.

Maybe his mistake has been living.

It shouldn’t seem like that.

But he hates being an underling. He hates being told what to do and when to do it. His life is now dictated by another, not even a Ruiz. When it was his parents instructing him, it felt different, less like someone was making all of his choices for him and more like — more like he mattered ? There is no need to convince himself that he did matter to his parents — he was next in line, preened and primed, being readied to take the throne his family had been sitting on for generations — because he knows it’s true. Here ? One wrong move can cost everything.

Perhaps he should have allowed himself to have been martyred, killed in cold blood despite fighting to prevent it. He would have been the last of the Ruizes ; they’d have been remembered for not going down easily. Now ? He thinks a wrong glance cast could mean his throat will be slit.

You don’t seem so ambitious to me.

He supposes most won't have seen it. Tiberius knows — Tiberius has heard him ask over and over for something to do, something bigger and better, with meaning, and so has Vivianne, he would be remiss to forget her — but everyone else ? He doesn’t suppose it’s important enough information for his sponsor to pass along that he wants to do more, so he rationalizes that most think he’s just a good little soldier-to-be, keeping his head down and toes in line. It’s not time for people to fear him, not just yet. That time will come.

“ Then maybe my biggest mistake was that lie. ”

Para Sample

He has been being followed for sometime now. It is always a shadow in the periphery of his vision, disappearing when he turns to see, a jacket billowing behind someone who had just walked out of frame. Piero wonders if this should make him nervous. He’s considered it, the idea that someone must want him dead to end the Ruiz family once and for all. They came for his parents, now it’s his turn. It’s a horrifying thought at first light, but there is something dangerously satisfying to him within it, at the idea of someone considering him that necessary to end. Perhaps it’s dark and twisted, but not all boys born to wear a crown come out golden.

Nearly a week passes, and by now he’s on edge. Every knock on the door of the shitty motel he’s staying in, every blow of wind against the glass windows, sets him on edge. There are purple circles under his eyes, dark as can be. He hasn’t been sleeping well. He tosses and turns, his deepest worries allowed to fester and grow in unguarded dreams, until he wakes unrested. He can’t go on like this much longer. He’s wondered if it’s worth it to flee Spain, to call on distant relatives, begging on bent knees for salvation and charity. His own pride sets him straight. Cowardice is not an option. Ruiz blood has reigned over Spain for generations. He will not be the one to bring that to an end, bringing shame to his name and the memory of his parents.

It’s just past three in the morning when he hears the turn of the doorknob. He sits up straight in the rickety armchair in the corner, his eyes adjusting to the darkened room, and he stares and he waits. He considers running. There’s a window in the bathroom, already open. He’s slender enough to squeeze through it if he really wants to, he’s given thought to it already — the doorknob rattles again, a thump echoes through the room as something hits the wood of the door — but he thinks to himself he doesn’t have the time. If he tries it, he’ll be caught halfway out. He cannot flee if it will lead inevitably to his demise. It’s embarrassing and shameful and wouldn’t do. Even in the face  of death, Piero is as proud as ever.

The moments before the door cracks open, broken by the weight of another’s body, seem to last forever. He thinks of himself. He thinks of all the things he has yet to do. He thinks about his parents, their dreams and expectations for him. This becomes painfully clear: he cannot die without a fight. This is his moment. No matter the outcome, someone will remember the Ruizes. They were once noble and strong, but they didn’t allow their fire to go out so easily. It’s all he can do.

The door breaks, and he’s on his feet finally. The room is still dark but he can see motion in the darkness. He will let his attacker come to him. To tire himself out, to make all motion, seems like it’d be a mistake. Though he’s expecting it, the first hit knocks all of the air out of his lungs. Another hit lands, then another. Finally, something snaps within him. Elbows in, chin down. That’s what his mother taught him. He’s wild and frenzied, suddenly hits aren’t met with pause, and he begins throwing blow after blow, some hitting, some not. He’s all in. There is no hesitation, not anymore. It’s become apparent, right then, after this week of waiting, that perhaps another motivation is a fear of death.

It’s not an unreasonable thing. He is barely nineteen, hardly an adult, barely lived. He thinks there is so much more for him to do, to see and to experience. In his head, his mantra becomes I will not die today. Over and over, he says it to himself, despite blows hitting his body, his own strikes meeting their targets, muscles pounding against flesh.

Thoughts continue to rush through his mind. Why is he fighting ? For his parents. Why does he need to ? They’re dead. There are tears welled up in his eyes, out of pain and anger and grief. They shouldn’t be dead. They should be here. He shouldn’t be fighting. A choke sob escapes through swelling lips, but he doesn’t let himself falter. This is life or death, and he is doing everything he can to choose life.

His mouth tastes of iron and salt, but it isn’t from his own body. A fist met his lips, teeth scraped against gentle flesh, and Piero had drawn first blood. Though there were bruises forming on his own body already, though his muscles ache and scream, there is something satisfying about that. All he can do is manage to stay standing, quick on his feet, landing in jabs where he can.

The sounds in the room are heavy breathing and the noise of flesh hitting flesh. He wonders if the neighbors have been disturbed. He wonders if they care.

He isn’t sure how long has passed. He isn’t sure how much longer he can last. This fight, this rush of adrenaline coursing through him, it’s all new. Before this, it had always been fights that ended when someone hit the ground or time was up. Never had stakes been so high. A part of him is screaming for it to stop ; another wonders why this is only the first time. There’s something fulfilling in it, and maybe that’s monstrous, but Piero thinks that maybe he was born to be brutal and bloodthirsty. For so long, he had been charming and a pseudo-intellectual, clever and cunning. There had been merit to that, yes, but this ? Every fist that connects with skin sends a rush through him, a thrill like never before.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed when the man takes a step back from him, a thrown swing causing him to fall off balance. For a second, his heart leaps to his throat and he thinks this is it. But the man doesn’t take the misstep as an opportunity. Instead, he’s looking at him, interest crossing his features. Piero doesn’t let his fists fall to his side, he doesn’t know why the man has stopped, and he is too in the moment to care. He takes the chance the man doesn’t and swings, his fist meeting the man’s jaw. It lands with a satisfying thwack, but again the man doesn’t retaliate.

“ That’s enough. ”

Piero can’t help but flinch under the tone of resolve and authority, but when he looks up again, the man is still staring at him. No, he is studying. Piero can’t fathom what he can be looking for or why their fight has stopped. His body is screaming, surely if he wakes tomorrow the pain will have increased tenfold, and his most basic reaction is still fight, fight, fight.

He’s winding up his fist again but again the man speaks. “ I said, enough. ”

Piero knows when words spoken are no longer suggestions — when instead they become commands. His fists fall, his shoulders do, too. His expression turns petulant, childlike in its quick and open displeasure.

He is silent, waiting — for what ? He wonders briefly. It could be death and damnation that awaits him. A part of him, however, thinks differently. He has never been idyllic, seeing the world through rose-colored glasses with glee and a grin, but something inside him is waiting not for death’s hand to grip him.

Instead, he waits. Blood is rushing through his ears still, his pulse is throbbing. Finally, finally —

“ Sit down, boy. Let’s talk. ”

Extras:

FAST FACTS

( i looked up spanish naming customs for this and i might have gotten it right but i might not have i need to do more reading to be 100% sure but i still wanted to include it )

→ Full Name: Piero Ruiz Lorca

→ Mother: Marcella Blanca Lorca de Ruiz

→ Father: Piero Ruiz Zapatero

→ Siblings: None

→ Birthday: July 12th ; this makes him a Cancer

→ Hometown: Cordoba, Spain

→ Dominant Character Traits: harsh, ambitious, bloodthirsty, rash, driven,  

HEADCANONS

001. For generations now, men wore the name Piero, his grandfather the third, Piero the fifth. There were expectations to meet, legacies to exceed. Live up to your namesake. Piero’s father was speaking of his own father at the time and, while this weight of that bore heavily down, the young boy could only think of becoming instead like his father. His grandfather died before memories of him solidified in a young child’s head, and so he only knew of him through tales and rumors. For his father, though, he watched as all stood when he walked into a room, his presence commanding respect, his reputation demanding it. While his hands were stained bloodied red, he was a beacon of light that people looked to, he captured attention easily. Once he understood, Piero craved that same state of existence. The children he grew up around, he had their attention, but in a different way. They whispered about him when his back was turned, they ducked their heads and left the room once he entered. It was a shame, really, but he was sure he would grow into his father’s shoes, filling the role the elder Ruiz did easily. For some time, he believed he was doing exactly that. And then, his parents were slaughtered, and the role he had to fill was that of a ghost. Now that he is human once more, as part of the Capulets and their crew, he feels like he once did as a child, unliked and not very seen. It’s digging at him, shoving splinters under already broken nails, causing him to grit his teeth and try a thousand times harder to earn a little bit of the damned respect he so desperately craves. It’s one of the few things that his father told him to do, this living up to his namesake. His father might be dead, rotting in the ground, with most of his words forgotten to time and space, but his spectral voice lives on in Piero’s head.

002. I have this image of Piero, maybe no older than fifteen, sixteen, at a table surrounded by compatriots of his parents. An older man, in his fifties, or perhaps, his sixties, is chewing tobacco. It’s disgusting. His gums are coated in black spit and when he smiles there are specks on his teeth. Piero cannot hide his disdain. But he’s chewing something, too. With all of his egotism, his thoughts that he is better than those before, he’s found a better option. Mint. It’s fresh and better and — the adults around him, most find him insufferable. For good reason. Anyway, it’s stupid and dumb, but god, I imagine it’s a habit he hasn’t broken. It also means mojitos are his favorite cocktail. No, I won’t elaborate on this or give any good reason for it besides please, I want it, and it’s just youthful arrogance, you know ? Before Verona, before his parents died, I feel like he had just come into himself — he felt sure and he was certain that life was grand. Era una vida tan buena. He was cocky and a little … I don’t know. Smarmy ? That’s not quite the word I want, but god, Piero was living each day as it came. Nothing could faze him. He lived under the shield of his parents and their name, of his own youth. There was privilege in that. He had seen the taste of power and luxe that his parents’ world — the one he was set to inherit once he was of age — and it delighted him. He revelled in it. He wouldn’t have to unlearn his innate cruelties, his hubris. He was a prince set to ascend, his crown was never askew.

003. As a child, he was raised not only to be smart, wisened by words of the experiences and the words in books, but to be cultured as well. His mother took him to parties with him on her arm, where his smiles never quite reached his eyes under the coos and remarks of her friends. He talked when spoken to, he never raised his voice. He could be charming when he needed to be, grins and chubby-cheeked, with words uttered that they desperately wanted to hear. He never enjoyed them, especially not when his parents would slip away into back rooms to have their own meetings. He would wait resting under the doorknob, eyes desperately seeking for some revelation under the door’s crack, ears yearning for words through the keyhole. The door would open at midnight, if not later, and he would fall into the room because of how he’d been leaning against the door. On the rainiest of days with no other plans, they would find themselves lost in museums all over the continent ( they had money, and while they didn’t quite flaunt it, they didn’t have qualms about traveling ). Beautiful things never caught his eye. They were nice, sure; but they were idle and dull and fleeting in his mind. Were his mother not guiding him ( in another life, one without bloodlust and bloodshed, she would have been a curator — a stunning one, establishing beautiful collections that many would travel to. alas, this is not our story ), he would have been lost in statues of gore, in paintings of wars and hatred. There was something about them that caught his attention and never let go. Is there beauty in being brutal ? Piero would say so.

004. The Ruiz home was decorated with exorbitant quantities of flowers while Piero lived there with his parents — why wouldn’t it be that way ? Their front for their operations was a massive floral establishment, it was only fitting for their home to be decorated accordingly. As a child, he loved their scent filling the halls and rooms — roses and lilies and all sorts of magnificent blooms. They were pretty and they weren’t long-lasting, but they were always something that represented his family, and he would be remiss to say a part of him wasn’t fond of them. However, from the day his parents died, all he can remember besides their shouts in frantic Spanish is the scent of blood and flowers. Now, any breath of anything floral makes him gag. It’s unfortunate.

005. The first time he held a gun — the first time he did so with meaning, it loaded, intended to be used against another — he was fourteen. He followed behind his mother, into a meeting with a man who owed the Capulets money. She knew he was unlikely to run or cause a fuss ( he had pride and character, his mother told him, and though he had wronged them, only a coward would have fled or refused his fate ) and thought it perfect for Piero’s first attendance. He stood behind his mother, just beside her shoulder, and listened as she talked. He stood on the balls of his feet, eager and ready for his chance to do something — anything. It never came, much to his disappointment. His mother said everything she needed to. She demanded payment. The man refused, citing he couldn’t. His mother nodded, then she fired one shot into the middle of his head. They left quickly after that, someone would be coming to clean up the mess, and the weight of Piero’s gun felt heavy in his hands having gone unfired.

006. He has nightmares. Nobody knows — he refuses to tell anyone for fear of it being seen as weakness or a vulnerability — but surviving two assassination attempts ? It should come as no surprise that it’s affected his psyche. But there are nights, more often than he’d like, that he wakes up, thrashing, sweat-coated legs and arms tangled up in bedsheets, and his heart is beating in frantic panic. It takes a moment for Piero to realize that his life is in no danger ( at least, not at that specific point in time ) and then he lets his head fall back to the pillow. The days after, he finds himself more on edge than normal, dark-circled eyes narrowed and angry.

PINTEREST BOARD

Rambly Bits That Didn’t Fit Anywhere Nicely But Still Provide Notion Of Character And I Didn’t Want To Delete Permanently For Fear Of Regretting That Decision Later

2. His parents were not good people. They never had hope of cleaning the blood off of their hands and fingers, but they never had desire to burn them clean. At his birth, he was blessed by aunts and uncles in hopes he’d have a fraction of his parents’ abilities — their cruelty, their decisiveness, their skill with gun and blade. He grew up in a home that never knew weak submission ; it was eat or be eaten, and he learned that quickly. He watched friends of his parents cry for mercy after failures — ones he didn’t understand in the moment, not until years later, when he crept downstairs in the midnight hours to watch their meetings through stair railings — and he watched as they were met with slaps to cheeks and sometimes worse. He was too young to understand the permanence of death, but he understood that a hole in a man’s temple meant he was never getting up. He saw the cool poise his father wore as he held a smoking gun — he imagined himself, older, in the same position. He echoed the steely edges his parents’ voices took ; he repeated the words they said that meant nothing to him until his cadence and tone matched theirs.

3. His parents praised him while he was in school when teachers and tutors reported that he was harsh in the face of sadness or whining and unable to handle the wrong answers of others.  It only worsened ( bettered ? ) as he grew older. His harshness seemed less precocious and began to unsettle others. Tutors and teachers began to dislike being in the same room as him. He wore a smile that said let me do as I please and his temper echoed I mean it. He asked them questions about things they didn’t know, baiting them with their insufficiencies until they had no other option but to quit. His parents would only hire someone new with no question. No one was spared. He asked personal and probing questions until they shifted in their seats. He was like a needle under their skin, sharp and uncomfortable.  )

4. Being a part of something bigger than himself. Isn’t that what a king does — or in Piero’s case, a princeling ? They are a large part of their kingdom, surely, and, though they might be its head, it cannot exist without its body. There needs to be support. When he was young, being a god amongst the other children wasn’t enough. He wanted something more. He wanted to be something more. He knew his parents did something that made them special, and their dis-including him ( for whatever reason it could be, he wondered night after night, staring up at the stucco ceiling, sleepless and agonizing ) just wouldn’t work for him. He needed to be involved, he needed to know. His knowing parts of their secrets, the whispers he overhead, was enough to build up his patience until it came to know more.

5. He has his eyes set on the crown his family once wore ; he was born and bred into a vicious line.

6. It’s a game of chess. Where once he was perhaps a knight or a bishop aside his parents’ queenhood, someone who could advise and assist, he feels now hardly more than a pawn. There are others in charge and he acts in their stead to do their bidding. He knows it’s what he must do. He must build his power back up, but gods above, the wait is agonizing. He wants to feel the rush of adrenaline that power brings surge through him again. He wants to make his own choices and decisions.

7. His peers had it worse. Unlike teachers whose authority he undermined, he knew he was better and above his cohort — a king amongst sheep. He ruled conversations even when no word slipped from his mouth. They needed to entertain him or he’d find another way to spend his time. ( A brief interlude: his “ friends ” didn’t like him but were scared of telling him no — also, they were most likely the children of his parents’ friends and associates, so there was need to make good with Piero. ) He’d pit them against each other with lies and rumors he’d overheard or made up. It was interesting to see them scramble, like ants under a magnifying glass. So long as he was amused, where was the harm ?

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Remarks: ‘Little Cute Boy Ozpin’ AU. What would the story have been like if Ozpin was reincarnated as a 14-year-old boy but was still his own character?

greenfablesinverness replied to your post “AU Where Oscar only went to Mistral cause his uncle Ozpin had written...”

That “Ozpin was originally a de-aged Oscar” actually makes a lot of sense looking back at the beginning of the series. I think this was the original idea, but after Monty died Miles and Kerry felt too uncomfortable since BAM, this is Ruby’s love interest, and it might come off as creepy, so Oscar became a totally knew character entirely.

Squiggles Answers:

Hmm, makes sense. However even if that were true and the original story was for Ozpin to be reincarnated as a teenager after death without Oscar as part of his story, I don’t think the original intention by the CRWBY Writers and the show creator would’ve been to make Ozpin Ruby’s potential love interest. If anything, it makes more sense if the intention was to have Ozpin still be his own character after rebirth and have Ruby gain her love interest as a new character with or without it tying into Ozpin’s story.

As a matter of fact, y’know what? They could have easily done both. Did you know that the CRWBY Writers could have still given us the same Ozpin-reincarnation storyline being intertwined with Oscar’s without having to make them share a body? Let me explain how.

Oz the Kid

Just have Ozpin reincarnate as a young 13-14 year old boy with amnesia to be found in Mistral on the outskirts of the Pine Family farm where he’s discovered by a young Oscar Pine.

Instead of Oscar being inspired by Dorothy Hale from the Wizard of Oz, imagine if… our veteran farm boy was based off of the woodsman who saved Red Riding Hood from the Big Bad Wolf. That could’ve been a nice way to tie Oscar to Ruby’s character which could’ve additionally been used to foreshadow their potential relationship.

Instead of Oscar being Ozpin’s newest form and successor, he could’ve been the old wizard’s young protector. Just as how the woodsman saved Little Red Riding Hood, Oscar could’ve saved a reincarnated young Ozpin and that’s how the two could’ve met. Humour me to rewrite Oscar and Ozpin’s story a wee bit.

Imagine an AU where instead Ozpin’s curse was that he returns as a teenaged boy with no memory of his past self and it was the purpose of the members of his Inner Circle to find and train him back to his former self. This would explain why Qrow had Ozpin’s cane. He was the scout. The proverbial eyes in the sky whose primary responsibility was to search and find the missing Ozpin in the event of reincarnation.

Speaking of Qrow Branwen, what I found odd about V5 is that in the scene where Oscar meets RNJR for the first time after helping a happily drunk Qrow back to their residence in Mistral, Qrow kept muttering that he found Ozpin. As if he had been searching for him since his death. While this provided us with a comical scene and cute introduction into the group finally meeting Oscar, in the context of continuity from V4, it doesn’t really add up.

Back in V4, Qrow was never actually shown searching for Ozpin. He’d been following RNJR since the end of V3. If Qrow had been looking for Oz the entire time during his side of the story for V4 but then later deviates from his duty to Oz after learning that RNJR was being hunted by Tyrian Callows; then that would have made more sense. Not to mention that it would have tied into the joke in V5 a lot cleaner, right?

I know it’s meant to be one of those gags where a character claims to have fulfilled a task that the audience knew they never accomplished. Y’know like that ‘My job here is done’ meme with Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask.

Nonetheless, that was one nit-pick for me with the writing for V5 because it’s a joke played for laughs that can just as easily double as a small  plot hole. But then again, this is just me.

Back to my AU: in this version of the story, let’s say Oscar is 16-years-old instead of the titular 14. Still young but this time he’s the exact same age as Ruby instead of the two being two years ago---thus killing any potential arguments surrounding the two year age difference.

Oscar’s original background story could still be kept. I do like the concept of Oscar Pine being a 16-year-old farm bred boy who lived in the nowhere of Anima on the outskirts of the Kingdom of Mistral alone with his aunt on their family farm. In my version of the story, Oscar actually has ties to huntsman that he’s fully aware of. His parents were huntsman who once fought bravely for their kingdom but died in the line of duty years prior to the story. This left a young Oscar in the care of his widowed aunt who raised him for another half of his life and who he came to love like a second mother. 

In this AU, Oscar was originally meant to go off to Haven Academy. He had even already excelled at combat school and had passed the entrance exam qualifying him as a student. His aunt was very proud of him when she heard the news as much as he was. Oscar had always wanted to be a huntsman following in his parents’ footsteps to become a hero. However a week before Oscar was meant to depart for Mistral, his aunt suddenly fell very ill. 

Though the neighbourhood doctors did their best to help, in the end, Oscar’s aunt was diagnosed with an illness that rendered her bedridden and too weak to take care of herself. Since she had no one else to look after her, Oscar decided to abandon Haven. 

Though it would mean giving up on his dream, it was a sacrifice the young lad was willing to make for the woman who loved him like he was her own son. Oscar felt morally obligated to look after his aunt even if it meant living the rest of his life taking care of her if he needed too.

Though his aunt was content on having him care for her over a random stranger, that didn’t stop her from feeling remorseful over forcing her own nephew to abandon his own life for hers and the guilt hindered her more than her disease did.

But no matter how many times his aunt used to incline that Oscar move on with his life and not worry about her, the boy would stubbornly ignore her wishes and chose to stay by her side. She needed him and in that moment, Oscar needed to care for her.

Even if it meant spending the rest of his life as a farmhand in Mistral, it was a choice Oscar would willing make for his family because at the end of the day, she was all he had and that was all that mattered to him.

But Oscar’s quite life took another sharp change when, one day, while tending to the farm like he usually did on mornings, he heard a sudden strange noise come from the woods outside the farm. Thinking it might be another one of those occasional small Grimm that liked to wander onto his family property from time to time, Oscar quickly grabbed the axe he had planned on using to chop some wood for his aunt and ran straight towards the outskirts in the direction of the noise.

To Oscar’s surprise, his discovery was not what he was expecting. Wondering the woods alone outside the farm was a young boy. His hair was as silver as starlight and to make the situation more awkward, the boy was also found naked as he was born. The lad couldn’t have been older than fourteen years old though he was rather small and lanky for his age. The minute Oscar called out to the kid; he suddenly keeled over and fainted into Oscar’s arms.

This boy is in fact the reborn Professor Ozpin back as a young boy. However if the story was to be played out like an episode then it would have ended on a cliff-hanger with the audience not knowing the true identity of this young boy who happened to cross Oscar’s path.

The next time the story picks back up, Oscar is forced to care for this young stranger who doesn’t have any recollection of who he is and where he came from.

When Oscar probed the young child with the obvious questions---Where did he come from? How did he end up near his farm? What’s his name?

The only thing Ozpin could tell Oscar, at least the part that made sense to the young farm boy, is that he is Ozpin. Anything else and he would get this pained look on his face as if trying to remember something important. After staying a couple of days on the Pine Family’s farm, young Ozpin eventually regains some of his memories and is able to tell Oscar that he needs to go to Mistral; saying that he has a ‘friend’ over there who could help him.

But his memories come in spasms. One minute he’s an inkling of his old self, remembering important details that he’s able to relate to Oscar. Of course none of it makes sense to Oscar but at least Ozpin is able to tell him. However when Oscar would ask Ozpin to make sense of everything he told him, he would then revert back to the other side. The side of him that was basically a helpless young boy, lost and confused.

Oscar tries to convince Ozpin to stay with him and his aunt on the farm until they could figure out a way to help him get back to where he came from. However, when he’s lucid, Ozpin kept insisting that he needed to leave for to Mistral immediately.

In my AU, Ozpin’s reincarnation suffered some complications.

Let’s say…each time Ozpin reincarnates, in order for the process to work successfully; meaning for him to come back younger but with all of his memories intact, it requires a lot of magic.

Let’s say, Ozpin depleted a lot of his magic during his last stand against Fall Maiden Cinder. As a result, this fight left him with less magic than he needed to reincarnate successfully. So his rebirth was botched.

Despite successfully returning in his adolescent form, his mind and memories became as shattered as a jigsaw puzzle.

Imagine…the Professor Ozpin we all know only with the short term memory akin to Dory from Finding Nemo. Rather than being whole, this new Ozpin is almost like two minds in one. One mind is Ozpin himself---he knows who he is and is quite coherent enough to recount his countless eons of memories.

But on the other mind, he is just a helpless little boy, frightened, confused 200% of the time and needing someone to care for him while also recounting whatever actions his ‘other self’ does---the total opposite of the man we all know Ozpin to be.

And to make matters worse, it doesn’t help that this new younger Ozpin often slips in and out of both personalities. One minute he could be recounting important info that could be helpful to the given scenario and the next minute, he’s like a naive toddler unable to remember anything.

Ozpin has always been portrayed as the man with all the answers. So can you imagine how daunting it would be especially for all the characters who believe in his wisdom like Qrow if the man with all the answers returned as a crippled version of himself unable to help anyone because his mind is too fragmented from his failed rebirth process?

I like this idea because it gives a new perspective of Ozpin while also presenting a new purpose to Oscar Pine.

Y’see in this version of the story, instead of Oscar being Ozpin’s successor and the two being forced to share a body; Oscar would unintentionally be drafted in as a member of Ozpin’s Inner Circle tasked with protecting him during times of reincarnation. Oscar essentially becomes Ozpin’s guardian---his protector as the two journey toward Mistral to rendezvous with one of Ozpin’s allies.

And this time, when Oscar leaves home to go with Ozpin to Mistral where he would also start being trained to become a huntsmen, it’s his choice and something he wanted to do from the start before he met Ozpin.  

If the CRWBY Writers wanted a way to reincarnate Ozpin, have him come back young while still making Oscar his own person, they could have done it like that. But for now, I guess it’ll make for a pretty cool AU.

 As to why Ozpin would reincarnate in Mistral near Oscar’s home of all places, lemme hit you with a solid explanation using some canon evidence. Remember the World of Remnant episode on the Four Maidens? Remember the old wizard who lived like a hermit in the middle of the nowhere?

Though it was never confirmed if the hermit lived in Mistral per say, for the sake of this AU of mine, let’s say whenever Ozpin died he had a tendency to respawn near common areas his past lives once resided in. So let’s say Oscar’s family farm was built over the same property that was once the land of Ozpin’s predecessor---the old hermit wizard and creator of the Four Maidens.

Though it was never confirmed if the hermit lived in Mistral per say, for the sake of this AU of mine, let’s say whenever Ozpin died he had a tendency to respawn near common areas his past lives once resided in. So let’s say Oscar’s family farm was built over the same property that was once the land of Ozpin’s predecessor---the old hermit wizard and creator of the Four Maidens.

That’s sounds like a cool way to tie Oscar to one of Ozpin’s previous lives and it can even work in the canon AU. But for now, let’s leave it like a cool idea.

The Wizard and the Farm Boy

Imagine…in this AU of mine, Ozpin living with Oscar and Auntie Pine for a short time---probably a couple of weeks giving him enough time to regain some of his more important memories while growing close to the Mistralian farm folk a lot better.

Imagine if…during this time, Ozpin shared a small private talk with Auntie Pine. Going to sound heart-wrenching but the concept I had is that in this AU, Ozpin met Oscar around the time his sick aunt was on her last days.

In her final moment, while Oscar was outside tending to the farm as always, Auntie Pine called Ozpin to her bedside and asked him for a small favour to an elderly woman. At that time he was himself and not his other ‘child-like’ persona who had been christened ‘Ozzy’ by Oscar; just so that he could tell the two minds apart. Auntie Pine beckoned Ozpin to help her write a letter. A letter that she wanted him to give to Oscar.

While Ozpin is helping Auntie Pine, at some point, she turns weakly to the old wizard and lets the truth slip to him about her little condition. I imagined their conversation would go something like this:

Auntie Pine: …I’m sure you’ve noticed but I’m not a well woman. In fact, I’m dying. Have been for some time now and that’s the cold, hard truth, plain as day. And…I don’t think I have much time left.

Ozpin: …I’m…sorry. I---Does Oscar…

Auntie Pine: ---No. I’ve been…trying to think of a more…delicate way to break the news to him for months. It’s hard…not to mention exhausting trying to tell the truth to someone who only wants to hear the good version of the truth all the time. He…used to listen to me y’know. But ever since I got sick, I feel like he listens more to my illness than me. Sounds crazy, right? He’s always been the stubborn type. Just like his father. But he’s got a big heart. He’s…a good boy and he’s…going to make an amazing huntsman one day. Probably one of the best this world has ever seen. But he can’t do that so long as I’m here…holding him back. And I’m ready to go. Heavens, I’ve been preparing to go for a very long time. But I’m worried…no…I’m afraid that if I go now, it might…break him. And I don’t want him to break. I saved him from that the first time after his parents died so…the last thing I want is to be the one responsible for him falling apart…

Ozpin: …Ms Pine…

Auntie Pine: ---Call me Emma, please. You don’t have to be so formal.

Ozpin: …Emma, you should…talk to Oscar.

Auntie Pine: …I told you. He won’t listen to me. But he will listen… to you. I know he’ll listen to you. I’ve heard your talks when Oscar thinks I’m just sleeping. *chuckles* For some strange reason, even with all your crazy talk about magic…and maidens…and people coming back to life and going to the city…he listens to you. Ozpin, I know we haven’t known each other for that long…and I know I have no business asking any personal favours of you. But…you seem like a real level headed young man or…old man, whichever one you prefer. Can you aid an old woman with her final request? Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t let my Oscar fall apart. It’s a lot to ask of a stranger but I like to believe you ended up here with us for a reason…a good reason. One that could change Oscar’s life for the better and give him more than I ever could. So please…I…beg you…please…promise me…

Ozpin: …I…have made more mistakes than any man, woman and child on this planet. I’ve made many promises that I have failed countless of times to uphold. However, in all my lifetimes, this is one promise I swear I’ll do my hardest to keep.

Auntie Pine: *smiling weakly* …You’re a good person Ozpin. I don’t know…what kind of skeletons you have in your closet. But I’ve always prided myself on being a good judge of character. Only a good person would make a promise to a dying woman and shed tears real enough to prove that he’s at least going to try to keep that promise so…thank you…

At this point, Auntie Pine extends a frail finger to touch Ozpin’s cheek as a single tear trailed down his cheek. Ozpin is stunned; not just by the old woman’s gesture but by his own reaction to his emotions. So instead, all he could muster is a silent nod all the while Auntie Pine is beaming at him through a pale face of smiles. Auntie Pine: Tell me…Ozpin…you’ve died before right? Does it…does it get any better…in the afterlife?

Ozpin: …I…I wouldn’t know…but for your sake, I truly hope it does.

Once again, Auntie Pine flashes Ozpin a fragile but contented smile and the old wizard felt his shoulders quake as he finally gave into his own tears.

Auntie Pine: …I think…I think I’m ready to see Oscar now…Can you…can you call him…for me please?

So Auntie Pine passes away after giving her final goodbyes to her beloved nephew. The death, of course, did exactly what Auntie Pine warned Ozpin would happen. It broke Oscar; to the point that he fell into a state of depression. As Oscar once disclosed to Ozpin during his stay, he had no other family. A lot of his past neighbours were either elderly folk who passed away or families who uprooted and moved to the main city. Oscar and his aunt were the only two left from the old neighbourhood. So when it came time for Oscar to bury his aunt, it was to an audience of only Ozpin.

Everyone else was gone. He had no one and for the first time since his parents’ departure, Oscar felt more alone than he ever did in his entire life and the feeling of loneliness devastated him more than the grief.  

At this point, Ozpin had stayed in the Pine residence for a little over two months and he was beginning to turn anxious. He had hoped Qrow would’ve found him by then. However since he didn’t, the old wizard figured something grim must’ve befallen the Branwen man (let’s say this was around the time Qrow had discovered Tyrian Callows was hunting RNJR and had diverted from his search for Oz in order to protect his family and her friends; leading to Qrow getting poisoned and…y’know the rest). This increased Ozpin’s urgency to get to the main kingdom.

Since Qrow hadn’t found him as originally planned, Ozpin had no choice but to journey to Mistral on his own. At least by then, he could rendezvous with the sole Mistral representative in his Inner Circle: Leonardo Lionheart and the two could’ve figured out a way to get in contact with Qrow.

Unfortunately, Ozpin had a problem. Two problems in fact. One, he needed someone to be his guide. Because of his botched rebirth, his memories of how to traverse Mistral were not the best. Not to mention that he wasn’t quite familiar with Oscar’s side of Anima. In this AU, let’s say getting to the train station shown in V4 was a much more perilous trip than what we got for the main series canon.

His only hope was gaining Oscar’s aid in journeying to the nearest train station that would then take them to the Kingdom. This led him to his second problem. Ozpin…did not want to leave Oscar by himself. He couldn’t. Not after the young boy and his family had taken him in the way they did and especially not after what he promised Auntie Pine.

It was then Ozpin made a decision. He was going to take Oscar to Mistral with him. Kill two birds with one stone. That way, Oscar could help him get to the city and Ozpin can keep a watchful eye over the young farm boy. Sounds simple, right?

The only problem was…Oscar refused to go. He just…wanted to remain on the land where his family was buried. Maybe become a hermit left alone to his grievances. It was then when Ozpin saw a connection between himself and Oscar

He was once this same way.

Remember when I said in this AU, Ozpin respawned near the Pine Family Farm because coincidentally the property was the same soil he once lived on alone as a hermit before he met the Maidens?

I like story ideas that in hindsight add up perfectly together. So perhaps this is a nice way to highlight a connection between Oscar and Ozpin for this AU.

I like this idea because I can imagine Ozpin hitting Oscar with the trademark RWBY questions: ‘What’s your favourite fairy tale?’ before telling him the famous The Four Maidens fairy-tale we know of. The twist is that Ozpin would reveal to Oscar that, of course, the fairy tale is true; explaining that the old wizard from the story was him in a past life. Ozpin would admit to Oscar that once upon a time, he too shared his same sentiments of wanting to live alone and isolated from the outside world; believing that a life of solitude was the only purpose left for existence after losing everything he loved.

But it was the kindness of four strangers that ultimately reminded Ozpin of how much more beauty and wonder existed beyond his walls. How his life wasn’t over yet. That he still had a second chance to start anew. Ozpin told Oscar this story in hopes that it would stir him to his senses. Convince him to be his companion on his quest.

It did not unfortunately. Despite his pleas, Oscar still stubbornly refused. This left Ozpin with no choice.

Not wanting to force Oscar to come with him especially in his time of grief, Ozpin solemnly decides to leave him behind and venture on his own. Before leaving, Ozpin gives Oscar the letter Auntie Pine had made him record her final words to Oscar. Of course, Oscar is still acting stubborn and doesn’t even want to read the letter. At this point, Ozpin is out of options and out of time. So he leaves Oscar and begins his own journey.

But as I mentioned earlier, in this AU, Ozpin isn’t familiar with traversing Oscar’s neck of Anima. So even though he left the Pine farm days ago, he eventually got himself lost and ended up wandering aimlessly through the woods for some time. This also led to Ozpin running into the local Grimm inhabiting the area which was a pack of hungry Beowolves. Though Ozpin did his best to combat the ferocious creatures, the old wizard’s luck unfortunately ran out when he reverted to Ozzy in the heat of danger, rendering himself incapable of defend himself further.

To make a long story short, Ozzy is soon rescued by Oscar, much to the child’s surprise. The young farm boy came to Ozzy’s aid wielding a weaponized battle axe which doubled as a Brunswick rifle. I like that as Oscar’s signature weapon in this AU since I talked about it before. Fusing the weapon with fire dust, Oscar torched any oncoming Beowolves attempting to harm Ozzy while sending the others fleeing in a blazing trail of panic.

To make it funny, Ozzy questions Oscar on how he knew where to find him after leaving days ago only for Oscar to respond that since he grew up in the area for most of his life, he knew the woods like the back of his hand so finding Ozpin wasn’t a problem especially since the old wizard had gotten himself lost and had actually been walking in circles for the past few days, much to Ozzy’s embarrassment.

Ozzy then questions Oscar of what made him change his mind about finding him. That’s when Oscar shows Ozpin the letter his aunt had left for him. The teenager apologizes to the old wizard for his behaviour before announcing that he had made up his mind to help him get to Mistral. His Pine pride wouldn’t allow him to allow such a, quote, ‘helpless child’ to wander the dangerous woods all alone even if said child is also a reincarnated 1000+ year old wizard. After all, it was the right thing to do and it’s what Oscar’s Aunt would have wanted him to do.

Despite the initial slip up, Ozpin was more than relieved to have Oscar accompany him. So with that, the two set off towards Mistral together.

 In this AU, part of the story is dedicated to Oscar and Ozpin going through their own journey towards Mistral just like Team RNJR. It isn’t just Ozpin spending time trying to convince Oscar to leave for Mistral before boarding the easy train.

One critique of V4 I’ve seen is the disappointment fans shared about Team RNJR having to make the long journey towards Mistral while all Oscar and Ozpin had to do was hop a train. Never mind that Oscar coincidentally lived within close proximity to a working train station that could instantaneously take him directly to the kingdom citadel.

And never mind that he also coincidentally got through with it despite having no money and needing Hazel Rainart to coincidentally show up at the same train station to help Oscar score a ticket. Yep, all one big coincidinks.

So since this is an AU I’m concocting here, I really like the idea of Ozpin and Oscar going through their own trials and perils on their separate journey to Mistral. They could still hop on a working train and still run into Hazel Rainart along the way for the final part of their Journey to Mistral. I mean RNJR took an airship at the end of their side of the journey which is the next best thing.

But like RNJR, it would’ve been cool to get some travels with Ozpin and Oscar: Fighting more Grimm, giving Oscar more opportunities to show off his capabilities as a huntsmen to protect Ozpin. In this AU, of course.

Not to mention that, since Ozpin wouldn’t have had his signature Oz-cane, I really dig the idea of Oz having to depend solely on utilizing what little magic he had to assist Oscar from time to time.

Referring to the main series now, we’ve never quite seen Ozpin actually perform magic in the canon, have we? We know he’s used his magic before but never actually seen him do it onscreen outside of RWBY Chibi

So imagine how cool it would have been to see a young Ozpin relearning to use his magical powers and this time, we actually get to see him cast spells or whatever the equivalent of performing magic in the RWBY-verse is like. 

I can picture Ozpin or Ozzy casting magic to help him and Oscar get out of tricky situations. Like for example: using magic to conjure up a shield of protection in order to save an overpowered Oscar from a charging Boarbatusk. Y’know like the one he summoned during his clash with Cinder Fall in V3.

Or perhaps using magic to ‘heal’ a serious wound on an injured Oscar by reversing time (like how Rapunzel healed Eugene in Tangled but without the glowing hair and song). Or maybe, just maybe, Ozpin using a wizard mind spell to manipulate someone into handing over a free boarding pass so that he and Oscar could take the train to the city. Those are three ideas.

It’s odd though. Despite Ozpin being confirmed as a legit wizard (a cursed wizard but one nonetheless) and in spite the confirmed existence of magic in Remnant by Ozpin himself, we’ve never actually seen Ozpin perform any feats of magic. Never mind that he used magic to create the Four Maidens and grant the Branwen Twins shapeshifting powers in his past life. Never mind that he did say his magic is finite and dwindling (whether that’s true or not). Still…he’s a wizard! Yes his magic is low but it could be cool to see him do something magical, even if it’s as small as a simple spell.

I don’t expect Ozpin to part the ocean or turn water into wine (although Qrow might enjoy that trick) but…still…it would be cool to see him perform a little something, something magical. Cause y’know…he’s a wizard! My hope is that Oscar is somehow capable of using magic for the main series canon so that we can possibly see some Ozpin magic tricks for V6. Hopefully.

 But for now, I’ll stick with my AU idea.

How would this AU handle the Oscar-Ozpin dynamic?

In this AU of mine, I like the idea of Ozpin and Oscar kinda joint adopting each other in a way. As Ozpin, he decides to take Oscar with him on his journey to Mistral, taking full heed of the promise he made to Auntie Pine that he would ensure the future that her nephew wanted---to become a huntsman; an objective that even Ozpin soon started to believe the boy was strongly capable of as he came to realize Oscar’s potential.

Oscar, in turn, comes to care for Ozpin’s well-being as well and even becomes like his own young protector or Guardian of some kind.

If Oscar was made to be Ozpin’s protector rather than his new vessel as an alternative, then I can definitely see the two sharing a big brother/little brother dynamic. I like the idea of Oscar and Ozpin both being big brothers/proxy dads to one another. One mind provides Oscar (and essentially all the young heroes) with the huntsman training and experience he’s always desired while at the same time, the two build a trusting mentor and apprentice relationship with each other that Ozpin only shares with the closest members of his Inner Circle (such as Glynda and Qrow).

And this dynamic is also transcended into the other side of their relationship where it’s the reverse and Oscar is Ozpin’s caretaker, using his training to protect him when he’s most vulnerable (as Ozzy) while establishing a bond where Oscar actually does look after Ozpin (as Ozzy) despite him being leagues older than him.  

I kind of picture Ozpin and Oscar’s connection in this AU of mine like Kara and Alice from Detroit Become Human.

Originally, both Oscar and Ozpin knew nothing about each other. Only met on coincidence. Yet in some twisted fate, their lives became intertwined and to each other, they suddenly became someone whose well-being they now valued as much as their own and wholeheartedly wanted to help. 

Like I’m imagining both Oz and Oscar both justifying their commitment to helping each other during private talks with Ruby and Qrow. Ozpin is of course talking to Qrow while Oscar is with Ruby.

Oscar to Ruby: 

Oscar: …I don’t think your uncle likes me very much.

Ruby: Don’t be silly. He’s just a little grumpy sometimes…with just you…a lot.  

 Oscar: *laughs* Nice save. Good attempt. But…nah, my aunt trained me well enough to sniff out when someone really doesn’t want me around. And…I think your uncle thinks I shouldn’t be here. I don’t blame him though. He probably thinks I shouldn’t stick around anymore since Oz is back with you guys. Back with his people.

Ruby: You’re his people too. He told us you saved him.

Oscar: I just gave him a place to stay and some food. But…thanks… to both of you for the kind words. I mean, I promised Ozzy I would help him get to the city to meet his friends and I did. I guess…I really have no business sticking around here.

 Ruby: Well…then why are you still here?

 Oscar: …Uhh…I guess… one of the reasons is because of Haven Academy. Lionheart told me that he still has records of my old acceptance letter into the academy. Said…if I still wanted, I can actually become a student here.  It’s a chance for me to finally live my dream of becoming a huntsman which is all I could ever ask for.

But if we’re being honest, the real reason I want to stay is because of Ozzy. Ozpin…needs me. Well…maybe not the version of him that’s a 1000 year old magical wizard guarded by a tall, rugged, mean-faced bird man wielding a giant scythe. Uh…no offense?

 Ruby: *giggles* None taken.

Oscar: But…the part of him that’s just a little kid y’know. When he’s…just a boy---just Ozzy, he reminds me so much of myself before I went to live with my aunt. After my parents died, I was so scared of being alone but my aunt made me feel loved and safe. She stood by me because she knew I needed her. That’s why I want to stay for Ozzy. Ozpin may not need me but Ozzy does and so long as he wants me here, I’ll do everything in my power to protect him.

Ozpin to Qrow

Qrow: Oz, why’d you bring that kid with ya? Who even is this kid? Where’d you even find him?

Ozpin: That kid’s name is Oscar. He’s from Mistral but more outside the kingdom and…he saved my life when you failed to find me, I’m afraid.

Qrow: Well why is he still here? *takes a swig from his flask* Shouldn’t he have gone back to his little house on the prairie now that we’ve met up with Leo?

Ozpin: He’s here because I want him to be here. My reincarnation may have…suffered a few unsettling complications but I wasn’t totally off my rocker when I told you I wanted Oscar to join my Circle. He may be young but within my short time with him, he’s shown me that he has tremendous potential. So with some training and proper guidance, I believe Oscar is destined for greatness.

Besides I…sorta also promised his dead aunt I would look out for him after she died. Can’t break a promise like that now, can I?”

Qrow: *through mid-sip* You did what?

Ozpin: It’s…a long story.

Qrow: Great. So basically you picked up a stray.

Ozpin: A stray with potential. Besides, I took you in once didn’t I? And look how well you turned out.

Qrow quirks a brow at Ozpin while taking another long swig from his flask. At this, Ozpin shook his head and sighed.

Ozpin: …Well…I can’t take full credit for all your quirks.

Qrow: Yeah but at least I grew up already knowing how to fight? What does Farmer Brown know how to do besides swing an axe? Anyone can swing an axe. Heck I can do that blindfolded with both my hands tied behind my back on my worst day. Besides… he’s so…young. He’s younger than I was when I joined the Circle. Ozpin: *amused tone* Why Qrow Branwen, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a little jealous of Oscar.

Qrow: *almost chokes on his flask* Me? Jealous of that pipsqueak? Oz, I just recovered from my last hangover, please don’t make me vomit. I just don’t like the way he thinks he’s all high and mighty just because he’s the glorified babysitter to your other half.

Ozpin: Oscar isn’t like at all. If anything he’s been the most mature for his age…definitely more mature than certain people I’m looking at right now.

Qrow: *condescending tone* He calls you Ozzy. What is that?

Ozpin: *calmly* It’s just a nickname. A nickname both Ozzy and Ozpin don’t mind.

Qrow: *grumbles* I also don’t like the way he keeps chumming up to Ruby lately.

Ozpin: Really Qrow? He’s 16. She’s 16. They’re allowed to be friends.

Qrow: She’s my niece! Don’t encourage your babysitter to be any kind of ‘friends’ with my niece, capish?

Ozpin: *exasperated*  …Fine. Are there any other complaints you have regarding my ‘babysitter’?

Qrow: Just one. I don’t think this kid’s got the real chops to be a huntsman, let alone someone who’s meant to be a part of your Circle.

Ozpin: Is that right? Well then since we’re both being honest here, I think I have the perfect solution for that. You’re an experienced huntsman Qrow. Previously a teacher at Signal Academy who trained your own niece to be a powerful scythe wielder like yourself. Not to mention you’re one of the few people in this world I would trust with my life.

Qrow: *burps* What’s your point?

Ozpin: You don’t think Oscar’s got what it takes. Then help him. Train him and bring out the best in him; as I did once for you.

In the main series, Qrow is currently Ozpin’s right hand for the Mistral Arc going towards Atlas (since Glynda, his original right hand from the Beacon Trilogy is stuck holding down the fort in Vale with Professor Port and Dr. Oobleck). But what would be cute is if Oscar also unintentionally became Ozpin’s right hand but…more so to young Ozzy, Ozpin’s ‘child-like’ other half in my AU.

I like the idea of both Qrow and Oscar being Ozpin’s right hand men and the two butting heads at first. While Oscar is perfectly okay with the times Ozpin needs to be alone with Qrow since the older huntsman is one of Ozpin’s most trusted.

For this AU, Qrow secretly harbours a bit of jealousy toward Oscar who was only picked as Ozpin’s newest guardian because of the complications of his reincarnation. Whenever Ozpin reverts back to Ozzy, he’s completely intimidated by Qrow and won’t let the Branwen man talk or even be alone with him unless Oscar is present.

In this version of the story, Ozzy is very attached to Oscar. Like a nervous child clinging to their parent.

It’s a different dynamic from the show canon but that’s why I like it as an AU. Plus I really dig the notion of Qrow being tasked to personally train Oscar by Ozpin as he is the newest member of his Circle and his youngest Guardian. I like the parallel of Oscar to Qrow because once upon a time, Qrow was in Oscar’s shoes as the original youngest member of his Circle along with his sister. However, unlike Raven, Ozpin took a greater shine to Qrow due to his loyal nature and provided him with more training and trust; allowing the two to forge a friendship stronger than any relationship Oz had with his remaining Guardians.

I like the idea of Qrow originally being jealous of Oscar only to eventually warm up to him after realizing their commonalities. So in the end, Qrow becomes a surrogate father figure to Oscar and learns to care for him as much as Ozpin did; recognizing his potential as well.

It’s a nice way to have Qrow and Oscar bond through their ties to Ozpin but without Qrow treating Oscar as Ozpin most of the time. As an AU, it can work.

How would this AU handle the RoseGarden relationship/romance?

Well for starters Oscar and Ruby will be the same age of 16 years old in this AU. Oscar would also be his own character. For this AU, I love the idea of Ruby slowly falling in love with Oscar purely for his, quote, ‘big heart’ after observing  his caring nature towards ‘Ozzy’, the childlike persona of Ozpin’s younger form.

Instead of Oscar being based off of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, he’d be based off of the Woodcutter from the Little Red Riding Hood fairy-tale. Though Oscar is Ozpin’s protector who saved Ozpin, his fairy-tale inspiration would share the same origins with Ruby for this AU. That’s the idea I had.

So in conclusion:

This is my first time coming up with an AU idea for RWBY. And for what it’s worth, I really love what I pumped out. It makes me kinda wish things had been done sorta like this in the main series canon. Buuuut... that doesn’t mean I’m not excited to see how the CRWBY Writers will handle developing Oscar and Ozpin’s dynamic in the main series.

They definitely have created a very unique and interesting character in Oscar Pine and his current predicament with Professor Ozpin. So as a proud Pinehead, I’m curious to see how it’s going to be for the following seasons especially with how they plan on balancing development and character growth for both sides of the Man with Two Souls while also showing progress with their relationships; both within Ozpin and Oscar’s ties to each other as well as the other characters they encounter.

But until I get to see more of the planned story for my two favourite characters in RWBY (Oscar and Ozpin), I guess for now I’ll toss out deas for AUs feautring one or two alternate ways the CRWBY could’ve written Ozpin and Oscar’s story; starting with this one. I think my ‘Little Cute Boy Ozpin’ AU is my best and favourite one written down so far.

It definitely puts together some of the best ideas I could think of in the event that the story had been written like that. Besides if it doesn’t work as an AU for RWBY then it would make one hell of an original adventure inspired by RWBY with maybe a few influences from the Wizard of Oz tale.

Wouldn’t mind playing around with a story like that if I ever felt up to the task. But who knows? For now, it’s just a really neat AU idea brought to you by the squiggle meister. Hope you fellow RWBY fam like it.

  More Squiggles’ RWBY Content

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018)

[sparda3g]

Tokyo Ghoul:re Chapter 144 Review

Note: Another long post. Blame this series!

The end isn’t truly the end after all. The thought of part 3 isn’t out of possibility; however, the story of :re continues to set up an explosive end that will change the landmark forever. No doubt we have a volume worth left to tell the story of Kaneki and his inner struggle to change. It’s a change that he has no choice but to make it so, but at what cost will it toll. The chapter is not the end for a gratifying delivery and the intensity to leave the fans shocked.

I know plenty of fans got incredibly irate from the last chapter and while I do understand, there’s one thing that they shouldn’t do: jump to conclusion. This chapter has done a 180 in terms of exploiting the character and creates the strong foundation of its overall arc. Therefore, the initial rant and possibly insult to the writer is all for naught and shouldn’t happen in the first place. That said it’s not late to hop back in because it’s so intense.

The humor of Ishida continues to appeal me in more ways than laughing. I don’t know why but there’s a meme circulating around about Tournament Arc; so Ishida decided to use that notion and mock it with Suzuya versus Kaneki. What’s astonishing is how cliche it felt in its environment, including the love interest (Touka) praying for the man to win. It’s abundantly clear that Ishida is mocking it yet it is entertaining.

The best part is what it seems to be a mockery of fan base with the reactions to Kaneki defeated. Every line reflects nearly exact word-by-word. Not since Evangelion (to my knowledge) has use the actual line to mock its fans. The fact Ishida understands it meaning he’s fully aware of his writing and characters, which actually feels reassuring. The question is what’s the point of this? The main objective is to segue to an excellent and dreary monologue.

The large portion of the chapter is based around Kaneki’s journey and how slowly succumbs to the thought of one thing: break the code. The reflection of Kaneki’s life grows unsettling when it begins with what if moments. The first in which is to kill Suzuya when we see them interact for the first time in :re. He thought of many possibilities that he declined in the past or ones that he should have done. Have Suzuya died there even though it’s ludicrous to do so, the fight wouldn’t happen at all.

What makes it brilliant is having all different faces of Kaneki in the floor room; showcasing all of them as separate yet same person. You got 240, One Eye King, Black Reaper, Sasaki, and even Shironeki. The memory recaps the life defining moments, including if he just stood by and not go to Anteiku. It’s actually sad to see how his life could have differ if he chose differently. His life is nothing but tough choices and he feel that he always pick the wrong one.

Black Reaper is ruthless but truthful about life because the real moral that Kaneki can’t seem to accept is one simple thing: it’s done. Kaneki is stuck on the mind of multiple paths and regrets to choose from. He also reflects that Kaneki shouldn’t place blame on someone else for his fault, which actually is on Shirazu’s death. Interesting to point that out since Urie is part of the fault as well, but he felt that he still responsible for his loss.

It becomes very distressing because multiple Kaneki can’t seem to have an agreement about life itself. Was it worth to take the path? Should you regret it? Should you hate yourself for choosing the wrong path? It has been Kaneki’s character for a long time. It has gotten to the point that each mindset opposes everyone else. It leaves a feeling of identity crisis that he suffered for a long time. However, there’s one part that they all agreed on that places them together as one person.

His love for Touka.

While it’s amusing for him to wish to go back and make sure the baby is given a nice name, it is sincere that Touka is the one person that they can see themselves moving forward. It slowly shifts to dark and somewhat nerve-wracking atmosphere because the wall for Kaneki is about to break. That wall reads “thou shall not kill.” It illustrated that every breaking point of his life has changes his view and many of which has not ended him. The one aspect that never changes is to move forward…like a centipede.

The moment he takes a bite out of Hajime and kill him, Kaneki’s hand is completely tainted with blood; from a ghoul and now, human. His code to never kill a human or eat one is completely vanished; there is no point of return. I was highly satisfied for Hajime to die in that brutal way. It’s the karma he deserved for killing those kids, so now he can rot in hell. The way he died has an ironic vision since he killed Fuka like that; everything came biting back hard. Yes, all puns intended!

The spree of killing Oggai is crazy. It’s all done for the sake of meeting Touka as he constantly repeats her name in his mind. She is the only driving force that he has left in the future when it’s all thing considered. It’s no wonder the past chapters with his love life has been highlighted significantly. She is the only one he got that means everything; in a way, you can say he has gone lust for the idea of keeping “hope” and to do that, he destroys his belief.

It is possible that Touka could be saved for the next chapter because she didn’t appear here. I can’t help but think there’s a possibility that we didn’t see her because Ishida could use this opportunity to test us audience on wondering if Kaneki will see her alive or dead. Again, it could be just this odd feeling of mine, but if we don’t see her in the next, I will gradually grow uncomfortable.

What shocked me a lot, although others do as well, is the revelation of Dragon. It’s confirmed that Dragon is in fact Kaneki. It’s not about who is it, rather how it came to be and it was always in front of us with all those subtle hints. Furuta is one clever bastard from the moment him and Kaneki confronted each other back in chapter 101; now that chapter has become the most prominent moment of their war. It wasn’t all talk for him to showcase how lunatic he is; it’s essential to the whole plot.

Every word he said was truly met. Keep in mind he has to go through tons of crap to make it possible; from becoming a Bureau Chief to activating Dragon. Rize did make children, but through experiments, much like Kaneki; they’re called Oggai. They would eventually play with Kaneki and that they did. Kaneki should be the one to take all the blame and disappear for the sake of Tokyo; Dragon can make it so. Uniting human and ghouls can be possible if he’s against everyone. On top of that, Furuta purposely have Oggai to surround Kaneki for easy nourishment in order for his RC cells to go insane. It’s highly evident when he purposely gave them the order to capture, which left them confused and dumbstruck by Kaneki slaughterhouse.

Oh. My. God!

The worst part is that he was going to win one way or another. If Kaneki just die there, he wins. If Kaneki consumes enough to become Dragon, he wins. The difference is what type of win he wants and it’s no doubt the latter. It’s like winning in a game; would you prefer to win by forfeit or win by skills. It’s not like it was guaranteed since he was still careful and hopefully for him, it goes all accordingly; it did. Once Kaneki shows up alone, he knew he would win. It’s a total victory once Kaneki became the Dragon he has been “raising.” I don’t even know if he dies here, but whatever it takes to feed him.

In short: the good news is Kaneki is back. The bad news is Kaneki is back.

The visual is very solid and the monologue discussion scene is very compelling. The different look of Kaneki stands out from each other but still the same person in the end. The atmosphere gets chilly when a scribbling look of Kaneki is saddened to not able to see Touka. It’s the embodiment of all Kaneki, like purity. The display of all old panels of their breaking points is greatly used to capture his character to hit it once more, only now he doesn’t care who he kills anymore.

While it’s satisfying to see him slaughtering everyone, it’s illustrated in a disturbing way with them being kids. I get that is the point from Furuta because Kaneki is tainted as a mad man; that’s just messed up. There was an old theory post that reflected on Kaneki’s design back when against Arima that his Kagune was slowly becoming Dragon-like; what a great call! The subtle hints continue to surprise me.

It’s a huge turnaround from the last chapter and although I love the last chapter a lot, this one really adds a lot more now. It’s time like this you shouldn’t jump to conclusion until it’s truly over. Regardless, this is a hell of a gripping chapter that got me floored with its portrayal of Kaneki and Furuta’s master plan coming to life. It’s not the end of :re, but it certainly feels like the end of the line.

[kpopgerapitico]

EOYR 2017: K-Dramas Part 1

I couldn’t do all the dramas I wanted to talk about (in depth) in one post. So here is the first one.

For this list, these dramas are decent. They are not the cream of the crop, and they all have issues. But for some reason (hint: it’s usually chemistry), at the end of the year looking back, I still love them.

So here, in no particular order. I decided to make a different format than my song stuff, because of course I should. So I borrowing a little bit from Dramabeans, and a little bit from Josei next Door (both of whom (or whoms? since Dramabeans is a bunch of people) do great work).

Strong Woman Do Bong Soon:

In A Sentence: Do Bong Soon is super strong, thus shenanigans ensue (and maybe some romance).

Steer Clear If: You cannot suspend disbelief (cause oh boy) or if you expect this to be your new feminist drama. It is not.

Comments:

There are some extraordinary parts of this drama. Namely Park Hyunsik throughout, though the lead Park Bo Young does some good work too. The romance is squee worthy in a lot of places. And it hits the notes you want from superhero dramas. It is really fun to have a beta male who is so in love with the lead, and doesn’t fear her strength quite as much as get turned on by it. Again, Park Hyunsik kills it, his face in this whole drama is both meme worthy as well as an epiphany for his acting skills. Some of the humor is also really good (the sandbags always get me, as well as the high school gang), and if you like low brow humor, there is quite a bit of that as well. Also, the soundtrack has the superpower girl sound, which is great, is one of the few songs that I remember from a drama well enough to sing it in my head without any prompting.

Then, there is the rest of this show. Boy is it a train wreck. There is a serial killer plot line that could be really good in a different super hero show (maybe Blade Man?), but is absolutely jarring. Jisoo plays a second lead that is never more than half-dimensional character. There is a caricature of a gay man played only for humor. There is some very possibly manipulative behavior from the lead guy to the girl. There is mentioned abuse between the mother and father, which is also played for comedy. There is a whole lot of stuff that makes me very unhappy with this show.

But then I remember how much I was crying while Ahn Min Hyuk refused to leave Do Bong Soon on the roof to die. Or how much it hurt every time Ahn Min Hyuk’s family was mean to him. Or how much I loved how confident Do Bong Soon was, and how much she fell from that, every once in a while.

And it reminds me that for all its faults, this show still managed to make me care. And that this year was quite a feat.

Age of Youth 2:

In A Sentence: The girls are back (for the most part), with more of the hi jinks of college, and life just after.

Steer Clear If: You like dramas that don’t disappoint you at the last possible second. Or you haven’t seen the first season (do it, it’s better).

Comments:

I love a lot about this series as a whole, and this season kept a lot of that up. Even if I had to fight with everyone else for subs. Han Yeri’s plot line still makes me very happy, even as she navigates another incredibly hard job this season. It makes me wonder why she isn’t in more dramas every year with how well she does. Han Seung Yeon’s character got her happy ending and it felt deserved. Kim Min Seok was the treasure we all know and love from Descendants of the Sun, this time cuter and more honest. Lee You Jin was also an epiphany this season, doing better in the role of awkward and uncomfortable in your own body than I think Onew would have. Choi A Ra’s character was one of the more background characters for me in remembering the show, but stands out for how she related to Kim Min Seok.

You may have noticed some names missing. The first, the first year couple from the first season, suffered from a recast and a re-characterization that also made no sense to me. No wonder he broke up with her as she went straight down the line to crazy town (she was literally being a stalker/overly attached ex through half the season).

Then comes my biggest gripe. There is AMAZING chemistry for the whole season (and a lot of last season) between Im Sung Min (Son Seung Won) and Song Ji Won (Park Eun Bin). We have all been waiting for them to get together for 2 WHOLE SEASONS!!!!! And what did the show do? Dangle the relationship in front of us, and leave us with NOTHING at the end. NOTHING!!!!!!!!

In the end, there is a lot to love about this show. I think this season especially gave us incredibly relatable women, and quite a few swoon worthy men as well. It enforced the community around the first season and helped it grow (my favorite part of the community is the subber who does the English subs on the JTBC Drama YouTube channel, they are amazing). And it showed us that everyone has similar problems to us, and deals with them just as poorly as we do.

While You Were Sleeping:

In A Sentence: A girl can’t stop the future deaths she sees in her sleep, but maybe with some help she can.

Steer Clear If: You expect things to always makes sense (cause they don’t) or you expect a procedural to keep you interested in the week to week plot (it really isn’t all that great)

Comments:

While You Were Sleeping is two different shows smashed into one. One of the shows, the rom com starring Suzy and Lee Jong Suk, works always and forever because their chemistry is adorable. The other show, a crime procedural about a girl who can the the future deaths of others? I really really really want it to work, and it is a bummer that it doesn’t really work all that well at all.

The plot is convoluted as all get out. And more importantly, it’s sort of boring in a lot of parts. Or maybe it just isn’t for me. Maybe I just don’t care about the inner workings of law in Korea.

But, if you leave the plot out, and instead look at the directing and the characters, it is a good drama. There is a whole lot of great emotional punches, most if not all of which hit. There is a great plot about brotherly love. There is a great plot about a guy and a girl just being friends, and the guy for the most part doesn’t get bent out of shape about the fact that she doesn’t have feelings for him. And most of the show, he really doesn’t have feelings either.

And there is Suzy and Lee Jong Suk’s characters, whose personalities are both half confidence, half embarrassing misunderstandings. It makes for prime rom-com territory. I especially like all the times they put their respective feet in their mouths. It had me laughing every time.

And the emotional hits do well too, with tears when it was appropriately sad, and laughter when it was funny. What more can you ask for from your entertainment.

Suspicious Partner:

In A Sentence: A lawyer in training becomes a murder suspect, but it’s a rom com.

Steer Clear If: You get annoyed when plot becomes more important than characters.

Comments:

I rewatched most of this show in preparation to write this. And at first, I could not realize why I remember only liking this show. It was so good. It hits all my favorite rom com notes: witty banter, respect between the two leads (both of opinions and often emotions), characters that call each other out (or even themselves in the case of the lead women stalking the lead guy), and everyone else shipping them too.

But then the 3rd act happens. And there is a whole lot of crap. There is noble idiocy. There is characters holding things back from each other. There is Ji Chang Wook being a badass (the only highlight of this section). There are characters suddenly acting differently for no other reason than it makes the plot work. It goes off the rollers.

But the first 30 or so episodes? They are pretty amazing. There is a friendship between a guy and a girl! And there is never a crush or love line between them! And they use that closeness to make the main guy jealous! Hell, he gives her chocolate for that purpose, or maybe just because he is legitimately nice.

Also, the funniest thing I have seen in a drama this year happened in this drama. There is a scene (mild but obvious spoiler) where the main couple reveals themselves to the moms. And the best friend and office guy (he has more personality than that I promise) pretend to be shocked. And I watched it over and over again, giggling every single time.

School 2017:

In A Sentence: It is hard to succeed in a high school ruled by money and grades, but damn it Ra Eun Ho is going to try!!!

Steer Clear If: You aren’t a fan of the school series, or high school dramas in general, because this uses all of the tropes, good and bad.

Comments:

School 2017 is a return to form of the School franchise after the train wreck of 2015 (I didn’t watch 2015 because I waited long enough for it to have bad reviews and thus stop me from watching). And boy does it do the return well. It has the romance you want from a school drama, adorable and cute in every way, as well as the bromance we all loved from School 2013. It has the wonderful discovery of Kim Sejeong in a role that she absolutely destroyed at, and most of the rest of the young cast also doing super well (I liked Kim Jung Hyun a lot and Min Sung Wook was rudely underutilized).

My one and only problem with School 2017 is that it wanted to do just a few too many plots. It meant that they couldn’t go very deep into any of them. I loved most of the plot, but I can’t fully get behind a series that never gets the full depth of everything. I especially didn’t like that the best friend got super shafted in her plot line, especially since she had some cute buildup in the beginning where they could have made some astute commentary about fan culture, and then they threw that away because they didn’t have time for it with the main storyline getting so complex and large. It was a waste of what could have been a cute part of the show.

But, School 2017 is still a good show, with endearing characters. It reminded me of Sassy Go Go in the best way possible. It made me remember high school fondly, which is hard to do, and exactly what I want from this franchise.

[todokori-kun]

Ok:

Luna, you’re the best. You’re smart, you’re talented, you’re dedicated, you’re creative and caring, a wonderful listener, so much fun to debate with, and the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve helped me with ever since we started talking; I respect your resolve. You’re unique and amazing, and I’m so, so sorry this is happening to you.

I won’t go into detail because it’s a complicated story that’s also way too long, but I’ve sort of felt that way before too (thinking it might be better if I just disappeared/wishing I didn’t exist/feeling worthless). It sucks.

I don’t know if this’ll help, but just know that I’m always here to listen if you need it. You can Email me (though I guess that’s probably not an option lol) or just, like, I don’t know, maybe post something on the blog like ‘Evans can we talk’ and I’ll definitely see it and respond because I stalk this place 24/7 (Evans is a creep please don’t encourage her). I’ve also been considering finally getting a tumblr so maybe we’ll be able to PM each other sometime.

There’s absolutely nothing to apologize for. It’s really brave to talk about stuff like this (I never can). And if there’s any way I can help, please, let me know.

  (Also, funny story (it’s actually gross and is basically just Evans whining about stuff):

I know from experience that stomach-related sicknesses suck. When I first started taking swimming lessons I was an idiot with zero stamina who could barely swim halfway across the pool without coming up for air, so needless to say, I ended up gulping a ton of water (especially since my teacher didn’t go easy on me; mom told her not to because I’m a sloth and I usually won’t do any exercise on my own besides simple stretches and some walking/running). I mean, the water in swimming pools is usually a bit disgusting, and it’s even worse where I take lessons because it’s a pretty old place and I don’t think it gets cleaned that often… so not only did accidentally swallowing it trigger my clean-freak senses, I also ended up with a terrible stomachache. I thought it was fine, that it would pass. But then I got a fever and every other thing I ate made me feel like someone was twisting my intestines from the inside, I couldn’t even lie down and rest for a sec because whenever I moved or tried to change positions it got even worse ;p; (also my mom never let it go, she kept jokingly 'reminding’ me that water from a swimming pool is not something you should drink after I started swimming again. I guess I kinda deserved it, though. I was an idiot))

That sounds so lovely <3 I’d really love to go visit Norway myself sometime, though I’ll probably have to wait a few years (my mom has back problems that make it painful for her to stay in one position for too long, so long plane/car rides are a huge no). And oooh if you have any good pictures I’d love to see them :D

Thanks, I’m glad I managed to explain my shipping reasons (like it’s so hard to properly talk about why I ship stuff sometimes XD)! I would give anything to have you join me in Stoki hell so let me just recommend basically the entire Remember This Cold series (it’s angsty as heck so proceed with caution…there are bits of humor and fluff in there, though, and then some extremely rare (almost) pure fluff fics. Like the one where Steve wants to propose but is a nervous bean because Loki’s a PRINCE and he wants to make it perfect). I’ll also try to find some more good fics later becase I can’t remember any titles right now ^^;;

YES ANOTHER T'CHALLA FAN I adore this guy (also I feel like he has a really cool voice. Not really sure why, it just sounds so nice). I really respect him for his attitude towards Steve and Bucky after he figures out Bucky’s not the real murderer, and how he later stops letting his anger towards his father’s killer consume him.

We’ll fangirl over the Black Panther movie together when it comes out, won’t we *schwing*

(right after I wrote 'schwing’ I got this mental image of Hisoka having his glowing, expolsive schwing moments after seeing T'Challa. And then Hisoka schwinging in theater while watching MCU movie fight scenes. Why am I like this)

I can draw, but I don’t know how to animate so these memes will never be a thing ;-; it’s so sad, I’ve got everything planned out…everytime eyes are mentioned the screen zooms in on Illumi’s eyes (yes even when Illumi’s not in the song because he’s a Zoldyck assassin, you can’t keep him out) and the word 'eyes’ gets the weird treatment where all these high/low/metallic(?) voices get layered so it sounds like the creepiest thing ever

('History has its eyes on you but it’s actually Illumi’ is both the animatic I want to see the most and the animatic I hope will never be created)

Fun HxH facts I want to let you know about:

Kite (AKA Ging’s student and Gon’s big brother figure) is dead and has been brainwashed into being a weapon/punching bag for his captors. When sunshine angel Gon meets the new Kite he lets Kite beat him up and then hugs him, promising to save him (THE FEEEEEEELSS)

Forgot to mention this about Chrollo, but when Kurapika killed one of his troupe (a guy named Uvogin), Chrollo acted all cool and never really talked about Uvo…

but then he had the rest of the troupe murder 2000 mafiosi guarding a building they were trying to get into, and while watching the chaos from afar, listening to their enemy’s screams, he started waving his hands as if conducting an orchestra…

“Uvogin-san. Can you hear it? This requiem we’re dedicating to you.”

(jeez Chrollo we know you’re extra but you can’t just murder 2000 people and play a funeral march with their cries of horror every time you lose a subordinate)

Lastly: There’s a new character named Knuckle who’s like the HxH version of Metal Bat. He is the sweetest cinnamon roll. I love him. I’ll send you a pic later

So um did you hear the news about Hinami

(Queen Luna cosplaying Maka(? or any of the other three MCs)…omg that sounds so awesome)

*facepalm* ok WHOOPS I actually read about that on the SE wiki a while ago. How did I forget about it

Yep! It was so good <33 (Lizzy looks so graceful and pretty I can’t even) I actually found the whole movie on YT but just watched the parts I was really looking forward to seeing animated, like UT’s fight scene, Seb getting stabbed, the rest of the Midford family…(Francis’ hair shocked me. Idk how to feel about it. At first I thought it made her look like an old lady, but then, the more I look at it, the prettier it gets…like, it’s actually a really nice design, but I guess I got too used to manga!Francis lol)

Light is the trash GOD.

(hope you get to read the light novel! As far as I know it’s got a TON of L and Naomi in it so it might make you feel better :D)

Oh yeah, I get what you mean. Light’s reasoning/views on the justice system probably connects a lot to the culture and social issues of Japan at the time.

DN’s probably still one of the easier-to-adapt mangas out there, though, since the themes of justice and questioning the idea of 'greater good’ is something anyone can relate to (and they still botched it, I’m very salty about this and you can’t stop me ;-; even with how terrible Ryuk and Rem looked in them, the Japanese movies were WAY better, and it’s actually pretty rare that Japan makes a good live-action movie from a manga or anime. Apparently the TG movie that came out this year was pretty good too, though :D).

(I apparently somehow accidentally erased the part where I mentioned I actually read HCs/theories about Japanese-American Light on tumblr somewhere….that’s what got me thinking about it.

I agree though, seeing how different cultures would change Light’s character would be very interesting.)

The lack of potato chips doomed the entire Keikaku from the start.

I can see you being similar to Pearl too! I think I’m maybe a bit like Lapis…or possibly Connie. Or maybe Blue Diamond because I also cry way too much (but then again BD actually has a reason to be miserable so)

Those are both cool gems<3 and yeah, they’re both really pretty :D

I was talking about gem 'roles’ back on Homeworld, though ^^;; like, how Pearls are considered servants or pretty accessories, Diamonds are leaders, fusions like Garnet are outcasts, Rubies are 'dumb muscle’, Sapphires are valuable prophets, Peridots are tech experts, Jaspers are soldiers…sorry, I should’ve been more specific OTL

I’d probably be a Pearl lol. I could see myself being a Peridot and being scared to death without a Quartz soldier to guard me but I’m not good with any kind of technology so nah.

And sorry for asking weird questions, I forgot it’s been a while since you watched the show ^^;;

Hey, don’t feel bad about slow replies! Like I said before, I seriously don’t mind as long as you’re ok :D and I’m so glad I’ve managed to help.

('a friend I appreciate’ *ugly sobbing* thank you)

Did someone say suffering?

*'Remember That We Suffered’ plays in the background*

DID THE QUEEN JUST SAY 'Goals’ ABOUT SOMETHING I MADE OMG I’M FREAKING OUT TYSM

Ayyy I’m so glad you liked them! (The Hide pic was painted with the intent to kill)

(last thing:

I’m sorry, this is probably really creepy, but I ended up telling my mom about you because she asked who I was talking to (she knows I have internet friends and has seen me writing messages before). Since I’m only 13 she worries about the people I talk (she knows all my friends on ao3) so I told her some small things like your age, that you’re from Croatia, that you play the piano too and that you mentioned having a sister.

I’m really, really sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, mom just worries a lot and she likes to hear about my friends (like, she worries for my safety on the internet so she has to ask me some basic things about the people I talk with, and when she knows I have a good friend on the internet she sometimes wants to hear if my relationship with them is ok). I’d never tell her something really private but sometimes she wants to talk and I know she worries for me so I do tell her small, random details from our convos.

if you’re uncomfortable with that, though, I’ll stop. Again, I’m so sorry about this.)

And after two weeks of silence, the species finally shows some signs of life.  ;-;

I’m totally not crying.  I’ve said this so many times and you’re probably getting annoyed, but I have no idea what I did to deserve you in my life.  You’re actually the only person I’d told about my current mental state at that time, and I’m so glad you didn’t freak out or just write it away as me overreacting (like my mom did), and it means so so so much to me. Truly, thank you for being here for me. (And not giving up on me, considering how long my replies take ;-;)

I’m here for you as well, though, so if you’re ever feeling down, you can message me ^^ 

Oh, it’d be cool if you’d get a tumblr! I can guarantee my replies would be faster then, since the messages would show up in my notifications...

Also, to brighten things up a little, this is how I picture you at the beginning of the message:

Oh  god that sounds disgusting XD And perfectly describes why I don’t wanna do swimming as a sport. Are you still swimming? It’d be cool if you were, cause it’s a really beautiful sport imo. 

That’s unfortunate... Hopefully you’ll be able to visit it someday ^^

Tbh considering the shit I unironically ship sometimes, no ship is weird enough to be unexplainable. Name a single reason why you ship it, and it’s valid in my eyes. Heck, it can be ‘they look good together’ and I’ll say ‘makes sense’. Y’know why? Because I’m one of those ppl who will ship it if they so much as look at each other.

ok fun fact: I’ve loved T’Challa since I was like 8, because every summer, there would be a weekly publication of superhero comics, and Black Panther was almost always there, and I was a nerd even then, so I’d always buy them. Other than Spiderman, Black Panther was my favourite superhero. 

Lololol I need the HxH Cast watching MCU movies. Oh yeah, I found this a while ago and immediately thought of you:

Amazing... If you ever learn to animate, please send me a link, because I will pay money to see that. Just. I’m not even into HxH, but I’d give up a lot to see the crossover XD

Ouch, that seems like a lot of feels... Seriously I have no idea where you get the mental strength to read to many angsty moments...

um, yeah... i have actually... but um, she’s alive, right?

Turns out I gave my skirt I’d used to charity, so until i find a replacement, I can’t take any pics... well, at least i can grow my hair out to Maka’s length till that happens XD

I adore the movie, seriously, the animators did such an amazing job with it, especially the most important scenes. BUT HECK; WHEN WILL WE FIND OUT WHAT OUR CIEL’S NAME IS?? It’s been hinted that it’s quite unusual, BUT THAT MAKES IT EVEN HARDER HNNNGH

Oh yeah, I’m gonna find that novel even if it kills me, because I need the L. 

lol I still haven’t forgiven the movie adaptation of Avatar the Last Airbender. It was so bad that most people (including me are denying its existence). I might watch Death Note some time soon, so I can judge it for myself tbh... 

Of course, the chips were a vital part of the Keikaku... No wonder it didn’t succeed...

No worries! It’s not your fault! Tbh, i dont think id even reached that part when I was watching it, so it’s interesting to hear all the roles...  Aw, you’d be an adorable Peridot ^^

Tbh ‘friend that I appreciate’ doesn’t even begin to describe how precious you are to me. You’re the first online friend I made and the first person I told about my mental state, so honestly, you’re one of the people I feel closest to...

Nah, I don’t find it creepy at all!! Seriously, I sometimes tell my parents about people I talk to, so I’ve mentioned well ^^ It’s your choice what/who you’ll talk about ^^

[ramajmedia]

10 Jokes From Cheers That Have Already Aged Poorly | ScreenRant

The contemporary culture of the 1980s was a whole world of difference away from the 2010s, and Cheers feels incredibly dated when you consider a lot of its jokes. While the series is ageless in its legacy, the younger fanbase of today will definitely have a hard time swallowing some of Cheers’ pills.

RELATED: 10 Things That Make No Sense In Cheers

Mainly, it’s because people have become more sensitive to certain things nowadays, and without the context of living in the 1980s or being aware of the culture at the time, these 10 jokes have aged very poorly indeed. The important thing to remember, though, is to have an open mind and accept that today’s way of thinking is a lot different from before.

10 "Don't You Ever Hit Me Again!"

It should go without saying that a man laying his hands on a woman is very bad, let alone having a main character from a TV show slap a woman in the face. But in the second season finale of Cheers, this is exactly what we saw.

RELATED: 10 Things Frasier Did Better Than Cheers

Here, Diane and Sam had a huge fight, one that spilled to insane levels of physicality. Diane would instigate the violence when she slapped Sam for being too mean with his words; to her immense surprise, Sam slapped her back. The two would then go back and forth with hitting one another, which was a sequence that was meant to be funny because of how childish they looked, but today it just makes us incredibly uncomfortable.

9 Rebecca Locked In The Vent By Carla

To be fair, even in the date that this episode aired this shouldn’t have been very funny. Carla was famous for being the meanest character on TV, but she crossed the line between funny and downright cruel.

In this episode, Rebecca opened up a vent in Cheers for repairs and headed inside to see what the problem was. Carla thought she’d be funny and lock Rebecca inside the confined space. Poor Rebecca was trapped in there for so many hours that she was still stuck by the episode’s end, and none of the other characters did anything to help her. In fact, Carla had even meaner things to say while she had Rebecca locked up.

8 "Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures."

Funnily enough, this was meant to be a progressive episode back in 1982, where we saw the topic of orientation come up. Looking back now, Norm, Cliff, and the rest of the patrons look like complete jerks because they felt insulted that men who weren’t interested in women were in the bar.

They assumed two effeminate men to be their targets and drove them out, only to find out the men they were after had been among them the whole time. It was meant to showcase how ignorant Norm and the others were, but nowadays the jokes come across as more mean-spirited than anything else.

7 "I'm Going To Steal Your Girlfriend."

Henri was Woody’s girlfriend’s friend from France, whose real motive was to steal her from Woody to leech off her riches. As it happened, Henri arrived at Cheers along with Kelly, where he openly told Woody that he would steal Kelly from him. 

RELATED: 10 Things You Didn’t Know About That ‘80s Show

Perhaps it was funnier back then that a guy would tell the boyfriend how he was planning on stealing the girl, but today it comes across as Kelly being very insensitive toward how uncomfortable Woody was. Henri would even be very touchy-feely with Kelly in front of Woody, but this was still supposed to be something funny rather than inappropriate.

6 "And Then, I Turned 11."

In this scene, the guys were clowning Rebecca for being a daddy’s girl. Rebecca’s truth came out in that she was still paid a stipend from her father despite being a woman in her 30s, and the gang didn’t let her hear the end of it. Frasier in particular feigned being on her side, only to tell her he was paid a stipend as well, until he turned 11.

RELATED: Big Bang Theory: 10 Hilarious Sheldon Memes That Are Too Funny

Sure, Rebecca was irresponsible for not taking control of her finances, but since today's audiences are likely to be more sympathetic to financial woes, they’ll likely take Rebecca’s side for wanting her father to support her financially.

5 "Well, You Never Hurt Me, Did You!?"

Another instance of Cheers broaching a little too close into male abuse territory, we're pretty certain audiences today won’t be very sympathetic to Frasier’s anger toward Diane. He was dumped by her way back in Season 3, but was still holding a grudge in the Season 11 finale. 

RELATED: Big Bang Theory: 10 Times Amy And Penny Were Friendship Goals

When he saw Diane again, Frasier initially attempted to be cool, but then unknowingly started to hurt Diane by squeezing her shoulders too tight. Of course, Frasier's actions weren't intended to cause physical harm, but it's still something that probably wouldn't (and shouldn't) be included in a modern American sitcom.

4 "...There Is No Other Part."

Sam’s characterization seemed to be about how good-looking he was and how much he liked to be among the ladies, apart from which he didn’t have anything else; Sam realized this as well.

When Woody was disappointed that Sam had let him down, he claimed he had idolized the latter except for his two most well-known traits, leading to Sam quipping there were no other parts to him. Today, people would just condemn Sam for his debauchery, and call him shallow for being so superficial. He definitely was just that, but back then it was passed off as charmingly funny.

3 "Hunting For Snipe."

The gang at the bar liked to play rough, there’s no question about that. And when Frasier tried to integrate among them, they went extra mean. Taking Frasier out in the woods, they had him “hunt snipe," (which doesn't exist), and then left him out there. 

RELATED: Friends: 7 Reasons Ross And Rachel Really Were On A Break (& 3 Reasons They Weren’t)

It was a simple practical joke at the time, but that was what bullies called it back then. Clearly, Frasier wasn’t someone equipped to survive outdoors, and he had to fight his way back to the bar where he found the others laughing at his gullibility. Fortunately, bullying isn’t thought to be as funny as it was back then.

2 "It Is Not In A Man's Nature To Sit Alone And Be Passive And Docile."

Yikes. This one's so bad we can't make a clear argument for including the full quote, which is incredibly misogynistic. Here, Cliff would argue with Diane that women were the ones meant to stay at home and indulge themselves in stuff like culture and nurturing, while men were meant to be hunters. 

RELATED: How I Met Your Mother: 10 Best Songs Featured On The Show

The irony was that Cliff was clearly in the wrong, as Norm seated next to him refused to move an inch because he was lazy. However, anybody viewing the episode for the first time today would be inclined to overlook the punchline and latch onto Cliff’s ignorance of women, which we’ll agree was very striking.

1 "Goodnight Everyone!"

There’s practical jokes and bullying, but a whole new word has to be made for Carla’s cruel treatment of Cliff. There were times where she made sure Cliff was physically in pain, and this one was the worst of the lot.

Here, Cliff mistakenly set an attack dog onto himself by using its attack word; Carla called its owner to ask how to get the dog to calm down. When she was told the word, instead of rescuing Cliff (who was being chewed out by the sounds of his anguishes of pain), she bid everyone goodnight and left the bar so that Cliff would possibly get mauled to death. Nothing about this comes across as funny at all, instead we’re left hoping someone would throw Carla in jail for what she did.

NEXT: Supernatural: 10 Times The Show Broke Our Hearts

source https://screenrant.com/10-jokes-cheers-already-aged-poorly/

[myaekingheart]

just some random late night (ish) thoughts below the cut on personal style and being another year older, don’t mind me.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my personal style, and by extension my identity, and especially my age considering yesterday (May 13th) was my birthday. I’m now 22 and I feel kind of weird about it. I feel like I’ve kind of passed over this threshold and that I’m not in this one particular realm anymore. To be totally blunt about it, I feel kind of old. I don’t know, it’s weird like logically I know that 22 is still super young but in my fucked up head, it feels like I’m no longer this kid anymore. I’m not in the same category as, like, 18-21 year olds anymore. Maybe it’s just part of that cycle, like how when you’re in sixth grade you’re a big fish in a little pond and at the top of the food chain, then you enter middle school and you’re the fresh meat again, and the same for your freshman year of high school and later, I guess, college. There’s absolutely no reason whatsoever for me to feel this way and yet I do. Maybe it’s because I’m a sentimental whore, I don’t know. Over the past few year months, I have been noticing kind of a significant shift in myself, my style and my identity and whatnot. I’m emo as fuck, like old school 2008 emo, and I always had a penchant for being dark and spooky like it’d be really satisfying to make people uncomfortable just by the way I looked and to walk down a hallway with a death glare and want people to squirm, and I do still really like that but at the same time there’s also been something else creeping up. Something a lot more cheery and innocent, I don’t know. A bit of a taste for kawaii/lolita shit. All that pink frilly cutesy crap. Ideally, I have this perfect conglomerate of style in my head that’s this balanced mix of everything-- a little goth, a little emo, a little grunge, a little scene, a little kawaii/lolita, whatever-- but I also feel kind of conflicted. Is that too much to try and fit on one plate? Is this just a recipe for a trainwreck? I don’t fucking know. And then there’s the idea of confidence. Clearly this stuff isn’t really in style anymore, at least regarding the emo/scene shit. Nobody has that thick side fringe with the choppy teased layers anymore. I mean, obviously that’s not going to stop me from continuing to do it because I feel like this hairstyle is the most flattering on me and it makes me feel happy and confident. But that, coupled with everything else, poses a bit of an issue. This isn’t very widely socially accepted (nor has it ever really been, but especially now) and so it kind of requires a lot of confidence to pull off. I never had that confidence as a kid, when this was actually on trend, and that’s a big part of why I never had a middle school scene phase. That and the fact that I didn’t even really know myself thanks to peer pressure and feeling blank and boring and dizzy about myself. I’ve come SUCH a long way since then, though. I still am socially awkward as fuck but at least I can get done what I need to without any hesitation (like public transportation, being out and about in town on my own, confronting professors, etc.) The only thing that scares me now is that...I’m getting older. I can’t help but feel like there’s this invisible limit on being a certain way, or presenting yourself a certain way, after a certain age. I rejoice when I find another scene kid on instagram who is as old as if not older than myself because it feels like permission to continue doing this, as if I need it. And it sucks that I feel like I do. If I’m happy this way, if I’m actually finally experimenting with alternative styles and it makes me almost giddy with excitement, then why do I feel the need to put a cap on my happiness and restrain myself? All because of a fear of getting too old to be an emo/scene kid? That emo dad meme always pops into my head. I guess I just get so scared of one day reaching an age where I can’t pull this off anymore, where it’s either no longer socially tolerable or I can no longer pull it off or whatever. It’s kind of stressing me out, to be honest. I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to outgrow this. I want to say like this for as long as I damn well please. If I reach an age where I decide I don’t want to be like this anymore, then that’s all well and good (though I don’t think I will, honestly-- I always like to laugh and say everyone had a scene phase but I’m the complete opposite and had a normal phase. I mean, I was shaking my ass to KISS and Joan Jett when I was four, and I desperately wanted to wear cargo pants and converse and tank tops with ties like Avril Lavigne because she was my fucking idol. AT FOUR) but I’m so damn happy and confident like this. Yeah, sometimes I feel a little anxious/embarrassed but that’s just because a part of me is still nervous about the reception rather than whether I myself am happy like this. And I am happy like this. I want to be that gorgeous alternative queen who has a septum ring and tattoos and wears fishnets and creepers and black lipstick but also frilly dresses and hair bows and teases their hair and shit. It’s like this ideal mix of my dark, angsty, badass bitch side that I’ve taken so long to cultivate but also this cutesy childhood nostalgia essence that I’m trying so hard to cling to because I miss those days and a part of me just desperately wants to be a kid again. That sounds so psychologically fucked up, but I mean...let’s be honest here, so much of what I do in terms of style hinges on nostalgia by now (sometimes I have so much regret for not fully pursuing that emo/scene phase ten years ago that it physically hurts inside my chest, and no matter what I do now I know it will never truly be the same ever again because it’s a long since past time and even if the emo/scene of 2009 does have a serious revival, it’s never going to be quite the same as the way it was back then and that hurts). I don’’t know, I guess a lot of this is just mindless rambling but it’s been on my mind a lot lately (for a few weeks if not months, really) and especially with my birthday now it’s just kind of escalated. And kind of side note but my boyfriend’s dead ex kind of plays into this a little bit, as well. I know I said I was over it, and I am, but that doesn’t mean there are parts of her existence that don’t still affect me. There was a time, back in high school, when I went alternative for all the wrong reasons. I started teasing my hair and wearing heavy black eye shadow and overusing the term “hang you from a telephone pole by your intestines” not because it made me happy so much as because I was depressed and desperate. Ex girlfriend was a scene queen and I was jealous. There was just something about her that riled up so much inside of me, more than just the “You have what I want” bullshit. Yes, part of this was because I desperately wanted to be with her boyfriend but more than that, I think I was jealous because she was everything I wanted to be. I think she kind of brought back this sort of desire from my childhood to be a certain way, and stirred up a lot of regret for never going through with it. For a long stretch of time, I was virtually nothing in terms of style and personality. I was just this blank, boring slate. There was nothing memorable or unique about me. I was a wallflower. I faded into the crowd. I didn’t make a mark on anyone or anything. But then I saw her and I instantly hated her because she wasn’t like that at all. She was like who I could’ve been if I had said fuck it and did whatever the hell I wanted without worrying about what other people would think or being popular or following the crowd/a friend who lost touch with what was really important. So I went full-on emo/scene out of spite not just for her but for myself. It was an act of self hatred. In those days, I felt simultaneously the most and least like myself that I ever had. I was dark and angsty and I fucking loved it, but at the same time it did come from a place of such seething self hatred and I knew that and so despite feeling satisfied with what I was doing to myself and the way people were beginning to finally take me seriously (kind of), I also felt like every time I looked in the mirror, I saw her. I associated everything about this style with her and it made me disgusted and delighted at the same time. It was like I was trying to erase everything that I was to become her but better, that was my ultimate end goal, and yet there was this complicated sense of satisfaction in erasing myself and yet also feeling like this was myself. It was so weird, and it’s so damn hard to put into words. All I know is that I hated myself and was doing this really out of such desperate self hatred. I think feeling like I belonged this way because this style made me happy made hate myself even more, because I couldn’t separate the “her” out of it. As if the hair and the makeup and the music were all trademarked by her and by pursuing it myself, I was committing some sort of copyright infringement and therefore was a disgusting criminal. I feel like none of this is making any sense, and it’s so damn hard to put it into words, but I continue on anyways. It too me so damn long to get out of this funk, to reclaim what I had found made me happy. I don’t think it helped that for so long, I felt like I had lost myself anyways compared to who I was as a kid, and I guess in a way finding comfort in this style in the way that I did felt like coming home to a place that didn’t belong to me anymore. I had no right to be there. I struggled for fucking years to break that past all that, though. It was so damn hard to come to terms with the fact that she does not own any of this, and that I am allowed to take pride in presenting myself the way I do and being happy about it and owning it rather than feeling like I am copying someone else and doing this out of self hatred. I think it was only a year or so ago that I kind of broke past that wall, and another six months later to really clean up the debris and accept what was happening. If I’m being honest, this all still feels so new to me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this “fuck-given-less” in my entire life, this carefree about what people think about the way I look/dress and all that good shit. But it’s taken me so long to get here, and now I just feel like there’s this ticking time bomb or this cloud of anxiety over my head. I have this irrational fear about death that makes no damn sense but I feel like my necrophobia has only gotten more and more intense over the past few months leading up to my birthday, and now I feel like I’m kind of in this haze or this twilight zone and that I’m running out of time. I was too late to find the confidence to “be myself” basically, and now I feel like my time to take advantage of it is already running so short. And the girlfriend comes back into this a bit, as well. I don’t like the feeling of all of this. I’m 22 now. I am the same age that she was when she died. There’s this strange sense of competition, almost as if I’m outrunning her in a sense. I keep thinking about how I’m the same age that she was when she passed away, and it’s this unnerving feeling of unity almost. I feel like Alice at the end of the movie when she’s running in slow motion through that smoke tunnel to get to the door, and she sees herself asleep under the tree through the keyhole, and she’s begging herself to wake up. I feel like that doesn’t make any sense, either. I don’t know, I guess basically I’m just still trying to find my comfort in all of this. Maybe a part of me still associates her with this style, and in doing so it almost feels like I’m setting myself up for failure. Like I’m writing my own history to follow in her footsteps. It’s already creepy enough to me that she died of a digestive disease, and I have a chronic digestive disorder (that I was already terrified enough of because a digestive disease is what also took my grandfather when I was sixteen, and I was there for the last few hours of his life all the way up until his body was carted away to the funeral home. I had nightmares for six months afterward, and that probably also really contributed to that self hatred spiral because things overlapped and I was just in a really bad fucking place, to be totally honest). I just almost have this feeling like I’m replaying history, though, and that the same fate that took her will befall me also. It’s so damn irrational but it’s there, looming over my head always. And if it doesn’t, then that means I’ve “outran” her in a sense. That if I do, in fact, make it to my 23rd birthday, then I’ll have lived longer than she did and therefore will have “won,” in a way. I don’t know, I’ve always felt competitive about her. Nothing like trying to beat a dead girl in a pointless game, right? None of this makes any damn sense, and I feel so fucking ridiculous, but I know I need to at least own what’s going on in my head and let it all out lest it build up like a tumor and kill me. I’ve gotta pop that pimple and let all the pus run out. That was disgusting, I’m so sorry. Not that there’s anyone to apologize to. I don’t know, there’s just been a lot going on in my head, and in my life really. My parents are moving in a week after a super abrupt decision to put their house up for sale that they only just announced, like, a month ago so my head is still really spinning from that. There’s also just college, and worries about my father’s dangerous job, and an online sexual harassment thing that’s taken months for me to kind of manage inside myself. I sound so goddamn problematic, honestly, jesus fuck. But whatever. I just needed to get all of this out, honestly. There’s just been so much damn shit going on in my head. At least the screamo helps cleanse the soul and mirrors what it feels like inside my body both mentally and physically bahahahaha

[recentnews18-blog]

New Post has been published on https://shovelnews.com/the-weird-science-of-lakeith-stanfield-sorry-to-bother-you-and-the-batman-villain-hes-determined-to-play-deadline/

The Weird Science Of Lakeith Stanfield: ‘Sorry To Bother You’ And The ‘Batman’ Villain He’s Determined To Play - Deadline

Dan Doperalski

Lakeith Stanfield is headed home. That is, if he can remember where he lives. “I forgot my street,” he chuckles to the driver. He snaps his fingers once, twice, three times, and like magic, summons his address to mind.

To be fair, he hasn’t been living there long. Since his career started to click, the 27-year-old actor hasn’t been rooted anywhere for long. Yesterday, he was in Boston filming Rian Johnson’s all-star murder mystery Knives Out, alongside Daniel Craig, Michael Shannon, Chris Evans and Jamie Lee Curtis. Then a red-eye flight to Los Angeles, a day of photo shoots, and finally, the back of this car on the way to his new house in the Valley, not far from the crowded apartment he used to share with a bunch of dudes just three years ago when he was still that bit player who would pop up in a movie and make it sparkle, but vanish before audiences remembered to Google his name. Selma, Straight Outta Compton, Short Term 12, Miles Ahead, Dope. Finally, he got two supporting roles that carved him into the public consciousness: as the stoner sage Darius in FX’s Atlanta, and the mind-zapped kidnap victim in Get Out who made a straw boater hat look diabolical. And then, the capper on what feels like an inevitable climb to stardom: the lead in Boots Riley’s Sorry to Bother You, a bizarre and breathtakingly ambitious film that feels like a roadmap to the future of Hollywood, a place where creative talent like his isn’t just a detour, but a destination. 

Annapurna Pictures

Stanfield adjusts the brim of his pink Captain’s cap and smiles. He owns the same hat in a half-dozen colors—pink, white, red, blue, teal—to match, or clash, with his outfit of the day. “Always sailors, because I like that idea: Riding the waves of life.” He’s ridden them from Base Line Street in the Inland Empire, where he navigated addicts and needles on his way to school, all the way to this one-story wooden house with a backyard stuffed with trees and bushes and rustling critters where he can sit outside and feel “kinda Snow White”. 

The outdoor noises creep out his guests. Maybe his home is haunted, he muses. “There very well could be ghosts because it was built in the ’30s,” says Stanfield. “It was an actor before me. I wonder if he’s still alive, though, or if he’s haunting me through my walls, giving me actor juice.” 

Sure, his new neighbors have cluelessly asked if he’s a rapper. “Lemme make these people some cakes or something just to introduce myself and quell all those worries about my tattoos,” Stanfield jokes. “But yeah, I love it. I’m here, I worked hard to get here.”

Sometimes his compass is off. When he first read the script for Sorry to Bother You, Stanfield didn’t like it. “It was a weird, twisted, crazy thing,” he says of Riley’s furious and funny anti-capitalist screed. A telemarketer named Cassius falls through ceilings, adopts a white voice to boost sales, catches the eye of a smarmy techbro (Armie Hammer), becomes the fulcrum of an office strike, gets turned into a meme, and then gets transformed into a half-man, half-horse—all to learn not to sell your soul to corporations. The misadventures of Cassius Green were like Pinocchio on peyote. “It turned me off initially,” Stanfield admits. “Then I picked it up later, and after the second time, I was like, ‘OK, we have to do this.’” 

Annapurna Pictures

His hesitation is surprising because Sorry to Bother You feels like a tailor-made showcase for Stanfield’s specific kind of strange. His Cassius is vulnerable yet manipulative, a straight man in his world and an emotional dervish in ours. He’s a victim and a villain, a money-grubber with a noodle for a backbone, which embarrasses his activist girlfriend Detroit (Tessa Thompson). Clashing with Hammer’s Silicon Valley tycoon Steve Lift, Stanfield would get so riled up that, “when they said cut, I almost forgot we were doing a movie.” In the film’s most uncomfortable scene, Lift pressures him to entertain his fancy party with a rap. Cassius reluctantly grabs the mic—and what comes out is so offensive, we can’t tell if the shocking joke is on him or the crowd. 

“You don’t want to feel safe,” Stanfield explains. Not only did Sorry to Bother You take huge risks, its low budget set definitely teetered on the edge of disaster. “It was ghetto fabulous,” he laughs. When Cassius’ desk drops into people’s apartments, Stanfield really fell nine feet, steadying his phone and computer monitor and continuing the scene. On the day his character discovers a monstrous equisapien in an underground bathroom, the stunt man in the homemade horse suit fell to the floor and started flailing as planned. “I’m just like, ‘Oh he’s a good actor,’” says Stanfield. But then he started to smell something burning, and when a plume of smoke streamed out of the horse mask, he realized the internal mechanics were on fire. “They take him out and he’s like, ‘Let’s do it again, let’s go!’ I’m like, ‘Dude, you’re a G, man.’ If I almost burnt to death, I would definitely not just do it again.”

At the film’s Sundance premiere, Stanfield was sanguine. “If it’s a mess, it’s a bleeding mess of authenticity. And if it’s a great piece of artwork,” his voice arching into posh frippery, “then whatever. This is the world’s now and I’m going to let them have it.”

The timing was perfect. The current news cycle, notes Stanfield, strikes the same tone as the film. “It’s been kind of like its own horror-tragedy-drama-comedy,” he says. The night of the election, Stanfield was on another plane as the results came in. Passengers sobbed in the aisles. “Although at that moment they were scared, they felt something, they felt engaged,” says Stanfield. “Hopefully this drives us to realize that we’re all stuck in this together, black, white, blue, purple, man, woman or anything else.”

Annapurna Pictures

Increasingly, progressive voters seem clued-in to Sorry to Bother You’s impassioned politics. Writer-director Riley, a former community organizer from Oakland, hasn’t held back from linking the ideas in his film to a larger crusade to wrest control back from the 1%. 

“Yeah man, let’s burn this b*tch down,” says Stanfield. “I’m optimistic in a sense that I still have hope. I get up every day and I’m like, ‘OK, it’s going to be a nice day. I don’t think everything’s going to self-destruct.’” He pauses. “But I kinda do.”

The numbers are on his side. So far, Sorry to Bother You has made back its budget six times over. That’s fantastic, but what most excites Stanfield is the people who dressed up like Cassius on Halloween—the true sign of a character that connects. He even saw a few photos of folks who’d turned themselves into equisapiens.

“I want people to dress up as me as black Joker, when that inevitably happens,” says Stanfield. He’s not kidding. Earlier generations wanted to play Hamlet. Today’s true artistic coup is landing the part of Batman’s lead villain. “I just think there are so many things that haven’t been touched yet in terms of how the performance can be delivered,” he says, adding, “When I make the movie myself.” 

He wants to direct. “All directors are so different, they all have their own approach,” says Stanfield. “They all wear hats.” But really, he wants to do everything, even, “like, a really bad movie, that’s just horrible.” Boom-mics-in-the-shot-horrible, something totally unselfconscious—which, in a way, is its own kind of impossible mission. “Bad transitions, weird stuff going on. Just like an unfolding mess of balls being dropped everywhere,” Stanfield beams. “I’d love to be in one of those.”

Wherever he’s headed next, Sorry to Bother You has put wind in his sails. “The sci-fi world meets black people—I think that’s a beautiful juxtaposition. To be fully realized, interesting characters, not always having to be, ‘Hey man! I just come home from choich!’” he says, adding a rasp to his throat. “Now, we can play a little bit, too.”

But for today, it’s finally time to relax. Stanfield’s car has found its way home. There’s only one problem: he doesn’t have a key. “It’s all good!” he shrugs, making himself comfortable on the porch. “I’ll figure it out!” No doubt he will.

Source: https://deadline.com/2018/12/sorry-to-bother-you-lakeith-stanfield-boots-riley-interview-1202518973/

[nofomoartworld]

Art F City: We Went to Frieze, Part Two: Pussy Hat Show Flops, Anti-War Hard On Holds Up

Frieze entrance

Yesterday we discussed the overall look and feel of Frieze and concluded that this iteration of the fair is far superior to previous years. Lots of lively inventive work and short on the kind of soulless work in a frame that can make these events so tedious. Today we take a deep dive into a lot of the art we saw. Let’s get down to the nitty gritty.

Anton Kern, Installation view.

Paddy: A booth full of a-list artist work, but none of it looked like crap they had left over from an old show. The lighthearted Nicole Eisenman statue heads with peace necklaces look like simplified characters derived from the Simpsons. The Anne Collier photograph to the left pictures a woman’s eye and a lone tear on her cheek. I felt uncomfortable viewing this work—like I was staring at a stranger crying on the subway platform.  

Michael: I didn’t realize these sculptures were Nicole Eisenman until you pointed them out to me! I had no idea she made 3D work, and I actually think they’re better than many of her paintings, which may have fallen into a bit of a rut on account of how prolific she is. At times some can feel a little formulaic to me, like her mark making and form language become muddled by a desire to read as both illustration-like and painterly. Sometimes the result is a painting that feels like dated graphic design. The sculptures don’t have that problem. It’s funny how often that happens with painters—I almost always think they make the best sculptors.

Tala Madani, “The Emblem,” Oil on linen, 2017.

Don’t get me wrong: There’s plenty of painterly, illustration-like 2D work I like. And this year, Frieze had a plethora of examples. Yesterday, I mentioned that Tala Madani painting at David Kordansky Gallery of the naked man crawling away from the viewer. There’s something so fluid yet awkwardly descriptive about the way the figure is rendered with an economy of wet strokes, utterly other from the alien “landscape” he’s crawling across—which is dry brushed and looks like silkscreen ink. There’s a logic to the difference in textures between the organic and inorganic that’s so simple yet rewarding.

Paddy: I also thought there was a good showing of sculptural paintings. For example, there were a bunch of small Llyn Foulkes paintings at Spruth Magers that resemble those on view at the New Museum a couple years ago that stand out. Most of these are the repurposed second hand store paintings he collages and builds up their surface, but there was also a Mickey Mouse painting. Foulkes sees Disney as the root of all evil, so sometimes the political message of work veers into dopiness, but the sheer technical virtuosity of these works gives them a faux-naive feel. In other words, the simplistic message seems important to understanding the paintings.

Left: Kiki Kogelnik, “Express”, 1972, oil and acrylic on canvas. Right: Kiki Kogelnik, “Untitled (Still life with hand), 1964, enamel and india ink on paper. Simone Subal Gallery.

Paddy: This booth of Kiki Kogelnik paintings falls into the trend of wacky figuration we identified yesterday in part one of our post. Kogelnik is considered to be Austrian’s most important pop artist, though like many pop-artists, she sometimes disputed the label.

The majority of the works in this booth come from her “Women” series, which pictured women as they were portrayed in commercial advertising. Knowing this made me wonder if the current trend of figuration might be informed by similar interests. Millennials are likely to be influenced by Instagram and Facebook, but the end result is similar—pictures of people looking happy.

Jeppe Hein, “Please Participate”, 2015, Neon Tubes, transformers, 303 Gallery

Michael: I don’t think I have ever had such a visceral immediate reaction of hatred to an artwork as this one. Is this like a parody of bad inspirational meme decor? What the hell is “SVING” and why do I need to do it after yoga?

Paddy: It’s so bad. This work was centered in the vortex of bad text art at the back of the fair and at some point, I think both of us had ended up walking in circles trying to figure out how to escape the area. It needs to be quarantined for the protection of fair visitors.

The best Jeppe Hein works I’ve seen take a jab at the “white cube” while simultaneously evoking the universal. Olafur Eliasson and Dan Graham are often cited in reference to Hein, and when his works fail, typically it’s because they are retreading well worn territory of 70’s art making. This cringe-worthy work fails in the same way an Eliasson might fail—striving for a universal by offering up prescriptive verbs associated with being content and self-aware. The problem, of course, is that it removes all the day to day bullshit that all this self-care is meant to deal with. It’s so simplistic a message it’s offensive.  

Michael: This is what I imagine would hang over the reclaimed wood counter at the gluten-free macaron bakery that opens to signify a neighborhood has gentrified to the point of being uninhabitable to all but the least self-aware. Or, in 10 years, their genetically engineered dogs with self-cleaning hair.

Karl Holmqvist “untitled” at Gavin Brown’s Enterprise

Michael: Gavin Brown’s Enterprise’s blindingly-bright booth is a bit of a head scratcher. It’s dominated by these massive Karl Holmqvist marker paintings with phrases like “HUG A HIPPIE; IT’S ALL THAT” and “HUG A HOE; HE’LL LIKE IT!” I’m not sure what to make of this and I am not sure anyone else did either—including the gallery staff, who at times seemed almost embarrassed by the booth?

Paddy: This is reminding me how little of the text art on view succeeded. Are these paintings supposed to thwart identity stereotypes and preach a message of acceptance? I assume these paintings are made with marker as a gesture to the protest signs we’re all spending our weekends making now. Fair enough, but they don’t translate well to an art fair environment. Protest signs are democratic by nature—these are just vessels for the uber rich to park their money.

Michael: It’s a shame these dwarfed Verne Dawson’s recent series of small oil paintings. Each of them is a bleak scene of low income quasi-rural-quasi-suburban sprawl. At first glance they seem to reference pastoral romantic landscape painting. Then it becomes apparent that all is not right: there’s a subtly acerbic clash of colors, the brushstrokes feel violent and unresolved, and the landscape is marred by highways and hastily-painted trailers. They’re a little hard to look at despite the fact that they’re great paintings. They feel very of this era—I think they reflect the unease (guilt? horror? sociological curiosity? alienation?) with which “our America” has been forced to look at “other America” since the election.

Paddy: While I agree this booth is a head scratcher, I actually think think those Dawson paintings held their own against the Holmqvist—no small feat considering the difference in scale. (Dawson’s paintings were no more than 18 inches wide while Holmqvist had an entire installation.) We both drew a lot of out of those Dawson works—but the other works in the booth, a series of crude renderings of Japanese homes received virtually no attention from us. I had to look up the photos to remember what they looked like, I have no image of the label and can’t find them anywhere else online. Those were the works that were forgettable—as is evidenced by the fact that we forgot them.

Cheim & Read, “Pink”, installation view.

Jenny Holzer, Truism on a marble bench

Paddy: In honor of the Women’s March and the sea of pink hats, Cheim & Read put together a booth of works defined by the color. I support the impulse here, but the result is a clear miss. For one, at first glance, the booth looks like a boutique outfitted for spring. Very little in this booth looks like it’s worth the money they’re charging for it.  For another, the text based works they had available—all by Jenny Holzer—either suffer from sentimentality or were simply too aggressively weird for viewers to feel anything but awkward. (I’m speaking specifically here of Holtzer’s tattoos, which contained messages like “I find her squatting on her heels and this opens her so I get her from below” paired with “I have the blood jelly”.) I overheard a sales consultant hilariously straining to spin Holtzer’s truism on a bench positively. “This one— “It is in your self interest to find a way to be very tender”—[pause] is a more uplifting message.” She smiled awkwardly.

Michael: So many of the Holzer tattoos left even me (notoriously immune to the gross-out) feeling icky. There’s lots of references to sex acts with questionable levels of consent, predatory stalking, menstrual shame, violence, and death… these deserved a much more seriously curated booth of feminist work beyond the “everything is like, totally millennial pink!” theme here. Of course, Louise Bourgeois’s fleshy bas relief of giant nipples was the booth’s stand-out highlight. Hung at head-level, they suggest the adult viewer could just open wide and get a squirt of breast milk, which is both funny and disgusting. Cheim & Reid missed a curatorial opportunity here. Starting with Holzer’s tattoo pieces and the Bourgeois, they could have seized on the body horror aspect of Trump (“Grab em by the pussy,” etc…) and run with that as a curatorial thread rather than fuzzy pink hats. This is actually an almost offensively reductivist approach to contextualizing feminist art.

Paddy: I totally agree with you. The whole point of this booth is to activate people against the misogyny of the Trump administration. Pink isn’t a concept—it’s a color. It’s unsurprising then that most of the work felt neutered.

(Left to Right) Ha Chong-Hyun, “Conjunction 01-2-8,” oil on hemp cloth, 2001; Chung Sang-Hwa, “Untitled 88-7-28,” acrylic on canvas 1988; and Park Seo-Bo, “Ecriture No. 68-78-79-81,” pencil and oil on hemp cloth, 1968.

Michael: At the other end of the color spectrum (or rather, off it), New York’s Tina Kim Gallery teamed up with Seoul’s Kukje Gallery to present a booth heavy with the big names of Dansaekhwa (a movement of monochromatic abstraction that arose in postwar Korea). I’m fascinated by Dansaekhwa for a few reasons. The use of cheap materials, emphasis on non-objective “labor,” and resistance to “beauty” makes the work feel like a bit of a sneaky protest against South Korea’s brutal 1970s dictatorship. I love the idea of seemingly inoffensive abstraction as a subtle rebellion against authoritarianism (how very different from Ray Bradbury’s vision of the art world in Fahrenheit 451!). The genre’s prisoner-number-like titles and dreary palette contribute to the dystopic vibe.

Ha Chong-Hyun, “Conjunction 15-150,” oil on hemp cloth, 2015 and “Conjuction 14-135,” oil on hemp cloth, 2014.

And seemingly, the art market loves Dansaekhwa too (there have been countless retrospectives on the movement at commercial galleries in recent years). It makes sense: everyone wants an excuse to frame collector-friendly abstraction with a good guilt-free backstory, particularly if it exists just outside the Western art history canon. I was a little taken aback by how many of the Ha Chong-Hyun works were from the 21st Century (I’m sure his older work’s been snapped up by collectors by now) and how it didn’t feel at all out of place with his peers’ work from decades ago. I like the idea that these artists (now quite elderly) have kept up this somber practice for longer than I’ve been alive and now they’re finally getting recognition (and seriously big paychecks) outside of a small-ish Seoul scene.

Yan Pei-Ming, “President-elect Trump,” 2017. At Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac

Michael: Speaking of anti-authoritarian impasto monochrome paintings, pussy-grabbing, body horror, and protest booths, I feel we’d be remiss if we didn’t mention Yan Pei-Ming’s horrifying portrait of Trump (one of the few on-the-nose political works we liked). This is America, directed by David Cronenberg.

Paddy: We can’t escape Trump—not even on an island art fair for the rich.

Gerd Stern, “Hard On for Peace,” 1963 at Carl Solway Gallery.

Michael: Actually, this is my favorite political work. In the Spotlight section of solo booths, Carl Solway Gallery had a really nice Gerd Stern retrospective with this “Hard On for Piece” slightly tucked away in a corner. I laughed out loud when I saw this, because it’s such a direct way of messaging desire—even for a goal as noble as the anti-war movement.

When one of the people working the booth noticed me taking a picture, he remarked “Pretty impressive, eh?” and seemed to imply that the sculpture was a cast of the artist’s actual erection, gesturing across the booth towards the real, live, in-the-flesh Gerd Stern. The artist, for his part, just shrugged “What can I say? I was a younger man in the 1960s!”

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