#like what people describe here as perfect urbanism is basically how i live (but way cheaper) and can't imagine living in suburbs

[knightofdeer]

Also kind of goes for weird statements about "USAmerican hyperindividualism corrupting our (European!) communities" because however useless the terms are USAmericans to me appear to be somewhat less individualistic than people here. Like I may be biased due to me specifically being like that or my region being like that, but just as an example, in my university the only people who had any bonds with each other were dormitory dwellers.

Like it's true that American culture can be described as individualistic in a way that individual is seen as the actor independent from surroundings or material conditions, but that's usually not what those people talk about. And either way we live in the same place, whom are you trying to trick with describing your homeland as some paragon of community and progressive ideas when you are literally European?

I really love it when people post about "fuck you yankee media you are destroying our culture and liking it is nationalism" and they are fucking French or Russian.

Like my guy, you are ultimately part of the same Western culture. Like I agree that borders between cultures are politically constructed (I don't know enough myself but some philologists say that from scholarly point of view SWANA cultures are as Western but they are not treated as such), but insisting that your culture is absolutely different is bogus. Moreover, it makes you sound indistinguishable from local nazis.

(And since I am vagueing @komsomolka's post, also indistinguishable from people who say that me listening to Russian bands and chatting with Russian communists means that I want to suck putin's cock)

[estellamiraiauthor]

The Stars May Rise and Fall: The Annotated Re-read (Chapter 1)

Hey there Tumblr, long time no see! Let’s try something fun and new!

So, a few years ago, when The Stars May Rise and Fall was first published, I tried to do an “annotated copy” as a giveaway—i.e. a paperback with all my little “making of” notes in the margins. That lasted… about three pages, before I gave up on writing legibly enough for anyone else to read AND on cramming everything I wanted to say literally between the lines.

But I still really do like the IDEA of a sort of on-screen commentary, and it’s feeling like about time for a re-read anyway. (Yes, I read my own book. Why write the book you want to read if you’re not going to actually read it, amirite?) So… why not do it here?

Feel free to read along, if you like. If you haven’t read The Stars May Rise and Fall yet but are just generally interested in Phantom retellings or whatnot, this first one won’t spoil anything you can’t get in the “Look inside” preview on Amazon, although future ones might. So grab a copy and join me?

Regret is a pretty strong word, and not one I’m sure I want to use at all about this book, which is very much the book of my heart, the book I wrote because I wanted to read it and it didn’t exist. But if I regret anything about it, it’s that I decided to make the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical the first version of Phantom I paid homage to. Now, I definitely don’t regret including the ALW Phantom in the MANY versions I ultimately ended up giving little nods too. Like a lot of angsty kids in the 90s, it was the version that really got me interested in seeking out others, after all. But seeing reviews (and before that, rejections from literary agents) saying that they stopped reading after two or three chapters because “it followed the ALW musical too closely”… maybe I should have modelled the opening scenes after a different version, or just done something entirely new.

Still, it is what it is. And back in 2004 or whenever it was when I first had the idea for a visual kei Phantom retelling, I didn’t really consider opening with any other format than the tried and true “Phantom character hears Christine character singing, reaches out through the mirror to offer help” kind of formula.

A lot of it was also shaped by the venue itself. While “Rock Eden”, the live house where Teru and his band most often perform, doesn’t exist by that name, it’s basically Meguro Rock Maykan—which is a real venue, that at the time looked the way it’s described in the book and is still in the same location. And I knew from the start that that was where I wanted to set my Phantom. While most live houses are standing room only, or might have a few bar stools at the back, Rock Maykan apparently used to be an adult theater (it was certainly SOME kind of movie theater; the adult part could be an urban legend), and as of 2000, when the book is set, had these old-fashioned theatre seats (which have since been removed) and a balcony that’s off-limits to ticket holders but could be accessed by venue staff and anyone with a backstage pass. I’ve also been backstage there, and the dressing room is (or was at the time), practically wallpapered with old backstage passes and graffiti… perfect for a story that so deeply involves the ghosts of both people and dreams.

So, the mirror was that backstage mirror, and “Box Five” was going to be that balcony. Because of course no one has private dressing rooms in tiny little hole-in-the-wall venues like this, I couldn’t have Rei, my Phantom, talking to Teru directly through the mirror, but I wanted that basic formula for the opening… for better or worse. Sorry, one-star Amazon reviewer?

One of the things I always kind of imagined people would ask me once the book was a big hit (haha!) was how, exactly, Rei heard Teru singing and managed to contact him. At one point, I had written part of that scene in Rei’s point of view as well, but ended up dropping that point of view entirely (again, to the chagrin of several reviewers). Maybe someday I’ll be famous enough to get to do a Midnight Sun from his POV? XD

Anyway, if you’re interested. Teru has a backstage pass that gets him into the dressing room (and the balcony, if he wants, but he doesn’t have any reason to want to go up there until later). But Rei has access to EVERYTHING, including places where only the venue staff would be able to go, thanks to Chizuru, his assistant-slash-former hair and makeup artist, who now works part-time at Rock Eden. This is never really laid out on the page, but my sort of headcanon is that the owner/manager (who also never appears on-page) is one of the few people in the industry who knows that Rei survived the accident that disfigured him, and that Chizuru basically got the job (despite having income from elsewhere) so that she could secure access for Rei so that he could continue to scout talent. Now, I don’t ACTUALLY know what the venue-staff-only areas look like (I’ve been backstage, but as a staff member for a band, not the venue itself)… but that’s at Rock Maykan. This is Rock Eden, the fictional version, so we can go ahead and assume that there’s some kind of back hallway that can’t be accessed from the dressing room, but is separated from it by a thin wall, and that Rei heard Teru singing and talking to his bandmates from there.

These shows also used to have flyers for each band. (I’m not sure if they still do; musicals and things have definitely cut back on the amount of paper they pass out.) Fans would receive a pack of flyers when they entered the venue, and Chizuru, as staff, could easily take a pack from the pile. So Rei hears Teru singing to himself, thinks he’s got the right voice for his music, and then Yasu comes in, and they start talking. At some point, someone uses Teru’s name, and Rei asks Chizuru to get him a pack of flyers, which he uses to figure out which band Teru is in. There’s only one Teru playing that night, so he’s able to use the flyers to figure out that Teru is the drummer from La Rose Verboten, so he knows who Teru is when he comes onstage, despite having only heard his voice before.

And I think he kinda falls in love right there. He doesn’t WANT to… ohhh, there are SO many reasons he doesn’t want to, and he doesn’t dare to think that there’s any chance that ANYONE would ever love him back, but somewhere, buried deep under a lot of trauma and denial, he sees Teru onstage—and Teru LOVES being onstage, he loves music and it absolutely shines through—and Rei, despite himself, wants to talk to him.

I think there’s a lot of internal warring with himself over the course of Teru’s set, which would be maybe 20 minutes long. Rei knows he shouldn’t, it’s SUCH a bad idea to reach out to this guy who’s got this beautiful voice but also is just So Gorgeous�� but he has to. And he has these business cards, because this was before you could just wave your phones at each other to exchange contact information and that was how you’d make connections, so he sucks up his fear and writes a note, and gives it to Chizuru before he can lose his nerve.

And Chizuru knew where to drop it because all of these bands are using the same dressing room, and a lot of them would have the same or similar equipment, so they write their names on electrical tape and stick it to their stuff, so she found the equipment that said Teru and La Rose Verboten and was able to leave it where he would find it. In case anyone was wondering.

The actual structure of the chapter itself… I’m still not sure if I love it. This opening was ROUGH for me to write, partially BECAUSE I knew that I was opening with kind of a cliché scene and needed to make it enough of a “hook” to make people want to read beyond that. There were literally maybe about 50 versions of it over the years, and I ended up with the current version, where the whole “hearing the beautiful voice through the mirror” thing has already happened and is being recounted as a memory in past-perfect, and the “present” of the story is Teru later that night, back in his apartment, going through the same kind of internal battle over whether he’s actually going to call this mystery number.

Of course, he does, and I think this kind of mirrors what Rei must have gone through earlier (so, maybe I should’ve kept that POV?). He KNOWS it can’t possibly be an actual talent scout or record producer… but Teru and Rei both, despite being pessimistic over a lot of things, always have a little spark of optimism buried somewhere in there, too. So he calls. And he falls in love just a little with Rei’s voice too, although he also buries that deep because he’s so firmly in denial about his sexuality at this point.

This is another point I get a LOT of flack about—how unrealistic it is that Teru would just agree to go to this guy’s apartment when they don’t know each other at all. And all I can say about that is… I definitely did similar things when I was Teru’s age (21). Was it the safest thing to do? Nope. Would I want my kids doing the same thing? Hell no, absolutely not. But do 21-year-olds do stupid things sometimes? You bet! So, yes, I have gone to the tiny Tokyo apartments of people I didn’t know very well. Including men. Including older men. And I was fine, not because that was a good decision—again, it is MOST EMPHATICALLY NOT—but because I was lucky. Like a lot of the people who do a few stupid things in their youth are.

As far as whether this fictitious character in a work of fiction is supposed to be a role model or whatever—it’s a novel for adults, about some pretty complicated and dark and occasionally messed-up stuff. (See also Rei’s struggle to accept his disabilities… is it the Best Possible Reaction™️ to the situation? Absolutely not. But you can’t say it’s not a reaction that a human being could feasibly have.) I think it’s pretty clear that I did NOT intend this to be some kind of morality lesson on how to have the perfect relationship and love yourself in the process. I understand that some readers want every bad decision to have negative consequences… in the case of Rei, I think a lot of the self-destructive behavior eventually does. But yeah, Teru does something stupid and dangerous and doesn’t suffer because of it… and that happens to real people too, every day.

I honestly think a big part of it, too, was my terrible-in-hindsight decision to list this as LGBT+ romance on Amazon. It’s a love story. It’s not a genre romance novel. These characters weren’t written to be “romantic heroes” and in the end, I do wish I had just listed it as general fiction, because I think I inadvertently set up certain stylistic, character, and plot expectations that the story was never intended to meet.

So. The beginning. I don’t really love it. But it’s certainly a hell of a lot better than the very very first draft from 2005, which was basically a shitty songfic of X Japan’s “Unfinished.” :P

[gatheringbones]

[“In talking about gentrification in New York City, you write about the “New People” who flocked to New York when it became a whitewashed symbol of post-9/11 patriotism. You say, “Their newness is not the problem,” since new people have always flocked to New York. What is the difference now?

It has long been a struggle to come up with a name for these people. When I started my blog, Vanishing New York, in 2007, I called them “yunnies,” a riff on yuppies that stood for Young Urban Narcissists. But that was too limiting, and too cutesy, so I dropped that. For the book, I wanted to coin some great term, but ended up with New People, which I’m not satisfied with either. What I mean is that these people are a new kind of personality type in the city. They’re not New because they’re newcomers; they’re New because they’re not like the sort of people who’ve historically flocked to the city and, specifically, to countercultural neighborhoods like the East Village. They often don’t feel quite human. They feel android-like, manufactured, and this is because — I believe — their personalities have been engineered by the culture of neoliberal capitalism, especially in the 2000s when social media spreads neoliberalism like a virus. In The New Yorker, Jia Tolentino just published an essay about “Instagram face,” what she calls a “single, cyborgian” look, and this is part of what I’m talking about. The New People are perfect neoliberal subjects, engineered to conform, perform and succeed, and this makes them quite violent in the way they enter and commandeer urban space — and in the way they approach people who are unlike them, who they see as beneath them. They are also violent toward themselves through de-subjectification, the process of hollowing themselves out. I find it difficult to empathize with them, though. I keep trying, but I feel so assaulted by them, I just can’t.

I love how you eavesdrop on your influencer neighbors to give us the flattened details of their lives. Surveillance has stifled so many of the possibilities of urban life, and yet here you’re flipping the gaze to examine the gawkers and their “contemptuous disregard.” What do you find?

“Flattened” is a good word and it describes well what happens when someone de-subjectifies themself; they smooth out all the bumps that make them human and particular. They are the cyborgian Instagram face, the flat sameness of the glossy catalog image, drained of all personality. And — here’s their violence — they aim to de-subjectify everything and everyone around them. This goes way beyond gentrification. This is about turning the entire urban landscape into a slick, frictionless, endlessly repeating Instagrammable scene, devoid of affect, risk and surprise. To create this nightmarish hollow city, many of us will have to be removed, and if we refuse to go, we will be controlled — by the police, by systems of surveillance, and by the contemptuous disregard that the New People throw like poison darts from their eyes. They are trying to annihilate us. To make us not exist.

At the beginning of COVID lockdown in New York, so many of these “New People” left the city.

The day lockdown began, in March 2020, they fled in droves. The people who stayed behind and roamed the streets were the sort of New Yorkers I used to know. I’m talking about the ordinary people who aren’t cyborgian, along with the poor and working class, the nonwhite, the queer, the weird, the unhoused, the old, the artists, basically everyone who’s not a New Person. So the city refilled with all this gorgeous subjectivity! It was like a cloud lifted and we could see each other again. We could feel each other and look at each other. We became un-alienated.”]

[helenarasmussen87]

Reading Update

It's going to be a long one since I've been voraciously working through my reading pile and I'm taking a leave so this is what I've been focused on other than writing and trying to get back to drawing like I used to.

Here we go:

Books that pissed me the fuck off:

-The Miniaturist, The Ladies of Cheateau Lafitte, Through a Glass Darkly: These books quite frankly pissed the fuck out of me due to using the LGBQTIA+ characters as plot devices rather than their own. Not to mention that it felt VERY stereotypical and badly handled.

It really irked me in "The Miniaturist" due to the people who the book was based on were real people and you could easily find their story and there were so many gross liberties taken with these people's lives that it was jaw droppingly appalling.

-The Maiden: An old series and the writing style clearly shows this. It was just intrigue, vague, incest, the Highland Uprising, and cousins destroying each other. Not very good, tbh.

-Tales of London: I was expecting straight up ghost stories, but those were minimal to the rest of the stories that felt like sociology and urban geography majors wrote ghost stories about the city itself. Not really what I wanted.

"Through a Glass Darkly" I understand the use of the gay husband trope more here due to the book written in 1987. Chateau used a slight lesbian angle which went nowhere and didn't add anything to the characters and this along with the Miniaturist irked me due to them being written pretty recently.

Now Books/Series that I was surprised at how much I enjoyed:

-Colourless Tzusuki Tazaki and his years of pilgrimage: A re read from 2015, but still holds up. I get it more now and the reveal is still as shocking as it was back when I first read it. I'm also convinced that this is like a spiritual sequel of Norwegian Woods.

-Before the Coffee Gets Cold-It was a slice of life with magical realism touches and it was sweet, short, and cute. Like a feel good vibe here.

-Heaven's Official Blessing series: I honestly am impressed at how the story keeps going because I am always surprised. Same with Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. I'm eagerly waiting for volumes 5 and 4 to arrive soon.

-The Scum Villain series: I didn't think I was going to enjoy it was much as I did. I'm not in RPG type stuff, but this series doesn't take itself super seriously and that makes it work when the character interacts with the system while he navigates the story.

-Blade of the Immortal: I'm revisiting this series because I LOVED them in my early 20's. My ex and some other people really put me off of reading manga/watching anime because they felt it was childish of me to read it. There's a reason why I don't have these people in my life now. The best way I can describe this series is that it is the Japanese equivalent of a Western themed revenger quest with GREAT pencil work.

I made it through the first omnibus and the story and the pencilwork still slap.

-Tokyo Revengers: Typical gang focus but with time hopping back and forth for love and for saving people from their own futures and selves. I've read four of the volumes and I am eager for more.

-Chainsaw Man: Not for me. I love the concept of Demons and hunting demons and Pochita (The chainsaw demon dog) but it's too nihilistic for me. Also how Denji is treated is questionable.

-A Man and His Cat: I love it as a slice of life story about a widowed concert pianist learning to live again after he gets Fukumaru, who is a very sweet kitty who was sure he'd never be picked. It's just great to see them both grow by being together and reconnect with the world and friends. It's a feel good series for sure.

-The Masterful Cat is Depressed Again: Another feel good series with a young office worker and her cat who is the perfect housewife. A feel good series for sure.

-Golden Kamuy: I am kind of annoyed at myself as to why I didn't pick this one up earlier. It's basically a Western set in Hokkaido while different groups search for a mythical gold treasure. The main guy fought in the Russo-Japanese War and his companion is an Ainu girl. The other players are an insane, but charismatic villain who wants the gold to push Japan into a hyper Martial state, the Ainu themselves, and others just wanting it for their own purposes.

It's like hitting all of my interest areas of Japan, the Ainu, and an obscure historical settings. I can count on one hand how many times I've come across media focusing on the Ainu. Not to mention the Russo-Japanese war.

It can be pretty gory at times, but the author knows to intersperse it with humour, cultural information, and some slice of life moments. The injuries are a bit out there at times, but the story is compelling. Good looking men too. I'm on volume 2 and so far, it's got my attention.

So that's it for the reading for now.

[kojinnie]

AOT Characters’ Modern Jobs Headcanon; The Vets Edition!

The jobs that The Vets would have in modern!au, their workplace antics and their back story. There might be some inaccuracies when describing the job as obviously I don’t work at these industries to know its intricacies. Most of the jobs are office jobs. Enjoyyyy!

My Masterlist .::. Pt. II: Zeke Yeager’s Modern Jobs Headcanon   

Most recent work: Dream Me Home (Before Shiganshina) | reader x erwin smith

A/N: I really need to finish a presentation deck due tonight for an early morning meeting tomorrow but of course, this comes first hahaha 

erwin!

A/N: Basically lawyer!erwin is the way to go, innit?

He's in his 40s, so he may have a settled career

He came from a white-collar, middle-class family. So he wasn’t silverspoon-fed, but his parents had enough money to put him through good school

Got a scholarship to go to one of the nation’s finest law schools

Kept it lowkey in college’s social circle, graduated with summa cum laude, developed a strong academic relation with his professor, and got recommended for an internship at top law firm at the capital city

Starting his career as a corporate lawyer, but then built his expertise as white-collar crime attorney

In his early 30s, he represented a union suing against conglomerate corporation in a big case that had national coverage, from then on he began to know his calling

Expanding his portfolio and became well-known for defending workers, consumers and civilians against corporate fraud scheme

Currently doing a lot of pro-bono cases for deprived victims of big corporate fraud. You would see him frequently gracing your local newspaper we love us some socialist king

On the side, he often writes for law journal and fills in as guest professor at local universities for summer courses

Established his own law firm with some of his partners, specializing in white collar crime and labor & employment law

He’s damn accomplished, but never really had any time for self-indulgence. Even after he becomes a household name in the country, with tens of attorneys working under him, his employees would still see him working on New Year’s Eve

He was always attentive to his employees, though. Although he has a very strict, borderline no-life work ethics, he never forces his employees to follow his habit, in fact he despises when his employees works on holidays and can be seen blaming himself for it a bit of a hypocrite but thats ok

He still takes metro to work. He prefers a very lowkey, ordinary lifestyle because he fears if he shows any knack for indulgence, he will be susceptible to gratification from potential enemies or crooked politicians

Definitely a sight to see at the workplace, for he's tall and always oozes a sense of authority in the way he speaks and carries himself generally

His emotional intelligence is top-notch, you would never meet someone who is able to be very objective and calculating, while being kind and compassionate at the same time

His fellow attorneys put a lot for respect for him, and hundreds of applicants come to his considerably small firm every week, because a lot of aspiring attorney find him inspiring to work with

He wasn’t oblivious to his shiny reputation, but he’s trying his hardest to not let the compliments get to his head. Sometimes he doesn’t give himself enough credit for it

Was approached by one of the political party’s committee to run for local senate, but turned it down

basically he’s perfect if you like a man who’s never home for christmas

Hange!

A/N: Ok ok, I really wanna see Paleontologist!Hange because it has always been my fave dream job, but I want Hange to be out and about with people so here it is

Hange is the type to be incredibly good at one thing, that she will dedicate her whole life for that pursuit, but will be awfully oblivious to a whole lot of things (not intentional of course, they just have a very limited attention span) (they wouldn’t know who kanye west is or what tiktok is)

Like Erwin, they came from a middle-class family. While Erwin’s parents might have been teachers, accountants or other common profession, Hange came from a family of academician and researchers

Hange studied Human Geography at uni, but later found passion specifically in its relation to industrialization and urban development

Hange aims to advocate for a better living condition for workforce, and nearby inhabitants of industrialized city detroit would be a beautiful city if only they let hange designed it

Hange is a professor at university, where they also led a non-profit research think-thank that also serves as pressure group for better government policy.

The university that Hange teaches in, is also the uni where Erwin teaches in summer. They’re close-knitted colleagues as they share similar passion. Erwin relies on Hange a lot for some intellectual insights to help his cases  

Hange is relentless in their cause, you may find Hange everywhere! From street protest to a hearing in the government court. They are passionate and will do anything for the cause they believe in

Hange was once hired by the government as an independent consultant for a new housing project, but left because they grew to be frustrated by the government’s bureaucracy and their outward reluctance to follow Hange's recommendation

Hange spends a lot of time overseas, consulting and advocating development in newly industrialized countries

On Hange’s birthday, her fellow researchers surprised them with a ‘pampering day’ where they took them to an optometrist because Hange had been complaining about their eyesight for a YEAR that gave them a lot of migraines, but was always either too busy or too lazy to go

Hange never really considers themselves as working, because they enjoy their job very much. Hange likes to spend months observing a community, talking to people for hours, and trying their best in understanding their problem

Out of so many great qualities that Hange has as a researcher that meets different set of people everyday, prejudice or preconceived judgment is completely absent in Hange’s demeanor and perspective

Hange doesn’t get a lot of free-time, even if they do, they’d wander around the city to do a little observation. But when the weather’s bad and they’re stuck at home with their pet lizard, they would logged into Quora to answer random internet questions

They’re an avid writer for National Geographic, and one time Hange won a pitch to make a documentary about an industrial city project they were working on

After the docu-series got broadcasted, Hange gained a small but passionate and loyal fans on the internet. You could even find a subreddit dedicated for Hange’s works

for real I want to be Hange. I want to have that kind of passion in life

levi!

A/N: I spent a lot of times thinking about Levi’s job in modern!au. Because here’s the thing, either we adopt his unfortunate childhood into its modern!au equivalent, or let’s just recreate his whole upbringing. But I think his personality stems from a specific things he experienced during childhood, so let’s not dismiss that.

Levi came from a struggling working class family. I reckon his parents might have had worked multiple jobs to sustain their living expense. Unfortunately they both passed away when Levi was very little, and left little to no inheritance

Levi’s parents were not close to their extended family, so when they died, Levi was admitted to the system and had to brace several foster families who didn’t really pay attention to him

Little Levi had come to realize that life’s all about survival and so he had been able to fend on for himself since very young age, he never asked for things

His uncle, Kenny, finally won custody over Levi when he was in elementary. Kenny made money from small-scale racketeering here and there. Levi never asked what he did for living, as long as he got food to eat and tuition paid off

Kenny was emotionally absent, but he loved spending time with the oddly quiet little child, teaching him a lot of crafts, from carpentering to how to flay pig’s skin

Levi didn’t really care about getting into college, and thought that he’d probably end up working for his uncle, so he put his bare minimum throughout school, although he was really good with numbers, especially in math, accounting and finance

One time in high school, Levi’s teacher asked him to sign up for the olympiad team, Levi turned it down because he thought that was a rich kid thing

He didn’t even apply for college, and worked odd jobs after high school. Probably working as cashiers or assistant to retail shop’s owner for couple of years, enough for him to afford a cheap studio apartment on his own

One of his bosses came to acknowledge Levi’s talent, and trusted him to handle the company’s accounting

By sheer luck, the company hit it big, and Levi found himself running the day-to-day accounting of mid-sized business with over 300 employees

He made good money already without a college degree, but with a new-found confidence Levi applied for uni, where he chose to study accounting (of course)

Although he was confident with his skills, he understood he needed to widen his horizon and network -- thus uni

Levi was one of the oldest members of his cohort in uni, but graduated with highest distinction

After graduating, with his skills and experience, it wasn’t hard for Levi to score a job at top accounting firm

There, he discovered an interest for forensic accounting, where through audits, analysis and investigation, he basically finds out if a company is doing fraud and embezzlement or not

This is where he came to know and get acquainted with Erwin and Hange (yippie they’re together again)

The firm he works for was assigned to investigate the finances of a troublesome company that had been sued by its workers for a jeopardizing working condition. Erwin was on the case, and Levi helped him with evidences for legal proceeding.

By chance, Erwin introduced Levi to Hange. At first, Levi would find Hange annoying and overtly energized, but after learning the things they have done, Levi grew to appreciate Hange’s passion (and secretly wants to have more of his positive outlook)

Levi is fucking good his job. In short amount of time, he could get a really ideal position in the office. He was almost foolproof, finding even the tiniest bit of discrepancy in his audit. He’d get assigned to the big league case/project.

Although really good at his job, he’s not a social person, especially in his office. He couldn’t understand the lavish lifestyle that finance and banking people often lead. He will only show up to office party if it is really necessary for him to show up (usually to receive some kind of informal awards for, again, being so fucking good) 

He leads a no-bullshit attitude at the office, largely because of his background. He is a self-made man, and is not easy to impress by some young executives from posh school that talk bigger than they can chew

His cold, seemingly dismissive attitude gained him a reputation of being scary, when actually he is very considerate

One of the things he enjoys doing is to actually teach, he really likes when a new kid at the office come to him with none of that pretentious, big talk, and really asks for his guidance. He would love to teach you a thing or two

He would frequently check on his mentee, just to keep up with their development

And he doesn’t take credit too. When his mentee makes a milestone, he believes it’s 100% your work

If you’re his mentee, he probably doesn’t give a crap about your personal life, so don’t expect him to make small talk about that (and don’t ask him about his personal life either). But he really cares about your skill and career development

Same with Erwin, he leads a very ordinary lifestyle. He doesn’t go out often and would rather reading detective novel with his cat on the couch

He likes to spend Sunday at Uncle Kenny’s house, because he finds himself worried about the old man very often. They became close as Levi grew

Overall, Levi is a really kind and caring person if you know how not to push his button

[stxleslyds]

MY TOUGHTS ON PART FOUR OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

THIS ONE IS A MESS.

But first a little rant about my feelings about Red Hood in general at the moment.

I am not going to lie, it took me a long time to read this comic, I am kind of tired of reading this book, I feel like I lower my expectations each issue that passes by and I still get disappointed at the result.

Maybe I just love a Jason Todd that is no more and I have to accept the one we have now, but here is the thing, if this is what we get then I just don’t like it, and on rough days I hate it. These are very negative thoughts about one of the two DC characters that I love and I don’t enjoy having them, I don’t want DC to keep giving us this version of Jason or these versions of Jason, each time they change little things that just change the character from the one that he once was even more.

I feel a bit defeated about it and I don’t know, on one side I want to fight and scream so they can finally give Jason the characterization he deserves and for them to give up the bland formula they have going on with him and on the other side I just want them to stop, stop writing Jason Todd/Red Hood and that is so sad, imagine loving a character and wanting the publisher to stop making content with them because what they give is just terrible. I don’t know, this is a rant that I felt like writing before I read the issue (I did skimm it briefly), so don’t take this as part of the review, its just me explaining my feelings right now.

Anyway, I will start the review now, sorry for the rant.

Wonderful, this book is on crack (or should I say Cheerdrops?), the thing with this particular issue is that I had a great laugh, it’s funny but in a good way, it's stupid and it kind of doesn’t make sense, the only way to describe Zdarsky’s writing here is with a phrase that we say here in my country “se pisa el palito”, which means that he lies about something and after some time he reveals the truth himself by mistake or because he got confused, in this case Zdarsky makes Jason say something like “this time I have come prepared” but he is actually not prepared at all and like two pages later (within the same scene) he has Jason call himself an amateur, it's very weird and to me it translates to Zdarsky not liking Jason or just not caring about him at all.

And that sucks and it really bothers me. As I have said before this anthologies book might be called Batman: Urban Legends but the particular story I am reading is a RED HOOD one, I am not here for Batman content, I am here for Jason Todd content.

The fact that we are not getting a Jason-specific story in a Red Hood book is killing me, it would suck if we get, let’s say, a Nightwing book and its all about his relationship with Barbara…That is not a Nightwing book, that’s a Nightwing and (fake) Oracle book.

Anyway, this issue in general is like a connector, the things that happen are all happening because they will be developed in the next issues but what is said here is absolutely absurd so I will be talking about that.

This issue starts with a flashback and Jason from the present (who is currently a popsicle because he fell in Freeze’s trap) having a monologue. The flashback is set when Jason finds out that his birth mother is alive and is being used by the Joker so he (in civilian clothes) and Batman at doing some reckon. What I want to dive into is the monologue because it's interesting but also very dumb so here we go.

“What was I supposed to do? I thought I was an orphan; I carried that sadness and anger everywhere I went and then I found the woman who gave birth to me halfway across the world. I found her…and the Joker. He was blackmailing my mother, forcing her to help him steal medical supplies, which he replaced with a deadly gas, that was being hauled to a village.”

“Batman knew what he had to do. Save people, forever saving people. Batman has always been a master of control, every situation, everyone around him. He’s always known just how to handle everything. Until I came along.”

“How could he be surprised? How could the great Batman not know? I wouldn’t listen to him and he couldn’t hear me. And the fucking cycle continues.”

The first part of the monologue is pretty simple it's basically setting the scene in time and space for the reader and it also gives us a little insight on how Jason was feeling at the time which was quite nice. It sets up the fact that Jason wanted to help his birth mother out of a horrible situation, he wanted to save her from the Joker. (Hear that DC, haters and fanon, Jason was a good Robin and a loving and caring son!!!!!)

In the second paragraph of the monologue I would have assumed that Dick never existed in this universe because the idea of Batman being able to control Robin!Dick or Gotham back in the day by himself is incredibly funny to me but because Dick exists and has been mentioned in this story already I will just take it as Zdarsky wanting to really push the “Jason could never reach the level of good Robin because he was reckless and nothing like Dick” and the “Dick was always completely obedient and Batman’s perfect little soldier” narratives. It sucks man, this is like bad fanon made real and I don’t like it!

During this part we also have a little dialogue between Batman and Jason where the narrative of Jason being so incredibly reckless is explicitly shown once more.

Let me repeat myself, Jason didn’t take on the Joker because he wanted to prove himself to the Bat or to prove that he was as good a Robin as Dick was, Jason did what he did because he wanted to save the last person that he had that he felt was family, he wanted to save the woman who birthed him and that he was hoping he could call a mother. He worried and cared for this woman and then he was betrayed and it ended up ending with him dying at the hands of a mad man that to this day is still alive.

Jason wasn’t reckless for the sake of being reckless, he took the decisions he took because he didn’t feel heard by the man that was supposed to protect him and care for him, a man that had the same feelings of sadness over being an orphan, a man that despite being the greatest detective to ever detective in the multiverse couldn’t understand that Jason felt like the woman that was his birth mother could come first in his list of priorities. Jason was a child and the adult responsible of him at the time bares the fault of his death as much as the mad man that committed the crime.

There, I fucking said it.

Gladly in the third paragraph of the monologue Jason calls out Bruce on his bullshit.

Also, what the hell was Bruce thinking leaving Jason stranded in the middle of the dessert, the man literally takes the only mode of transportation away from him. What the hell.

That’s it for the first glimpse at the past, now we are in the present with Ice!Jason where Zdarsky lies to our faces, he says that Jason is prepared for this situation…I am sorry but I do not believe this.

Anyway, Jason does manage to break the ice but he trips on the iced floor almost as soon as he breaks free and falls in a hole. Are you kidding me? I know this is supposed to be funny but Jason has been written as this incompetent dumbass in this book so much that this is just insulting.

He manages to escape for three or four seconds but he realises once more that the whole thing was a trap because Freeze had actually closed all the exists with ice because he meant to trap the Bat (also maybe Freeze is under the effects of Cheerdrops?), Jason also tries to use his guns even though he had already thought about the fact that they wouldn’t fire because of the cold AND he didn’t pack his explosives, yeah… “I am now prepared”, sure Jan.

The last thing we see in this scene is Freeze getting ready to ice Red Hood once more before we start jumping from past to present scenes as Jason’s monologue continues, he does that a lot in this issue, it’s quite impressive.

We jump into the past and we see Jason going to help his mother in his Robin suit, her betrayal and the Joker being ready to torture and kill a child. From there we go back to the present where Jason manages to ask Oracle for help but not anyone’s he asks for the Batman’s help.

First let’s talk about the monologue that happens across these scenes because it has some interesting takes.

“Stupid amateur, its not going to be okay, not if we keep repeating the same mistakes. He never trusted me, I never trusted him. Neither of us lived up to the idea of ‘Batman and Robin’, the ‘Dynamic Duo’. Because Batman and Robin requires trust, it requires knowing you can’t do it alone.”

Let’s be honest as per the modern take on Batman and Robin (if it includes Bruce as Batman) the dynamic is quite dysfunctional, Batman doesn’t know how to care for a child and children shouldn’t be responsible for an adult’s safety, so the whole thing has been weird for every Robin, its not something that happened only to Jason but here is the thing, in Under the Red Hood (which is canon in this story) when Batman and Red Hood fought side by side Bruce said the following: “…Neither of us has the strength to take him out, it will require skill and teamwork. It happens before I have time to question it, a manoeuvre that comes without thought, executed as practiced and practiced many times in the cave.”

So, him and Jason worked well, they trusted each other and the work they were doing but that is not all, because they are in the middle of a fight the Red Hood doesn’t act recklessly and takes the opportunity attack the Bat when he is vulnerable, he sticks to the coordinated fight because he trusts it will work. Batman’s thoughts confirm that because he continues saying this: “To complete it (the manoeuvre) I’m forced to leave myself unprotected from an attack, an attack from the Red Hood. But the attack never comes, he just takes cover from the blast, like practiced.”

– Batman: Under the Red Hood, chapter 10.

This thing alone, written in 2005 kills the narrative of Bruce’s Batman and Jason’s Robin not working well together.

Secondly, I have to laugh about what it's actually said in the very last panels. I am sorry but it's too funny to me, I know it acts as a parallel to Jason asking for the Bat when he was about to die but this is a man, a grown man that has experience on this job, this situation would have never happened if Jason was written fairly. This is funny because of all the people in the world I would never imagine the Red Hood asking for Batman’s help. Fuck that.

Oracle of course contacts Batman but let me say something really quickly, Barbara and Bruce are both acting like Jason getting in trouble and needing help is an annoyance. What the hell is wrong with these people? Why would Jason work with Oracle or Batman in the first place?

Batman gets in the Batmobile as soon as he can and dares call Jason his son. No thank you sir, I will not be taking that kind of bullshit today. Anyway, the Bat also has a monologue because he can’t be less, here it goes.

“Jason. Dammit, son. I’m on my way, I won’t let you…” (explosions) “You’re alive. In the here, in the now. I know this, like magic…with a curse…You’re alive.”

“I don’t need to be there again, in the past. I’ve learned my lessons, the guilt doesn’t help me, it doesn’t have a hold on me anymore. You’re alive, Jason and I intend to keep it that way.”

To this I have to say the following, the only reason why Bruce is not feeling guilty about what happened to Jason is because Jason forgave Bruce/Batman for not arriving in time in order to save Jason from the explosion back in that warehouse all those years ago. Jason forgave Bruce when the final confrontation happened in UtRH. He did it because he believed that Bruce tried and still didn’t make it.

- Batman: Under the Red Hood, chapter 13.  

And something else, Bruce might have been “keeping Jason alive” but he has harmed him. Rebirth RHatO #25 exists, I don’t know if it's canon within this particular story but I can’t not bring it up if this is what this man has to say.

My take on the Batman and Red Hood relationship is that it shouldn’t exist. Red Hood is not a Batman villain but he IS a Batman antagonist. STOP making Batman and Red Hood work together, with how things ended in UtRH Jason would never work with Bruce again. I am sorry but the concept of the Batfamily with Jason as a willing participant is the biggest lie this fandom and Lobdell gave us.

Enough of my takes, let's go back to the issue because it's ending is closer and the funniest panels in this whole ass book are coming!

Batman does Batman shit and as he grapples out of the Batmobile, he manages to get Ice!Jason out of a truck and everything comes to a stop, the bad guys come out of said vehicle and one of them is going in Red Hood's direction with the intention of killing him, Batman of course saves Jason and starts fighting the rest of the baddies.

I will show you funny panel number one.

You really want to make me believe that Bruce can pull that move, shut up!!!! There is no way! That’s some Nightwing level of leg work, stop it, if the Bat pulls that move he will break something or get stuck like that…

Ahh it doesn’t matter because as Batman finishes defeating all the baddies he goes to Jason’s side and here is where funny panel number 2 comes!

STOP IT, WHAT THE HELL IS THISSS? I am losing my mind over this, have you ever seen something and thought “oh this is wrong wrong” like what? This interaction is so wild to me, everything about it makes no sense…Imagine putting Jason Todd in such a vulnerable position that he is, I don’t know, happy or glad that the Bat showed up and that Batman would say that he will always be there for Jason, this shit is hilarious.

But that’s not the end, at this point nothing should shock me (as far as character designs) but this dude shows up…

Who the hell is this guy, and why does he look like that, why are all these new character designs the same and horrible? He reminds me of the weird discount-Joker-looking dude that we had in Rebirth RHatO #52

Anyway, the new dude that will be called Cheer (apparently) and Freeze ice Batman as well and that’s it, our Red Hood related suffering is over up until next month!

This one, this one was wild, I don’t know what else to say about it…I am honestly drained after reading the issue and writing this.

Let me know what you thought about this issue and if you want to read my reviews of the previous parts I will link them here! Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3!

[featuringthecreature]

Reviews for Every Movie I Watched in March+April

Kinda fell off on watching movies after January due to some mental health shtuff, but I’ve slowly been getting back on that horse and I wanted to talk about the movies I’ve seen, so here we are. Take my number ratings with a grain of salt, they’re mostly off the cuff and giving a movie a numbered grade is pretty arbitrary anyway. 

March 1: The Wizard of Oz (1939)  dir. Victor Fleming - 9/10

It is STUPID how good this movie is for 1939. I really do like almost everything about this movie, from the fun characters to the bright and colorful set design to the iconic music. In fact, the only parts of the movie I don’t like are that ugly ass Cowardly Lion and those godforsaken Munchkins.

March 1: Kick-Ass (2010) dir. Matthew Vaughn - 8/10

Even when Matthew Vaughn is bad, he is still amazingly fun, and this movie is by no means a bad movie. Nicolas Cage gives the best performance, I love his delivery on some of his lines. This movie is so much fun y’all. Just watch it, you’ll have a good time. (And yes, I know both Quicksilvers are in this, you don’t have to tell me) 

March 13: There Will Be Blood (2007) dir. Paul Thomas Anderson - 10/10

This is a fuck-you movie. This movie curb stomped me, spat in my face, and told me I’d never make it in this industry. I don’t need to tell you this movie is incredible, ‘cause if you’ve seen it you already know, and if you haven’t you are seriously missing out.

March 14: The Philadelphia Story (1940) dir. George Cukor - 7/10

I had a hard time deciphering how I feel about this movie. I watched this for a Classic Film course, so I had a couple days to listen to and share some deeper analysis, and I feel like this film is actually pretty good. I don’t have any strong feelings on it, check it out if you like classic film.

March 14: Moulin Rouge! (2001) dir. Baz Luhrmann - 8/10

This movie is bombastic as hell, and even if this is a bad movie, it’s a good movie in my soul. Ewan McGregor, please return my calls.

March 15: The Ruthless (2019) dir. Renato De Maria - 5/10

I guess this movie just isn’t for me, I don’t know. I really do like Riccardo Scamarcio in this movie, but that’s the extent of the really good things. I was on a “Santino from John Wick” kick, I can’t really explain it. 

March 20: The Host (2006) dir. Bong Joon-ho - 9/10

Bong Joon-ho has never disappointed me once, and I don’t think he ever will. This is one of the best monster movies I have ever seen (granted I don’t think I’ve seen a lot of monster movies). Watch this movie, it has a wonderful heart and a wonderful monster.

March 20: Citizen Kane (1941) dir. Orson Welles - 10/10

Anything I can say about this movie has already been said, so I’m going to leave you with “I wrote a paper on this film and got a C so fuck this movie” and call it a day.

March 27: Sound of Metal (2019) dir. Darius Marder - 9/10

I am so glad a watched this movie. Riz Ahmed gives an award winning performance if only he hadn’t been competing against Anthony Hopkins. Paul Raci is also really, really good in this movie, and I don’t think that’s mentioned as much, and I think it should be. 

April 6: Casablanca (1942) dir. Michael Curtiz - 9/10

I did not think I would enjoy Casablanca as much as I did, but yeah. This is a great movie. I wanna go on record and say Humphrey Bogart is not tall, he is 5′8″. He wears pumps in this movie and they’re really funny to look at.

April 10: Dr. No (1962) dir. Terence Young - 7/10

This was my introduction to the Bond universe, and I thought it was a pretty good way to get me into the character of James Bond. Sean Connery is the strongest part of this movie as Bond. It is by no means a perfect movie, some aspects are extraordinarily outdated. But as a first crack this movie gets two thumbs up from me.

April 18: The Godfather (1972) dir. Francis Ford Coppola - 10/10

This film is truly something special. I am lucky that I was able to experience the story basically blind (I knew about some specific plot points and some famous lines, but for the most part this was all new to me), and I was extra lucky that I got to watch it with my dad. Being able to watch The Godfather with someone who has a deep love of the genre and the film itself is something that enhances almost every movie going experience. The Godfather is one of the greats. 

April 19: Mank (2020) dir. David Fincher - 6/10

I am not in love with this movie. I don’t hate it, but I don’t particularly like it either. The production design is great, and as a general appreciator of classic cinema I liked those aspects just fine. There’s just something in here that’s preventing me from fully liking this movie. 

April 21: Judas and the Black Messiah (2021) dir. Shaka King - 9/10

The only way I can describe this movie is “important.” King gives us a story of a often left out part of the Civil Rights movement, and it’s a story that everyone should be aware of. Fred Hampton was only 21 when he was assassinated, and yet he left such a mark on the fight for racial equality. Daniel Kaluuya absolutely deserved his Oscar win, he is a dream in this film. This is an uncompromising, tragic, and endlessly relevant movie.

April 23: The Father (2020) dir. Florian Zeller - 10/10

Yeah I cried. Anthony Hopkins is... I don’t think his performance can be summed up in words. It’s heartbreaking, everything about this movie is soul-crushing. 

April 24: Promising Young Woman (2020) dir. Emerald Fennell - 8/10

(You can tell I was cramming for the Oscars at this point) It is really hard to review Promising Young Woman. It’s incredibly polarizing to the film community, and it’s also polarizing in my own opinion. I really don’t know how I feel here, all I know is my feelings are strong. Also every time Bo Burnham was on screen I had a big stupid grin on my face, I can’t wait for his new special to come out. 

April 25: Nomadland (2020) dir. Chloe Zhao - 9/10

What a beautiful experience. This movie, on top of being absolutely gorgeous, has such a wonderful soul that completely shines through Zhao’s directing. There’s a monologue about maybe a half hour in that describes so succinctly the beauty of nature, and as someone who lives in a much more urban area of the world, it’s a description that I don’t get to see that often in my life. That’s why I love film. If Promising Young Woman made me angry at the world Nomadland made me fall back in love with it.

April 25: Minari (2020) dir. Lee Isaac Chung - 8/10

Watching Minari is like being gently set on fire. My feelings aren’t as strong as they were for Nomadland, and I don’t have much to say, but I still adore this movie and think it’s worth watching. 

April 26: Singin’ in the Rain (1952) dir. Gene Kelly, Stanley Donen - 8/10

I think my film teacher puts it best in describing this movie as “just so stinkin joyous.” That’s what this movie is, it’s joy put to film. I love how you can clearly see the excitement over making film that comes through in older movies, I feel like you don’t really see that anymore. 

April 28: Some Like It Hot (1959) dir.  Billy Wilder - 7/10

As glaringly outdated this film is, I still managed to have a pretty good time with it, although I can totally see why the plot could put some people off, or even make them outright dislike the film as a whole. Marilyn Monroe playing a ukulele made me feel very seen. (This is my first Marilyn movie as well!)

April 29: Snowpiercer (2013) dir. Bong Joon-ho - 8/10

CHRIST this movie is intense. The best part of Snowpiercer is it is engaging as hell. Unfortunately I had to duck out about three quarters of the way through to get some dental work done, but rest assured under different circumstances I would have been glued to the screen from start to finish. The premise is chilling (ha ha, get it), and the subplot of class disparity is also really compelling. If you know me you’ll know that I love me some John Hurt, Song Kang-ho has been great in pretty much every movie I’ve seen him in, TILDA FUCKING SWINTON rocks every scene she’s in. My only real problem here is sometimes Chris Evans is a bit hit or miss for me, I really like his performance at times, and I like it less at others. It has been cool to see him grow as an actor over the years, you can definitely see his improvement in more recent movies. In any case, I stand by my previous statement, Bong Joon-ho has never disappointed me once, and I don’t think he ever will.

[clarste]

listen-and-reflect replied to your post:

Um, just wondering, why aren't you around much...

… I’d be curious to hear your thoughts on Arknights. I’ve paid no attention to it whatsoever, but if it impresses you, I’m curious.

To boil it down to its component elements, I’d describe Arknights as “urban fantasy catgirl tower defense gacha.” If any of those words viscerally disgust you, there’s probably not much I can do to convince you otherwise, but personally that was enough to intrigue me. And what I found when I tried it surprised me in a good way. Honestly I’ve been struggling for like a month for how to talk about this, but for the purposes of this post I’ll boil it down to three major elements: Aesthetics, Worldbuilding, and Gameplay.

First of all the Aesthetics. Might as well start with a picture or three:

For the record, yes, 90% of the characters in this game are women, and there’s no explanation for that, that’s just how it is. I am 100% fine with that because I am a Touhou fan. Anyway, what I want to draw attention to is the way these women are portrayed. IE: they are posed/costumed to be seen as “cool” and while they certainly aren’t unattractive, it isn’t in a horny way that emphasizes their breasts or butts or anything. It’s not a perfect “practical clothing only,�� I mean high heels aren’t great for fighting and there are other characters who show more skin, but the philosophy carries through in all the official art: these are cool, capable women who are never once reduced to sex objects for the male gaze. I respect that.

Also you don’t get to marry any of them which is a huge plus in my book.

It’s hard to say any more on that without moving on to the Worldbuilding. Basically, the world of Arknights is both blessed and cursed with a magical rock called Originium which is the source of all their problems. First of all it’s a miraculous power source, the resource that fuels the engine of modern society. Not only that but it can be used as a medium to cast actual magic spells (which is of course a well-studied phenomenon that’s treated as a science). On the other hand, its very presence warps the environment, causing large-scale city-destroying natural disasters on a regular basis. And more importantly for the conceit of the narrative, it can get in your blood, eventually causing an incurable disease called Oripathy which involves your body slowing turning into crystal from the inside out. Basically magic rock cancer. Later stages of it involve visible “crystal lesions” growing on the skin, but even internal growths can have serious medical problems. This is sometimes shown in character designs too:

This is important to the worldbuilding because “The Infected” are a major source of discrimination and political unrest. Oripathy is only mildly contagious (you’re more likely to get it from mishandling the rocks directly), but the stigma of it is such that anyone with Oripathy is immediately quarantined, exiled, or worse. Both the player characters and their enemies are generally Infected, with the “good guys” (scare quotes intended) being a medical institute that takes in patients to treat the symptoms and vaguely hoping for a cure someday, while the “bad guys” are revolutionaries violently overthrowing the society that treats them as subhuman. There are analogies you could make to HIV, leprosy, or heck even current events with COVID-19.

Anyway, I say all this so I can turn to the in-game character profiles and how they’re structured. Specifically, they’re all medical reports written by the doctors of your institute (who are themselves playable characters who are Medics in-game):

(Incidentally everyone uses codenames in this game). Anyway, my point is that these are not neutral, objective “word-of-god” profiles, these are the facts as they appear to some particular person in-universe. In Touhou terms, these are written by Akyuu: some clinical facts mixed in with rumors and speculation. And I absolutely love that.

More than that though, we get this amazing invention:

Why yes, that is an in-game chart of all the characters’ relationships, grouped by people who belong to the same organization, that fills in as you play. And yes, raising trust with characters by using them does fill in the names of people close to them who you haven’t met yet, as well as new connections to unknown people. Who is friends with Croissant?! I must know!

Er... Anyway, I think having this chart in-game is quite frankly a genius move on the part of the developers, since it gets you immediately invested in seeing how the characters are connected. But wait, there’s more! When you pull a dupe from the gacha, you get a little token that can be used to upgrade a character slightly, pretty normal. But even these little tokens have tiny bits of story on them!

These are the items that are important to these characters, and they can change the way you see them. Every little thing in this game has story attached to it! It’s incredible! And they actually tell stories with these things. There’s one in particular that fascinates me (and others), but unfortunately I have exactly 0 of the characters involved so I’ll have to pull quotes from the wiki.

There are three characters from a faction called Rhine Lab: Ifirit, Saria, and Silence. The details are pretty vague, but basically Ifrit is an Infected child with incredible Originium channeling powers who’s been experimented on, and Saria and Silence are two doctors who were involved in those experiments but had a falling out after an experiment gone wrong. But how does the game tell you this? Well, lots of ways. Saria’s profile is the most explicit:

The relationship between Lady Saria and Rhine Lab is very complicated. Though all Rhine Lab Operators who work with Rhodes Island show some amount of respect for Lady Saria, Rhine Lab's Medic Operator, Silence, shows nothing but hatred for her. At the same time, Lady Saria appears unsurprised by Silence's feelings toward her. Whenever Lady Saria attempts to talk with Caster Operator Ifrit, Silence gets in the way. According to available information, the animosity between Saria and Silence stems from an experiment at Rhine Lab led by Silence. The experiment was an unfortunate failure. Lady Saria acted alone in suppressing the experimental materials that had gone out of control. Similarly, because of this experiment's mishaps, Lady Saria left Rhine Lab. It is not known why she chose to cooperate with Rhodes Island after leaving Rhine Lab.

But then you have Ifrit and Silence’s tokens:

A long novel telling a legendary story. It is badly burned and you can only barely make out the words.

A patterned feather decoration. This ineloquent researcher from Liberi shows her sincerity by gifting her own feathers.

But oh gee, guess who are wearing feather tokens in the designs?  (it’s Ifrit and Saria)

Also here’s Silence just so you aren’t left wondering what she looks like:

Anyway, the point is that the writers know how to throw tiny bits of characterization and hints of an untold story into literally everything in this game, and that is exactly what I live for.

Oh yeah, there’s also Gameplay.

Game’s pretty fun:

I enjoy it as a game too.

[insomniacowl]

Doing philosophy with Fullmetal Alchemist (FMA), and Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (FMAB)2: Conversation between structuralism and post-structuralism.

Abstract

This essay aims to compare how the idea of the “Principle of equivalent exchange (PoEE)” is explored and framed between the two series Fullmetal Alchemist (2003) and Fullmetal Alchemist brotherhood (2009). The 2003 anime series will be referred to as FMA, while the 2009’s brotherhood series will be referred to as FMAB.

 FMA animation series that aired in 2003 is very different from FMAB. FMAB is a closer adaptation of the source material.

 For the uninitiated, take this as a spoiler warning. But to give it a try because it is still one of the best Shonen anime out there.

 Introduction

The aim of this comparative essay is not to say which is better. I believe that both have unique qualities that make them great in their own right. The bleak atmosphere of FMA contrasted with the upbeat Shonen element of FMAB are not two things that can be compared side by side in their entirety. However, there are constitutive materials that lie under what is needed to tell a story such as character development, world-building, and symbolism. This analysis compares how the idea of “Principle of equivalent exchange) (PoEE) is explored, and developed through the characters, mainly Edward, but also of Alphonse, “Father”, and other supporting characters. This essay argues that FMA takes a structuralist view, while FMAB takes on a post-structuralist one.

 Problem of PoEE

In both series, Alchemy is explored and defined as a tool of oppression by the Amestris state. They are incorporated into the military to serve as machines of mass destruction in times of warfare. This is hammer home repeatedly throughout the series, with state alchemists being called the “dogs of the state” and being dealt with weary, or hostility by many non-alchemists.

The institutionalization of Alchemy into the military war machine can be seen to parallel the enclosure movement of our world. The object that once existed for the use by the community, being fenced off and appropriated to benefit the rich capitalists. This creates resentment, and negative externalities, such as the forest being cut down and the land being used for mining in our world, or alchemy being used for military purposes in an authoritarian state.

 The reasoning given for the enclosure movement, that denies access to the land once used by the community is that it will result in the depletion of resources if everyone is allowed to use the resource as they wish, and thus it should be incorporated in the rational capitalistic logic. This idea is contradictory, as it comes from the capitalist logic that comes from the mind of the rich, who assume that their greed is natural and universal, while ignores how the commons were used by the community for centuries without depletion. This capitalist logic resulted in the destruction of the land and the livelihoods of those who needed to live off said land.

 The idea of institutionalization of what was once a common property, with their own implicit cultural rules attached, being appropriated by a destructive social system and destroying lives, is well displayed in the two series as well. There is the already mentioned use of alchemists in war, but I would like to focus on the scene that is going to be always talked about if one talks about FMA, Nina and Alexander.

 The transfusing of Nina and Alexander, or even Nina’s mother with an unmentioned animal by Shou Tucker, in his effort to become a state alchemist suggests several things. First, the institutionalization of the commons into a destructive social system compels those living in the system to disregard the wellbeing of others, and care only for themselves. Second, it shows that Alchemy may have more laws attached to it then is discussed in the story. I say this since Dr.Marco when he practiced medicinal Alchemy to heal people, the people in the town did not think of it as Alchemy, pointing to the fact that Marco did not discuss this to anyone, and that the majority of people in the state of Amestris does not know what Alchemy looks like (a similar argument can be made of the people in the town of Riol, and Father Cornelo in the first two episodes). Izumi who is highly skilled is not seen using her Alchemy to earn a living or help people around her, and the vast majority of people do not perform Alchemy, even though it was something (even if the bothers are described as geniuses), the Elric brothers were able to master before the age of twelve. Thus, we can say that there are likely rules in place to prevent people from attempting to hone their skill in Alchemy; gatekeeping it thus there are very few opportunities for Alchemists to earn a living with their skills, even if it means sacrificing their humanity as Tucker did. This allows us to draw parallels with our world where people who were chased out of the common land, moved into urban cities to work in factory lines, being exploited and separate from their species-being. 

 Using this framing, let's dissect how Nina’s death influences the character growth of Edward with his iconic line of “We are neither god nor devils. But just mere humans”. In both series up to the very end, this haunts brothers. But there is a difference in how it is shown and explored.

 In FMA (2003)

The incident with Nina is a traumatic experience for Edward in the 2003 FMA series. Even up to the final sequence, where Edward is thrown to the other world, he repeats the iconic line. Yet here, he digs into the idea of PoEE as a theory that needs to be further explored to uncover it in a true form; he believes that by viewing the Alchemy as a language to convey meanings across, is not yet perfect, but is something that can reach perfection with effort.

 The idea of thinking PoEE as a concrete rule set in stone is present in the world-building of FMA. One example is Alphonse losing his memory of his journey with Edward in the final episode, which is regained when he travels across the ‘gate’ leaving his old world and power of Alchemy behind. Thus one thing is directly exchangeable with the other and it is the job of the Alchemist to codify into language what is the value attached to each object of trade. This idea that there is a monolithic book of law that can be interpreted and codified into one single set of ideas and beliefs is the basic understanding of structuralism. Therefore, we can see that the idea, that by paying a certain price, even the dead can be brought back to life reminds us of how the lives of people under capitalism are robbed of their qualitative values and are distilled down to quantifiable that can be exchanged, losing their humanity in the process.

 The belief in the PoEE as the only form of knowledge results in greater hardship, and both Edward and Alphonse cooperate with Shou Tucker at one point or another due to it. When the brothers are made aware of Tucker’s effort of bringing Nina back to life, they help Tucker in this. But not only their attempt at helping tucker but thinking of this with the character of Sloth shows how the idea of PoEE can be problematic. The two brothers’ failure to bring Trisha Elric, their mother back to life resulted in the loss of their body/ limbs and serves as a reminder of their mistake in breaking the law of Alchemy. While in FMAB, learning that what they transmutated was not their mother happens early in the narrative, thus the understanding that the dead cannot come back to life brings the brother into a better path. However, in FMA, their human transmutation resulted in the creation of a Homunculus that looked exactly like their mother that carries with her pieces of Trisha’s memories. This difference is one of the reasons why the brothers assist Tucker’s effort in bringing Nina back to life and believing that modifying their understanding of Alchemy, yet relying solely on it; thinking of using Alchemy blindly to solve the problem that the very Alchemy brought about, without the consideration of how it may create further problems.

 In FMAB

In FMAB, it is Nina’s death is again a source of despair for the relevant characters, yet it also serves as a motivator. Even up to the final episode, they cite the reason for continuing their travel, Edward westward, and Alphonse to the east, to gain knowledge of other forms of practicing understanding-deconstructing-reconstructing outside of Alchemy. This motivation is made possible due to the brothers’ journey throughout the series, interacting with various characters from outside of the general Amestrian race, such as Ishvalians and those from Xing. They further cooperated with these groups and fought to save the people of Amestris, making use of the multiple systems of understanding outside of Alchemy.

 The theme that different forms of understanding being co-utilized to fulfil societal goals as being a more useful lens of understanding the world is further elaborated in the darkest hour of the fight with “Father” (I’ll refer to him as Dwarf in Flask (DiF) from here on) when Ed’s automail was destroyed, Alphonse’s body shattered, and everyone knocked out. It is with the help of May’s Alchahestry, along with Alphonse’s Alchemy that allows remote transmutation of Edward’s arm. Even if PoEE was in effect as Alphonse’s soul was taken in exchange, without May’s Alchahestry, Edwards’ body would have been stolen by DiF and it would have let to a very different and bleak ending. This co-utilization of theories of Alchemy and Alchahestry in cooperative ways to supplement where the other lacks and creates problems, and vice-versa, creating a complex and cooperative system of knowledge is a way to understand post-structuralism, that we can never reach a full understanding of anything by using one way of studying the text, but having a diverse way of analysis that results in the play of interpretation can bring about a more comprehensive understanding of the object, and therefore improve the society as a whole.

 In his conversation with Gracia in the final episode, Alphonse cites the motivation of travel as, to prevent further atrocities that happened to Nina from happening, and posits his hypothesis of what I will name “compounding compassion”, something that is summarised as “pay the kindness you received forward with a little bit of your kindness added on top of it”. Or perhaps, the kindness Hughes showed the brothers, Hohenhime‘s offer to exchange his life for Al’s, or Winry’s reply to Edward’s demand of exchanging half of each other’s lives already show that even without having to go far, we can see that PoEE is not enough to explain every observation made. Al’s hypothesis is something I believe that can be practiced even in our world, and that deep down, we all want to celebrate such act of kindness. A community we can trust to support us and that we desire to support as well; one that can be joined by yielding one’s tool of oppression, as Edward did with his “Gate”. This, I believe is the message Arakawa Hiromu wants to convey to us.

 Conclusion

We can see that FMA and FMAB tell the different message and can be used to think of the influence of structuralism and post-structuralism, in terms of having certain knowledge systems. Although I do not believe such comparison was meant to be drawn by anyone who had a hand in the creation of the series, having such case studies is an enjoyable mental exercise to perform. tl;dr Both are great series. I did some philosophy. GO WATCH THE SERIES!!

[jq37]

so...... thoughts on the first ep?

**spoilers for start spreading the news**

What is UP you guys? The new season of Dimension 20 is out and your girl is back (implies I left, which is false) with only the hottest of takes.

Usually I vomit up my opinions with little rhyme or reason and, don't worry, I'm not changing that format any time soon. But, because of the structure of the episode, I think it'll be easier to use headings and go through each character/element of this. So let's do this y'all!

The Setting

I think the best thing you can do as a writer or a creative person in general is the make something that only you could make, you know? Like, make the thing that only someone with your specific life experiences and weird brain could have come up with. And I really think that this is that for Brennan. I already talked about this in other posts, but the version of NYC that Brennan created for this game is that to me. Like, magical NY has been done, but the specific details? Who else could have written, "The annual SantaCon is actually Santa dumping all of his defective clones into NYC where the magic barrier that keeps normals from seeing magic will disguise them and the protectors of the city will be able to deal with them"? That's so specific and so wild and so New York and so Brennan.

And I haven't lived in NY for so long but I've had one winter here and the way he describes what it's like to walk down the street during winter in the city is so real. Like smelling garbage then laundry detergent then sugared nuts from those corner stands and you're freezing and then baking in the subway in your coat. That was so so real. (I will be saying this phrase a lot so get used to it now)

And I like that he didn't make the obvious choices, you know? Like we've had three, like, magical figureheads across D20 and those are usually classic old, white, possibly British roles, you know? Like a Gandalf or a Dumbledore. But he had Aguefort in FH and now Esther and Alejandro in TUS. I just think it's cool that we're getting some different archetypes to fill these roles instead of the same dude c.p'd in again, you know?

Also, the fantasy NYC map is so dope. I wanna go back and try to read everything on it when I have the chance. 

Pete

Ally is a DRUG DEALER. I thought Pete was gonna be a stripper but he's a DRUG DEALER. Honestly, I could have figured this out sooner if I'd just checked Urban Dictionary like I did just now and found out that "plug" means "someone who is a resource for obtaining something valuable that would otherwise be difficult to obtain" or, more simply, "drug dealer". But I'm glad I didn't because it was much more fun to find out in real time.

Ally makes some character choices sometimes that are too specific to not be rooted in life experience and that whole microwave cheese monologue was one of them.

Pete's official diagnosis is that he has "a lot going on."

Ally almost won MVP line of the episode with, "Shot my tits off." Murph losing it in the background killed me almost more than the actual line.

I really, really want Pete's doctor to be a recurring character because he is wild in how wild he isn't. He has so much wild stuff happening around him and he is in a wild line of work but he seems like a relatively stable guy. I love him. Also, the completely wrong cadence he used to say, "lgbt ally" was gold.

Is Ally ever gonna have a character with a good relationship with their parents? One time? Ever?

I literally don't even know how to begin to address the wild magic trip Pete went on. Like, I don't think Ally knew what they were doing when they decided to be a wild magic sorcerer. I don't think they knew what kind of challenge they were issuing to Brennan. And after seeing the wild nonsense Brennan consistently came up with for Jer'ih'meh in Bloodkeep, I can't want to see the insanity he spits out for Pete.

"You're the one who they they wanted to play a wild magic sorcerer."

Also, Brennan just using lyrics from "New York, New York" for whatever dream demon or whatever was going on in that trip was, like, equal parts clever and hilarious. Sidenote, do you think all the ep titles are gonna be from songs about NY? I mean, there are enough songs I bet.

Pete has this thing where he constantly lands on the exact wrong part of the situation to focus on. Like later when he gets stuffed in the magic closet at the hospital and he's like, "Hospitals are so advanced, also go much is this gonna cost?" Ally's comic timing on that is always perfect.

WILD that that was the first intro. Like, way to kick off the new season with a bang.  I really wonder what this episode would have felt like if this was the last intro or if the intro for the two normal people hadn’t been right at the top. Actually now that I’m editing, I feel like we almost got the intros from least experienced w/ this stuff to most experienced. Because Pete is a total noob. Sophia is also a noob but she has met Kugrash at least once. Then you have Ricky who’s only been in this for about a year. Then Kingston who probably has more experience than Kug by years but Kug has been a rat man his whole life (presumably). Finally Misty who is probably like a BS amount of years old and steeped in this stuff. Honestly,  if I was DM’ing, I might have fudged the die rolls to look exactly like how it turned out. 

Sophia

Emily describing her character and slipping into her character voice gradually as she went on was so pro.

"Like if Fran Dresher went on an Amy Winehouse bender." I love her.

"Did you not want baby bangs?"

"She's a WHOO-OAR."

I'm gonna die if Brennan make than woman an actual succubus because of an offhanded comment.

My favorite thing is when Emily is saying some nonsense and she can barely even get through it without breaking. Also, Murph is so visibly amused by Emily's entire intro. It's great.

I love that both of the "normal" characters spent most of this episode intoxicated in one way or another.

So Emily absolutely won the episode in my eyes for coming up with one of the sickest burns I've heard and in real time. A dude tells her to read his dick and she, after only a momentary pause, says, "No I'm not gonna read your dick (beat) because I don't read short stories!" Brennan doesn't even make her roll. He just narrates her success. The table goes wild. The bar she's at goes wild. Zac specifically is cracking up. Like, I feel like this is gonna be a little bit of a deep cut reference but did any of you ever play the Monkey Island games and do the insult swordfighting? That's what that scene was. Amazing.

Murph's, like, entire posture and expression (@ 1:24ish) when Emily is saying Sophia thinks she saw a giant rat man who gave her an egg sandwich and Gatorade is total gold.

"Gotta kill some brain cells to kill the ones with the memory of Dale in them."

OK so funny story (funny to me at least) at the Fantasy High live show, I was talking to some other girls who were there and we ended up talking about how the small of a woman's back is basically the worst place you can casually touch them outside of the really bad places and how viscerally terrible it is so when Brennan said one of the trolls touched one of the girls there and Sophie/Emily was like BIG NOPE, I had a That's So Raven flashback to that conversation immediately.

Emily leaps into action...and rolls a nat 1 to fight a bunch of trolls. She actually does really well in the rest of the fight though so that's good.  

Oh, also Siobhan made everyone dope themed dice boxes!

Ricky

I hope Dimension 20 runs for the next 10 years and I hope Zac plays a good, big, doofus in every single season.

"He's basically like Superman if Superman were Japanese." Love.

Also, I love the distinction that he's 5' 8" but buff.

Ricky surrounded by a raging fire: First of all, that's a cool bear.

I like the way that Brennan skinned the cleric and paladin powers for this game so they're more about values than deities. I was wondering how it was gonna work in this setting and I think this was such a cool way to handle it.  

I really think Brennan has a great handle of presenting certain things in such a way that it's interesting for the players as well as the audience. Like, when Ricky is trying to escape the burning apartment, he puts an obstacle in his way that forces him to use his Paladin powers (to create water specifically). It's not really a hard "puzzle" or something he has to roll for, but it introduces to the audiences that he's not just a firefighter. I just think it's really cool that he's able to pull off narrative things like that without actually controlling the characters. (And, props to the players too, of course, for being so consistently entertaining).

"Mr. March."

Ricky in the middle of the winter: I'm not as tan as I used to be.

Ricky rooftop runs like a freaking superhero.

OK, this is barely related to what I'm talking about right now but it's important to me that you all know this. I commented in an earlier post that Ricky clearly had circus music playing in his head at all times and then I was like, "Hmm, I wonder what that one circus song is called." You know, the song that you think about immediately when you hear the phrase "circus music" so I looked it up and APPARENTLY it is a CZECH MILITARY MARCH known alternately as (brace yourselves) ENTRY OF THE GLADIATORS and THUNDER AND BLAZES. I kid you not. That's actually what that song is called. I called my brother and told him immediately. OK, back on topic.

Is a questing blade a thing? I feel like it's a Thing from legend or fairy tales or something but, when I Google it, I come up with basically nothing.

Does Ricky have a thing for Esther or is he just a super awkward texter and nice guy who does not want to be set up by his sister for a different reason?

I need Brennan to explain how the Santa Question works in this world. The question being, "Why don't parents freak about the gifts they're not buying?" and, side question, "Why don't poor kids get presents?" My go-to answers are always, "He Jedi Mind Tricks into thinking they bought them," and, "He has to work within each family's socio-economic means in order to not be obvious." So there are def plausible answers. But, like, this is something I like to see addressed when we're doing the "Santa is real," thing.  

"I grew up with twins and one of them was worse than the others so that makes sense."

"Is Santa good?"/"The ethics of it are alarming, I won't lie."

So, my paranoid thought for this episode is I'm a little Concerned that someone down the line (maybe Esther, but hopefully not) is going to take advantage of Ricky's Big Dumb energy and his "It's the right thing to do," mentality and manipulate him into doing something Not Great. Like, it's not based on anything besides mainlining a ton of media over the past 24 years but I'm just gonna keep an eye out.

Re the Santa/Peppermint Zombification: Hey Brennan, turn your location on. I just wanna talk.

I have to say, from the bottom of my heart, what the hell?

That creeped me out in the same way that episode of Adventure time where Princess Bubblegum (infused with the primal elemental candy energy or whatever) turned everyone into Candy people and everyone started singing Let Me Call You Sweetheart. What a weirdly specific body horror thing for me to encounter more than once. That one peppermint tooth thing is gonna haunt me. 

Kingston

I gotta say, props to Lou for pulling a complete 180 on the kind of character he picked this time around. He went from playing this super extra rich pretty boy to this salt of the Earth quasi patriarch and he's just as comfortable with it. Kingston is so real. I went to church with like 50 guys like him back home.

Why are you fighting so hard about free food Kingston? Take the free homecooked food Kingston!

The intensity of his, "I will be here until I die," was hysterical.

Mentioned this before but I love the flavoring of the cleric class where instead of being attuned to a deity Kingston is basically attuned to the entire city. Also, the perks are excellent. Bus service anywhere for free. Sign me up.

I like that Ricky's sister works at the hospital. It's a really cool potential connection for later.

"We're gonna take the thing outchyo butt. We're not gonna deny you medical services."

"Aint nothing wrong with being a freak." --Kingston Brown

Fantasy creatures having to deal with updated tech (like the Toll bridge trolls talking about EZ-passes) is one of my fave urban fantasy tropes.

"I've got a really sweet smelling man here!"

"Yeah, my tooth fell out and now it's a candy. Hey, how much is this gonna cost?" This is what I’m talking about. Priorities my dude.

I love that Kingston knows Pete's weird mob doctor. It seems like part of his deal is that he just knows everything about everyone in the city (within whatever parameters).

Pete says, in quick succession about Ricky, "I feel like he would bully me," and, "He seems like a golden retriever," which I feel are almost mutually exclusive statements.

Kugrash

Well, I asked what kind of druid nonsense was happening in Central Park and the answer is Murph apparently.

I really wish I could have been there when Murph announced he wanted to play a literal rat.

"I am the shit that feeds the flies. A dumpster druid."

"Wherever you are rat Jesus, I love you." You're killing me Brennan.

Aww Kugrash goes around feeding the homeless and stuff. He's like this grumpy ass rat man who really cares about the community.

"Santa you fucking bum." --Kugrash

"I'm sorry are you a rat?"

The idea of a roach with a hobo sack pisses me off because it's adorable but roaches are the worst.

"Is Santa dead?"/"I don't know. I'm not religious."

"Santa Claus is real and he's DEAD."

Brennan loves to use the modifiers "full" and "fully" and I have picked it up irl and in my writing.

"Let's get a little fucked up and go see if Santa's dead!"

Just that whole squirrel interaction.

The sixth borough huh? Interesting. I see you Brennan.

Also, the detail that Kug's clothes are made from old MTA vests is great.

Misty

Siobahn is playing basically exactly the character I thought she'd be playing but she's doing it so much better and more extra than I could have imagined.

"A lady would never say her age, so I won't."

Is her pianist magic or something too? I have my suspicions.

So Misty gets some kind of bard and/or fairy high from praise and adoration which is interesting.

What kind of weird, morally dubious and/or unpleasant fae thing is Misty gonna have to do soonish? It's not gonna be good. Fae stuff never is.

DON CONFETTI

"I don't study magic. I just *am* magic."

So many of these intro vignettes end with, "You don't know that...but you do know who does." Like I said before, I really love the weaving together of all the story threads to get everyone in the same place at the same time in an organic feeling way.

Also he makes all these transitions sound cinematic, like he's writing the description parts of a movie script and not narrating in person.

Public Library! I knew we'd end up here eventually but I didn't know it'd be pretty much immediately. Like, if you're going w/ the "NY is magic" premise, the library has to figure in, you know?

Emily immediately having Sophia recognize Ricky as Mr. March was such a funny and on point character decision. I love how one-off, spur of the moment lines end up being running jokes because other players pick on them and drop them an hour later.

"Are you a rat?"/"Yeah, I'm a rat man!"/"I'm sorry if that was rude."

Brennan: The lions are alive and they're boyfriends.

Misty and Siobhan both are genre savvy enough to want to nip a knights/knave door puzzle situation in the bud.

Ricky on escape rooms: I'm not very good at them but I can definitely try my hardest. (Guys, I love him so much.)

Love me some MC Escher steps.

Underrated Misty line: It's all infernal to me.

Misty's little, "Ugh" at learning they have to go to Times Square is the real NY experience.

Is this Alejandro dude gonna die? What's the over under on this dude eating it very soon?

Misty encouraging Pete to shoot Alejandro is so needlessly chaotic which is a common fae trait and I really hope this escalates.

I dunno what Murph rolled for initiative but he looks like he just shamed his entire family line.

And we’re fighting an army of crazed Santa clones next week! We have literally just started and we are already fully off the rails.  I cannot *wait* to see where we go from here if this is the *starting point*. 

[dachi-chan25]

I had books that I either loved or hated so idk maybe I need to do another unhaul to ensure I read books I'll actually enjoy.

1- OtherEarth (Otherworld #2) by Jason Segel

🌟🌟

So this was a big disappointment. It started out fine, but I had this bad feeling about what the twist of this book would be about 50% into it, and then the twist comes and it was just as bad as I feared. Honestly I don't even know if I wanna continue with the last book, I have it but honestly I can't say I am looking forward to it, it wasn't just the plot that fell down but the characters felt pretty inconsistent and yeah not a fan.

2.- Fireborne (The Aurelian Cycle #1) by Rosaria Munda

🌟🌟

The only thing I knew going into this was that it was inspired by Plato's Republic and that it was similar to Game of Thrones, so maybe that is why I found it pretty underwhelming. Like yeah I could see why it was based off the Republic with this system of education (tbh I still found it pretty basic and very much alike to other social systems I've read in other YA books) and there was some intresting tid-bits but not enough to keep me intrested. Now the characters, I liked both individually (unpopular opinion but I liked Annie more, I thought she had real potential but it was wasted because the moment she and Lee have this romance her character completely lost herself on thinking about him and what he did all the time) but I do not think they worked together romantically. There is some potential drama for book 2 but I am not intrested in reading it.

3.- The Mistress (The Original Sinners #4) by Tiffany Reisz

🌟🌟🌟🌟

This book was so good. Yeah it was super predictable, but the drama tho. I really loved Layla, she gave us an outsider's insight on Søren and Nora's relationship, and she is just the sweetest that I instantly knew she and Weasley were gonna get together. I cried at that last confrontation scene with Nora and Marie Laure and I am so happy that Nora is back together with Søren because they are truly a good couple despide everything.

4.-Gods of Jade and Shadow - Silvia Moreno Garcia

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

I LOVED it. Ever since I saw the cover I was sold. This book I feel like it was meant for me. Like our protagonist Casiopea Tún is a dark skinned mexican girl of mayan descent in the 1920s who meets one of the lords of Xibalba and goes on a quest to help him retake his throne???? And on the way he falls in love with her so much he is about to forfeit his divinity to have a chance to be with her. I just, it was so beautiful, I felt my culture was really represented here, and it's so wierd to see the 1920's represented in Mexico I don't believe I had read something like this before and I will read anything Silvia Moreno Garcia writes from now on. Hopefully we will have a second book for this because that ending makes me wonder what adventures Casiopea will have.

5.-Little Gods by Meng Jin

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

This book blew my mind. The structure is perfect for the themes . Su Lan was a truly fascinating character though I felt very sad about her, always wanting to escape her past and thinking she was so undeserving for anything good in her life and still fighting to go on. The ending was so good, and all the cast of characters made an excellent conection between the past and the future.

6.- As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Yeah I am a pretentious ho. I was very intimidated by this book (and anything written by Faulkner really) and I was really having trouble understanding the book at first because the prose is so particular (there are sentences that read like Shakespeare, some are almost Biblical stuff and then most of the dialogue is this very coloquial english with very poor ortography) and as English is not my first lenguage I struggled. But then we get to Addie's death and all this odyssey the family goes through to bury her, and it was so beautiful and exciting. I especially loved everything about Addie's chapter, she was so much better than her husband and she deserved better than what she got. I really liked Dewey Dell and Darl. While I hated Anse Bundren with a passion so the end really made me angry like waaaaat this selfish asshole gets everything he wanted and then some??? But I got why it made sense for the book. So I definitely recommend this, but my advice is to let yourself glide through the book, do not try to understand or make sense of it as you start it because then you become frustrated like it happened to me at first but it's a really beautiful book so I am really considering reading more Faulkner.

7.-Chosen (Slayer #2) by Kiersten White

🌟🌟🌟🌟

I enjoyed this book so much. It's a very easy read and we get some growth on Nina and Artemis. I liked the idea of the Watcher's Castle being a refuge for inofenssive demons. And omgggg I fangirled SO hard when Oz, Harmony and Clem appeared (my fave characters, like literally I only need a Spike cameo in these books to be completely happy). I really wanna see Nina meet Buffy in real life and ahhh I am excited for whatever the next book will bring us.

8.-Out of Salem by Hal Schrieve

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

This is perharps my favorite book I read this month. It felt so relevant to things that are happening in the world, but escapist enough to bear it. For starters I love a good urban fantasy setting, and this was it. Z was a great non-binary protagonist (the fact the author is also non-binary also helps) like it was pretty original to make them a zombie when necromancy is viewed as wrong in their society and they get discriminated for it even though they knew nothing about how it happened to them. And their friendship with Aysel (lesbian muslim werewolf girl!!!) and Tommy (shapeshifter boy) was amazing. Like the way this book translates real life bigotry and social injustice to this magical creatures was truly amazing I recommend it to everyone of any age. Especially middle graders as this book is meant for that age group and I feel this is an amazing diverse read for that age group.

9.-El murmullo de las abejas de Sofia Segovia

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Realmente este libro es precioso, soy una super fan del realismo m��gico y este libro realmente me toco el corazón. Aunque he de admitir que entre a este libro sin saber nada, y bueno que este libro pega diferente en el 2020, yo no tenía ni idea que este libro nos presentaba la Pandemia de Influenza Española de 1918, y bueno es bastante triste leer todo lo que paso cuando nosotros estamos pasando épocas muy similares. Simonopio es un personaje divino, poseedor de una sensibilidad y una inocencia verdaderamente fuera de esta mundo, y la forma en que la familia Morales lo adopta y lo abraza tan profundamente dentro de la familia es realmente hermosa. Fue muy difícil leer acerca de Anselmo Espiricueta porque puedo ver de donde venía todo ese odio y esa ignorancia que terminaron en tragedia y no puedo dejar de sentir lastima por él a pesar de todo el mal que hace durante el libro. Recomiendo mucho esta lectura.

10.-Riot Baby by Tochi Onyebuchi

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

A book so relevant in our current times. So powerful and impactful even if the book is pretty short. We get to see how the systematic racisim at work. We get to get a glimpse of this awful reality through Kev and Ella, two gifted siblings that have lived this experiences in different ways and they cope with this in vastly different ways.It was such an intimate read I cannot begin to describe how angry and sad it made me, but also very glad I got to read it because we need to keep being aware that this is the reality for black people all around the world and they don't get to shy away from it so we shouldn't either we should see, learn and fight as hard as we can to change things for the better.

11.-Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

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I re-read this book to have it fresh in my mind before the new series airs on July. And I liked it better now than the 1st time. This world is so scary because I see so many realistic elements it shares with the present. I felt a lot for Lenina (for everyone who lives in this world really) because she wanted more than what the society had to offer yet was so deeply conditioned as to what was right that she could just supress her emotions with soma. This book is of course full of racist and sexist stuff (cuz woman and indigenous people can never win) but I feel it helps to get a feel about how fucked up society is as a whole. In the reservation woman are subjected to the usual slut shaming and gender roles we get in our society while in London we get a world in which woman are judged for not sleeping around and being happy and infantile. Like it seems controling woman and their relationship to intimacy and sex is always a bit theme is classic dystopic books which makes a lot of sense given it works like that in the real world too. Same thing with indigenous people being treated as savage to congratula te ourselves for being so much more "civilized" never stopping to think how deeply fractured and flawed this may be. We also get explotation and brain washing of working classes and all that fun stuff. Really and amazing book eerily accurate tho.

12.-Brick Lane by Monica Ali.

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This is the story of 2 very different Bangladeshi sisters with very different temperaments making their way through life. Nazneen is a very dutiful daughter that marries the man her father picked for her, moves to London, though her husband doesn't make her happy she tries very hard in this foreign country with so many desires of her own she wishes that she always supresses because of her upbringing. Then we have Hesina, she was always beautiful and runs away with a guy she was in love with, later he abandons her and she gets jobs and loses them because different man keep making her fall for them to abandon them later. Different as they are this 2 Sisters keep relying in each other through letters. I thought it was very moving, and I really liked the ending for Nazneen while Hasina left me feeling worried and unhappy.

13.- Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

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I was very hyped for this book and I am so sad I didn't like it. I just didn't feel the world building was cohesive (we have space travel but we don't have baths??? And rapiers as weapons??? Most of it felt like aesthetic decisions) the characters felt very one dimensional to me. And the plot was all over the place, just when I thought I knew what it was about it takes another turn and introduces so many generes but it did not feel natural at all so yeah I will not be reading the next one.

14.- Luces de Bohemia de Ramón Maria del Valle Inclan

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Me pareció una obra maravillosa. Definitivamente captura el espíritu creativo bohemio.

15 .- Don Juan Tenorio de José Zorrilla

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Yo adoro el Tenorio, sin embargo si que he de decir que prefiero la versión del Burlador de Sevilla de Tirso de Molina pues siento que el final es más adecuado. Me parece que aunque la prosa es hermosa Doña Ines pierde mucha agencia en esta versión, me recuerda mucho más a Angelina de la obra "El Honor del Brigadier" que la versión que hizo de ella Tirso de Molina, definitivamente se romántiza mucho más está figura de seductor canalla en esta versión, aun así es una historia arraigada en México, es una tradición para mi verla cada Noviembre, este año me temo que no será posible así que disfrute muchísimo leerla.

[aaaa-mpersand]

Just Use Your Hogwarts House Traits...

DISCLAIMER: I wrote this like, 2 years ago, when I was way young. Obviously, now we know that JK Rowling is a jackass, so I want to clarify that I don’t support her or her work. The story itself isn’t about harry potter, but it does use a harry potter reference as a punchline. Anyway, summary is that this is a funny vent story I wrote about interviews, because they’re awkward and there’s a lot of pressure and I never know what to say. It’s an urban fantasy about a young witch who’s just as pretentious as Holden Caulfield but funnier (I hope?) and a demon in the woods who does her math homework for her. They’re at an interview. This is basically a crack fic. ––––––––– "How would your friends describe you?" 

I tilt my head to the side as I consider his words, hyper aware of his gaze. You’d think they’d transfigured hawks, put ties on them, and told them to run interviews by how he’s looking at me, occasionally making notes on his clipboard even though I’ve yet to say a word. The fluorescent light above us continues to hum with electricity, bathing the room with glaring light that make the walls even paler. I tap my fingers on the stainless steel desk, thump my dirty sneakers against the perfect blue carpet. I can see the notes he’s scratching into the notepad, even though the wooden back of the clipboard is faced towards me. I can see it like someone hooked up a spy camera behind him and linked it up to my head. Dyed red hair––obviously symbolises her secret affiliation to secret organizations. Wholly unprofessional, and she fools no one. Trekked half a forest full of dirt into my office with those mismatched shoes––no respect for property and communal spaces. Hair uncombed, bad posture, chipped nails, and fidgeting suggests poor work ethic and unpreparedness. Denim skirts went out of fashion two decades ago. The obviously hand-knitted scarf she’s wearing looks like the crap I gave when Melissa told me was late because her car broke down suspiciously close to the nearest Starbucks. I think she’s trying to use it to cover up the horrendous pimple on her nose–– “Excuse me ma’am,” he says, his voice bleeding irritation leashed back by iron-willed politeness. “Would you please answer the question?” “What?” I ask, jerked from my thoughts. His thin lips crease into a brief frown. It’s an honest question, but people with ties and clipboards hate it when you say ‘what.’ He sighs through his nose instead of his mouth. It fools no one. “The question, Miss Chant.” “What was the question again?” A vein I hadn’t noticed before in his neck bulges. I can’t blame him. We’ve probably been here for longer than he expected. “How would your friends describe you, Miss Chant?” I lean back in my seat to consider it again, and he almost looks like he’s about to turn into a ball of flames and burn a hole through the floor. It would be funny if I were doing this on purpose, but I’m wracking my brain like a senior five minutes from the end of their final exam. Hard-working? Too generic, and Aunt Way would hold it over my head every time she wanted me to do laundry. She has a way of knowing these things. Team player? Absolutely no one in my life would let me live that one down, and I doubt he would believe me either. “Miss Chant.” I can feel his annoyance and anger rising like a storm, and my thoughts turn frantic. Unique? No one cares about that. Expressive? Just about the worst way to sell yourself to someone like Mr. Hawk Interviewer. The solution dawns on me, and I almost knock my chair over in my haste to get up. Wordlessly, frantically, I motion for him to wait, pulling out sharpies and tealights out of my coat pocket and accidentally dropping a few colorful hair bands in the process. He opens his mouth to protest, the same way he did when he was trying to stop me from wearing my big bulky coat into the interview in the first place, but I’m already out of my seat and crouching on the floor. “Miss Chant, what are you doing?” “One second,” I say, and before he can say anything else, I pop the cap off the red sharpie and start drawing symbols I’ve doodled and traced since I was a toddler. He splutters––they always splutter––but I pay him no attention as I place the tea candles in their respective spots. “Miss Chant!” He gets up. That’s always a bad thing in an interview, but I can’t think about it now. He wouldn’t listen even if I tried to explain. You can always tell what type of people wouldn’t listen even if you tried to explain, and Mr. Hawk is one of them. Before he can take another step, I pull a lighter out of my pocket and quickly light all of the tealights. He pauses, as if scared to accidentally knock over a candle and set the whole place ablaze, but his efforts are futile, because I mutter a few words under my breath, and the whole room is engulfed in flames. Or at least, that’s what it looks like. Mr. Hawk makes a strangled sound (I take it back, he’s not a hawk, he sounds like an ostrich who smoked too many cigarettes when he was a teenager) but I barely blink. You get used to the room being swallowed entirely by harmless, piercing white flames after the first twenty times. It’s barely for 2 seconds, however, before the flames disappear with a crack, and in the place of my messily scrawled symbols, there is––

"A cat,” he says, finally, looking as if the purring ball of fur on the carpet floor was about to sprout wings and laser eyes. “That’s a cat.” “Yes,” I frown. The cat’s coat is a pure white. The only one of my cats who’s even close to this color is Timothy, and I sold him to the man next door last week for seven AA batteries. “And it’s not one of mine.” “You mean…” he clutches his clipboard tighter––I’m surprised he’s even still holding it. “It wasn’t supposed to be a cat?” “Well, it isn’t,” I say, deciding to answer him honestly. “Just give it a moment. Sometimes these things are finicky.” I squint at the carpet around the cat, trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong. (It’s a little bit like math sometimes. You stare at the problem until you figure out what simple mistake made the whole thing give you a completely inaccurate answer.) This time, it only take a few sweeping glances before I notice the issue. “You’ve knocked over my tealight!” I say, irritated, scampering over to the candle at the interviewer’s feet. In his terror, he must’ve flipped it over. He mumbles an apology, but I barely hear it as I pull the tealight right side up, grimacing at the spot of wax that had stuck to the navy carpet. The janitors would have a hell of a time cleaning that up. Looking back just in time, I see the cat stand up, suddenly alert. Ordinary at first, and then its back legs bulge to the size of a basketball, then to the size of a table. The interview visibly pales––I almost feel bad for him, but it’s what you get when you mess up a simple summoning––and the cat pivots upright. Fur turns to leathery skin and scales, claws elongate, horns push out of its scalp like a plant sprouting in fast motion. The whole cat––or well, not really a cat anymore––swells ten times their size, turns a dull, bluish grey, and then opens their slitted gold eyes.

Their lips curl into a wide grin, revealing yellowed fangs. “Colin!” “It’s Kerin,” I correct him, politely. They squint at me for a very long time, bending down so their curled horns don’t scrape at the ceiling. They only stop when their face is inches from mine, and I struggle to keep my face straight when they breathe lightly on my face. It smells like a boy’s locker room after a three hour long football game. "Long time no see!” they say after a long moment, straightening and then banging their horns against the ceiling so hard it leaves cracks. They barely seem to notice. “What do you need today, Miss Colin. I have this week’s math test already completed, answers verified, if that’s what you––” “––No thank you,” I cut in quickly. My not-so-honorable testing habits were not something I want to flaunt in the present situation. “I just need you to tell me how you would describe me.” Their brow furrows in confusion, and they peer around the room, gaze falling on the interviewer, who is clutching his desk to keep from fainting. “Are you at an interview or something, Miss Colin?”  “Yup. Internship.” They frown. “Are you sure you’re allowed to summon me around here? “They said they wanted interns who were good problem solvers and could think out of the box,” I reply, which is not really a lie. They seem satisfied with the explanation, however, and tap at their chin with one large, scaly finger. “What question did he ask you, Miss Colin?” “How would my friend describe me,” I say. They crack a bright, genuine smile at my implication, but it’s hardly old news. Supernatural creature or not, they’re the only one that can stand me. "Just use your Hogwarts house traits!” They say, throwing their hands up and accidentally carving deep scratches into the ceiling. The interviewer chokes out a small scream––I almost forgot he was there––and swallows in terror. They carry on as if they hadn’t even noticed. “I found that advice on tumblr. It’s crazy how much useful stuff you can find on that such a freakish hellsite." “I don’t like Harry Potter,” I say, but when both the interviewer and my friend gape soundlessly at me (though, probably for different reasons), I quickly amend my words. “I mean, I liked the books and all, those were great, but the movies were terribly done. I mean, the whole ‘did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire scene? And don’t even get me started on the Cursed Child––” “But you’ve got to have taken the Pottermore sorting quiz before, right?” they asked, the words almost sounding like a plea. I sigh. “Yeah,” I say, “I got ravenclaw.” “That’s great!” They say, breaking into another grin of good intentions and rotting teeth. “I got hufflepuff. It’s too bad we’re not house buddies––” “Yeah, but I need you to tell me how you would describe me,” I say, my patience growing thin. It was only a matter of time before the interviewer stopped staring at me like I was an alien species and started yelling about the scratches on his ceiling and the wax on his carpet. “That’s why I called you here.” “Well,” They tilt their head to the side, tapping their finger against their chin. “You’re funny.” “This is an internship. They don’t care about my endless wit.” Though I had to agree it was one of my best traits. They press their lips together. “And you’re kind. You come to visit me every day, or whenever you can. You’re really smart because you like to read, especially about space and stuff. You’re really brave, cause one time you got stuck in a fairy circle but you didn’t even panic, and all you did was tell the fae that you would rip out her perfect teeth from her jaw and make her eat every single one of them like cough medicine. And you’re really sensitive––” “––I’m not sensitive––” “––Because one time High Witch Way Chant told you to stop wearing mismatched shoes and walking around in the forest so much, and you came to my place and cried for three d––” “––Okay that’s enough,” I said, starting to regret my decision. I glanced over at the interviewer, who still looked like they’d been forcibly shoved into cardiac arrest. I decided to count that as a blessing. “Thank you for your help. You can go now.” They frown. “But you haven’t paid.” I roll my eyes. “Do I have to?” They wave a finger in my face. “You know the rules, Miss Colin. If you’d come over to my place, it would’ve been different, but because you summoned me––” “––Yeah, I couldn’t exactly run to a cottage in the middle of a forest in the middle of an interview––” They shook their head. “You know the rules, Miss Colin.”

Sighing, I search my pockets, finally finding what I’m looking for in the back pocket of my denim skirt. I pull it out, and then, one by one, I toss them seven AA batteries.

"Thanks," I say again. They nod to acknowledge my words, their large, coiling horns glowing white with heat as they do. The interviewer makes himself even smaller, struggling to stay upright on his wobbly legs, but it doesn’t make a difference. In another flash of light, they’re gone. All that’s left are a couple crushed tealights, bleeding broken sharpies, and a lot of wax stuck to the once-perfect navy carpet. The clipboard lays forgotten on the floor.

"I'm very intelligent, curious..." I tap the side of my chin, turning back around to face him. "And creative." 

The interviewer manages to choke out just enough words to tell me I'm fired. 

[geek-gem]

Now considering I did this with the first two Resident Evil films. But now I’m doing one with Doom. To be honest I stalled on this. 

I’m just gonna say some stuff. I love the Doom franchise, I love the video games. Including I love the character of Doomguy/Doom Slayer. But I’ve only seen bits of the movie and I have watched the first person scene on YouTube. Including I know how the movie goes with Filmcomicsexplained detailing the story of that 2005 movie.

Including I just don’t wanna watch the movie. Because it’s one of those video game movies that just doesn’t treat it’s source material right enough, and just doesn’t overall seem like a good film. Even if it had little things you can like. Along with the fact despite the upcoming movie Doom Annihilation having actual demons now. The idea Universal decided to put it as a direct to video movie instead of in theaters. Which is really disappointing but considering the 2005 film bombed, I could understand. But the fact of how the film looks and just.....it’s stupid. Despite some things I have read that Doomguy is in the film still.

To be honest I wouldn’t mind it two ways. One we might not get another Doom film again or just maybe we shouldn’t get one. Two a Doom film can work in some regards. Yet to be honest I feel like what I read of people wanting a, “Avengers” big movie seems very ridiculous and I wouldn’t mind a low budget or just....a simple movie can work.

But I shouldn’t make that the point. The point of this post is a what if situation of if that first Doom movie was while a loose adaption, a better movie that respects the source material more. Basically actual demons and other shit. Yet also I have thought about taking elements from the games and even well novels. Which might piss some fans off of the novels part. Don’t worry the demons aren’t aliens they are actually still demons and not mutants like in the film. 

Yet the idea was of to make a film that I guess honors the Doom franchise. While also mainly sticking with the original game. But also taking elements from other stuff such as Doom 3. Which is a game I do like as well. 

Basically a loose adaption that isn’t perfect but respects the Doom franchise itself and could be it’s own take on the franchise. Especially as someone who has thought of a Doom movie of how it could work. Such as taking elements from the 2016 game. But we are focusing on what was released in 2005. Honestly I’d should start making this now, sorry to ramble on.

Synopsis: It is 2022, humanity has been able to reach beyond Earth and go to other planets. Such as Mars with the corporation known as UAC has made it possible living there. Especially it’s moons Phobos and Deimos

But also behind the scenes, the UAC has been performing secret experiments with teleportation. Yet during these experiments they’ve unleashed something truly terrible. A portal to literal Hell. 

Now with the facility has been overrun with demons. Killing almost everyone and even many becoming possessed and acting like zombies. Especially it’s worse with other demons that are more ferocious such as the Imps, Pinky’s, and more. They are all over the UAC Mars Research Base, and Mars City.

A group of survivors try to survive this onslaught. When all hope seems lost, a marine(Dwayne Johnson) who was punitively posted at the facility is determined to kill all the demons and make sure they don’t get back to Earth. Including take down the now insane Dr. Malcom Betruger(Robert Englund) who has sided with the demons, intent on helping them get to Earth.

Characters.

Dwayne Johnson as Flynn Taggart The Doomguy: A 29 year old corporal who is sent to the Mars facility to assist as punishment for assaulting his senior officer who ordered him to shoot a group of civilians. 

He’s more of a, “Actions speak louder than words” kind of guy. The, “Strong Silent Type” kind of marine. Doesn’t really speak unless he feels like it or if it’s necessary. Capable of handling all different kinds of firearms. Including being quite fast during combat, hardly stressed at all, and strong as hell.

Despite what makes him seem to be a brooding loner who doesn’t seem to care for anyone. Especially before the outbreak everyone looked at him as if he was a scary brute. He’s actually a man with a big heart. Such as helping a person calm down during a situation when they need it, and cares more about other the safety of other people’s lives than his own. A honorable marine who hates bullies and seems chill when there is no combat.

But when the outbreak of demons happens, his team of other marines who he has made friends with are killed when investigating the base. Along with also his pet rabbit he brought to Mars is killed by demons.

With his friends and his own pet he considered family killed, and the demons intention to get to Earth, Flynn is determined to make sure they never reach their goals. No matter how many there are and how powerful they are.

Including during combat, he wears a helmet to protect his head just in case.

Notes: As a fun easter egg instead of him being 30 years old. I decided to have him be born on the day the original Doom was released. Which is December 10 1993. Meaning well yeah this film would take place in December. 

Along with the fact I know Dwayne in the 2005 movie was offered to play John Grimm but he chose to play the sarge. I wanted to make this fan casting. Along with the fact while I do agree with the idea Doomguy is a character in his own right that doesn’t need to speak and again a actions speak louder than words kind of guy. Including the fact he’s supposed to be the player character. 

Yet this movie version of the Flynn character who is more serious and more akin to what Doomguy seems to be like. Such as even the 2016 games. Basically more serious than what the novels described Flynn as. 

This version is basically I guess a representation of Doomguy as a person. If we didn’t go with the route of no talking and other things. He’s a Doomguy in his own right. But it’s a different take that I did to best respect the original character if I had to go with the route if he had to talk and other stuff.

Including let’s have a fun scene like the final shootout scene of The Rundown(A film Dwayne Johnson was in) but it’s Doomguy with the demons. Just showcasing Doomguy’s badassness in the scene. I’m talking about the Boom Shakalaka scene which I had watched before making this post.

Karl Urban as John “Reaper” Grimm: One of the few marines that has survived the onslaught of the demon outbreak on Mars. A Staff Sargent who seems rather angsty years after his parents who were UAC scientists died in a accident. But still cares for his Samantha Grimm and also a new friend of his named Emma Grace. 

While he didn’t take a liking towards Flynn at first assuming Flynn didn’t care for anyone but himself. He realizes Flynn and him share the same values of honor and other things. Especially in a way similar losses to his own.

Notes: I’m gonna say I like Karl Urban and from what I know people liked Karl as Reaper who is basically the Doomguy in the movie. But I have not watched the movie fully and wondered if I should. So I can’t make my own opinion. But I decided to keep his character and decided to keep his back story too for people who liked him.

Robert Englund as Dr. Malcom Bertruger: The Research director at Mars. After being teleported into Hell once and made a pact with the demons. Once a respected man who has now become evil, showcasing more of who he is. Especially after years being on Mars and helping the demons prepare for the outbreak. 

Including he is also responsible for brining back a once dead demon back to life into the now powerful Cyberdemon.

Notes: Originally I was gonna have Mads Mikkelsen(who’s also awesome) as Bertruger. Mainly cause of a reviewers comparison of the character to Hannibal Lector or whatever. But I thought Robert Englund was just a fun choice and just the idea of Freddy Krueger is the one who unleashes these demons or whatever.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Emma Grace: A rookie security officer who has been at the Mars facility for a while now. While despite being a officer, she’s has shown to be paranoid and the demon outbreak makes it all worse. But when she meets Flynn, she becomes more courageous after being inspired by Flynn’s determination and bravery. 

Rosamund Pike as Dr. Samantha Grimm: The twin sister of John Grimm and a doctor at the Mars research facility. She was one of the few people who began noticing something was up with Bertruger. 

Considering people liked Reaper and what I’ve seen on Tumblr some folks liked Samantha so she’s here too.

List of demons: Imps, possessed soldiers and overall zombies, Cacodemons, Pinky’s, Lost Souls, Barons Of Hell, and the Cyberdemon. With them while looking demonic, it’s respecting the original source material. But the film can make it’s own take on the demons. Yet the point being they have color and they just look demonic as hell. Also you can tell which one is which or whatever.

The Cyberdemon in a way is the big demon antagonist of the film. Including for this film I decided to keep it simple by mainly using the demons from the first game.

Also I just wanna spoil the ending and just talk about that. Basically the survivors are Flynn, Reaper, Emma, and Samantha. But Flynn because he wants them all to survive and he personally wants to take on Hell himself. He makes sure they all escape to Earth, making sure none of the demons get to Earth.

Flynn takes on the Cyberdemon and kills it. Including he finds Bertruger and maybe kills him or Bertruger dies on his own. Maybe becoming the Maledict. But also Flynn purposely decides to trap himself in Hell to take on the forces of Hell. Which speaks volumes about his character because he wants to make sure no demons even set foot on Earth.

Including being in Hell gives him more power, such as more speed, more strength, and he can’t get tired. The demons prepare to brace themselves for their new found terror of the warrior who has literally stood up to them during the onslaught of Mars. With Flynn embracing his situation and runs towards the armies of Hell. In vengeance for every innocent person who was killed by the demons by also Daisy.

It’s also a call back to the ending of Doom 64. Along with the fact considering what happened with the first Doom film. While a excuctive producer said if the first film was successful, there would be a sequel, but the film bombed. Yet for this if a Hell On Earth happened. This film has a solid ending but it’s open in a way. With also a smooth transition to a sequel if it got one.

Also for this can we get a different director. Considering looking at the directors list of directed films on Wikipedia. Maybe someone else like Peter Berg, or Paul W.S. Anderson(Yes I said his name but I feel the director for the Doom movie might be not the best choice). I did think of including Robert Rodriguez, but I don’t know if I would trust him with how I envisioned this movie.

Besides I should say this, if wait Paul and Milla Jovovich weren’t married yet so she wouldn’t be involved. XD Besides I heard that Event Horizon by Paul W.S. Anderson is basically what the Doom movie should of been or something.

But yeah that’s a lot of wrote. Well I hope anyone who reads this enjoys this. Really it’s just a simple what if idea for that Doom movie. Just tell me your thoughts on this. Whether it’s an idea or advice. Again I just wanted to get this out of my system and out of the way. I’m done with the tags, hope you folks in the Doomguy tag don’t mind this.

Edit(also a 2nd edit forgot to put the last period at the end of this too) I’d forgot to mention if this got a Rotten Tomatoes score, it be 34% probably that, basically the 2002 Resident Evil’s score. I’d think I’ll leave it as that unless people think the film sounds better than it is.

[vanaera]

Translucent Fireworks

Synopsis | Jungkook yearns for a New Year to come after the warmth he sought in Busan turned lukewarm. Sparks start to alight when spring comes and a girl with a coloring book and weird laundry schedule stepped in his laundromat.

Genre | Fluff, Drama, Slight Angst

Wordcount | 23k+

A/N | Surprise, surprise! @cinserity, you thought me taking up your freaking laundry!au is a joke? AHAHAHHA No. Sorry this is not a crack fic. I prefer to stay in my drama/angst expertise. Enjoy reading!

         “Comfort settles on what is familiar; familiarity is made by routines and traditions.  As much as anyone would like to have their days vary from each other, a constant is needed to hold one’s life in place.”

         These were Jeon Jungkook’s mother’s constant reminders to him whenever he would like to do something stupid in his high school days just to make life “exciting.” In the thawing winter of the last week of February Jungkook reminds himself of this when he fumbles for his keys, his eyes in a never ending fight against the sleep hanging on his eyelids.

         His movements are slow as he crouches down, a gloved hand inserts the key to the padlock, twists it, and then he places the key and padlock in the pocket of his green bomber jacket. He grasps the metal gate of the store front before he pushes it up, higher and higher until the gate is no longer obstructing the face of his laundromat.

         He steps away to look at his laundromat’s signboard: “Jeon’s Laundromat�� printed in the usual blue and green color scheme with a simple washing machine cartoon art that was a trend in the 1970s and still a trend in the 2000s for the vintage look. It’s simple and basic, a perfect match for a simple laundry business in the simple Myeongjang-dong, Dongnae District of Busan. The white paint has faded and grayed with age but the shop still resonates the same warm and homey aura back when he used to play toy cars inside as he keeps his grandmother company. Jungkook tries to curve his lips to form a smile on his tired face. He wishes the same warmth could soothe his exhaustion.

         “Wow, you opened early. It’s like five thirty in the morning.”

         Jungkook turns to see his high school friend, then-partner in crime, now a florist with his own flower shop across his laundromat giving him a cheeky smile. “Shut up, Jimin,” a hoarse chuckle resonates from his throat as Jungkook leans on the wall of his shop and decides he needs a distraction. He tries to appreciate the ridiculous color combination of his friend’s orange parka, green sweatpants, and a Mickey Mouse beanie sitting atop a taupe brown mop of hair. “You look ridiculous,” Jungkook snickers.

         “Hey, excuse my outfit,” Jimin chortles as he looks down at his pink-socked feet in his slippers, stifling a guffaw. “I ran out of food, so I rushed out, just put on anything on my sleepwear to look decent.”

         “You look anything but decent.”

         “Oh shut up! I’m gonna be in my usual glory when I open my shop later,” Jimin’s eyes crinkles. “I’ll be as beautiful as my flowers later, just you see,” he says as he steps away waving at Jungkook to bid him goodbye and a “See you later, coconut head.”

         “Yeah, see you later,” Jungkook waves as he enters his shop, flipping the “Sorry We’re Closed” sign to “Come In, We’re Open!” He stays by the glass door to look at the morning dew of early morning under the mellow yellow patch of the skyline about to overwhelm the parting navy colors of night. Jungkook could make out the pots of white carnations behind the doors of Jimin’s pastel blue flower shop. His eyes then travel to the apartment unit above the flower shop to watch Mrs. Taehee Jung gather the dried clothes she hung up the night before. Old Sangmin’s bakery is still thriving on the far right and Jungkook remembers his elementary days when his mother used to buy him muffins on the way home from school. He makes a note to buy some toasts later to munch on. Home-based convenience stores are opening one by one, and he could already see someone mopping the floors of the red-bricked establishment of Kim’s Italian Restaurant on his far left. His view is disrupted when Mr. Changmin Song, a resident below his apartment unit, waves at him as he walked on the street. Jungkook is compelled by moral norms to return the wave with a smile. Oh and there’s Mrs. Eunhui Lee, a patron of the laundromat, biking past him and Jungkook waves again.

         His mornings are always filled with warmth, a stark difference to his life five years ago in the concrete jungle of black and white buildings. He doesn’t miss the pressure of schedules that drove people here and there, the constant feeling of glass screens pressed against stressed flesh while shouting some things that are needed to be done – a life where everyone needs to go somewhere and do something in such a never-ending hurry. Jungkook’s glad he traded a life where people are controlled by time and cold apathy for a life of laidback days, serene nights, and warm sympathy of people. However, he’s been used to the warm life here for too many years that sometimes Jungkook thinks the warmth of being home had already turned lukewarm with unwanted consistency. His laidback days dragged too long, the silence of his serene nights started to deafen him. He feels he missed something – something he skipped over and never bothered to check when he packed his belongings and set his eyes for the rural world. He feels so unsatisfied when he already thinks he’s content with his life.

         The sight of the increasing people on the street signals Jungkook it’s time to focus on his own shop now so he rips his stare away from the door and lets it graze the interior of the laundromat. Fifteen cheap but functional silver and white washing machines lined against the cerulean blue walls, the center being occupied by two long wooden benches placed against each other for the customers to sit on.  A vending machine and change machine are placed against his right where a corner of the walls leads to a comfort room. A desk to his left serves as his station where he can keep an eye on his shop. Still the same old Jeon’s Laundromat his grandparents started in the 1970s.

         “Another day, here we go again,” he sighs, walking towards the washing machines to start another business day.

         Nothing much happens in his day for him to describe in detail. He eats three regular meals, sometimes in solitude, sometimes in the company of his florist friend. He sits in his station with people he was all-too familiar now coming in and out. At times, he stands up to walk around the shop and see if he could be of any help for his customers. Sometimes he engages in conversations with the older ladies who were friends with his late mother or father just to know about their day even though he knows he’ll get the same response: “Just okay, there’s nothing much I do in my days anyway”, “My son is still irresponsible”, “Hey, you know you can come over and have dinner with us someday.” His lassitude in the morning was sustained in the evening, and by the time he hits the covers of his bed, another day has slipped through his flimsy fingers.

         The days that followed were also like this. He opens the laundromat around five thirty to eight from Monday to Sunday. He collects the coins and cleans the shop before he closes around nine to ten.  He would refill the vending machine and change machine every Tuesday and Thursday. On Friday nights, he does accounting works that keeps his business alive. At the end of the week, the cycle will repeat. He wakes up tired and he sleeps the exhaustion away only to wake up again to find that getting up from the bed is always going to be the challenge of the century. He’s always greeted by faces he have seen since he was three and sometimes he thinks he’s a sick bastard for wishing for them to not show up in his day when all they meant was good company. He lives a comfortable life with the same routine, same activities, same setting, and same faces and he can’t deny he is uncomfortable with this. He thinks his days are too identical, only differentiated by the numbers of the months, days, and years. A never-ending cycle only bordered by the thin lines of time, dictating the consciousness of man of what is yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

         In his defense, Jungkook knows he tried. He tried to start and end his day a little early or a little late. He also tried playing with the days of the week like how he decided two weeks ago to have Mondays as his day offs. He didn’t realize he grew accustomed to the seven-days-a-week work in the constricting gray walls of Seoul that he unconsciously brought this work attitude in his hometown. He also tried to engage in new activities his younger self have been dying to do years ago. He tried so many ways, more than he can count with his hands, just to make his day a little bit different from the others, even just a flicker of variety in his uneventful life. He’s desperate, he knows, because no matter how many times he tried, they always end up in the same conclusion – it’s pointless.

         It’s hopeless. It’s not like his job requires activities that could make his day eventful. It’s not like something will happen if he woke up a little earlier or slept a little later. It’s not like he still enjoyed the activities his younger self liked to indulge. These thoughts boggled his mind throughout Mondays, only making him weary in his own day off so yesterday he decided he doesn’t need day offs and just open the laundromat everyday. He knows he always needed a distraction and his business could be enough as one. “Maybe I’m being too ungrateful,” he thinks. He has a job that could support his lifestyle; he has a home he can come back to – an apartment unit which stood through time since he was an infant who grew to dream of the city and then came home last year to detach himself from the nightmares of the urban life.  It makes him nauseous sometimes when he admits he indeed has a life others would dream of.  However the comfort of one’s life doesn’t ensure the comfort of one’s physical and mental well-being. He’s always troubled with this feeling of being so dissatisfied for no reason. This emptiness metastasizing in his chest fills up the hollows of his lungs. They block the valleys of his throat, drowning him with the ripples of nothingness. It disables him in some days with such unreasonable lethargy to get up and live another day. He never expected this void could swallow him whole. Many times he decided to just give up, it won’t go away no matter what he does. All adults feel like this anyway. It’s only normal.

         But when he lay on his bed, his eyes mapping the lines made by the cracked paint on his ceiling does he remember why he shouldn’t stop trying.

         This venom of dissatisfaction – it deemed him incapable to be himself when he lived in the gray city years ago. It haunted him on day’s end driving him sometimes to be so drunk of dread and regrets. That’s why a winter a year ago, he decided it’s time to come home. He’ll fix himself.

         He can’t give up now that he’s so near to getting rid of this.

//

           “Here’s your change Mrs. Song,” Jungkook stands by the door as he hands the silver coins to the woman in her late fifties. Mrs. Eunji Song, a friend of his mother and their past neighbour years ago, still has the same curly brown hair and fascination for pink clothes 

         “Ah, thanks Jungkook,” the lady smiles and gets her change before latching her hand on the door, getting ready to make her way home now. “By the way, do come to our house any day to have some dinner. You know you’re always welcome in our home,” the lady smiles again making Jungkook give her his own smile. She has always been so accommodating to their family even back then when he used to tease and make her daughter cry for fun. He wishes he could feel thankful for the offer like his younger self would be; not this disgusting guilt pressured by instilled culture.

         “Will do, Mrs. Song. Have a safe trip home,” He bids her goodbye as he opens the door for her. He gives her one last smile to compensate for the bitterness of his thoughts before she rounds up the corner of Sangmin’s bakery.

          Jungkook goes back to his station as he lets his vision linger on the other customers of his shop. He could see Mrs. Jinhee Park, a friend of Mrs. Lee, gathering her dried clothes. Mrs. Eunhui Lee, a mother of two and his apartment neighbor, feeds the coins to the coin slot of the washer before she presses a button to start her laundry. He could make out the familiar back of Park Jihyun, Jimin’s younger brother, sitting on the bench reading some manga he remembered Jimin raving about a week ago.  It is three thirty in the afternoon and he’s expecting more familiar faces to turn up when the six o’clock mark comes for people who preferred to do their laundry at night.

         Jungkook knows everyone just as how every resident in Myeongjang-dong knows everyone. After all it’s a small town. Newly moved residents in their area were welcomed warmly in the neighborhood with some rice cakes, and then they are introduced to everyone around the town. The tradition is preserved through the years as well as each family’s background, making it easy for everyone to pick apart every event in one’s life like a dissected frog experiment. Labels are permanently marked and gossips spread like wildfire. Jungkook knows Mrs. Song came from a poor family but founded a business which earned her family enough wealth to last their next generation. Mrs. Park’s husband died early and then she married her neighbor who was her first love during her youthful days. Eunhui had her first son at the age of sixteen with a jerk who left her. After two years she had her happy married life with her bestfriend.

         Jungkook is pretty sure everyone knows his mother died when he was in college because of tuberculosis and that his father just died a year ago which was actually the reason why he went back to his hometown with his older brother. It was only him who stayed and preferred to run the family business. Unlike him, Junghyun loved the city and has a nice position as a supervisor in a company.

          A peaceful and secure life is what Jungkook have always wanted. He doesn’t have dreams as ambitious as his brother’s nor does he feel unsatisfied with the laundromat business.  As he looks around the establishment founded by his grandparents, Jungkook is thankful they, along with his parents, provided him a secure future. The prosperity of the business hasn’t changed nor the patrons of Jeon’s Laundromat even after his parents died. It has always been the same; everything hasn’t changed one bit. Neither do I, Jungkook thinks. Comfort is felt on what is familiar but sometimes he wishes it was the other way around – familiarity to be felt on what is comfortable. He always felt too comfortable with his life now that he feels unfamiliar with himself.

         His mother had always reminded him that constants are needed to make life solid enough to be manageable, tangible, and most importantly, liveable. Jungkook thinks he already has too many constants in his life that his world seemed to stop moving and no matter what he did he’s still stuck in the same position. A stagnant echo in the gray static of a television left behind by the transmission signals.

         Jungkook returns to work when Jihyun came to his station to say goodbye with a message from his brother that his attendance is very much wanted by the florist later at nine o’clock in Uncle Bob’s Bar. Jungkook sends him off with a message for Jimin to stop being so demanding like a clingy girlfriend.

         The afternoon hours blend into the evening, and just like he expected, more customers went to the shop to do their laundry at six ‘o clock. At eight forty-five, Jungkook is pulling the metal gate downward, locking it with the huge brass padlock, and tucking the key in his pocket as he steps away to end another day of business.

         “You’re only closing now?” An all-too-familiar voice he sometimes finds irksome drives Jungkook to give Jimin a once-over.

         “Wow, you sound like my wife,” Jungkook walks towards his friend, who self-proclaims “beautiful as his flowers”, sporting a sky blue and white striped button down and navy jeans.

         “Eww, you shouldn’t dream to have me as one when I’m already taken. Dude, I already have Minyoung!” Jimin cackles, starting to make a sprint as Jungkook charges after him to knock off the stupid grin from his face. It was ages ago when Jungkook ran like this; he really needed one that night to take his mind off of these stupid thoughts.

         Uncle Bob’s Bar is actually owned by Kim Sangjin, Old Sangmin’s younger brother, and is located a few blocks away from the bakery. The two take their usual seat at the far right corner of the bar. Jimin raises two fingers to Mrs. Kim who has already memorized the friends’ orders that hasn’t changed since their college days.

         Jungkook lets his eyes travel around the rustic mahogany interior of the bar complimented by the orange glow of candles placed in lamps overhead that attempted to mimic some form of chandelier. The chestnut cabinet holding liquors older than him was nested near the wooden staircase leading to the second floor where college students seems to be having some game of beer pong which reminded him of his own reckless days, back when life rolled on and on before it advanced too fast when he packed his things for the modern streets of the city. Now here he is, back where he started, hoping his untuned life will be fixed by his stay in his hometown.

         “We used to do that back then,” Jungkook’s attention turns to Jimin, realizing he’s staring too long. He’s zoning out more frequently as the days pass by.

         “Ah, yeah, then we’ll have bets with Taehyung and Hoseok who can take more shots then end up losing count because we always end up wasted. Can’t believe they’ll only come visit us just to drink here.”

         “Seokjin called earlier,” Jimin starts, “said he and the guys gonna prepare some get together in Seoul. Last boyhood days, I say. He’s serious with Hana ever since college and he’s preparing to put a ring on it in July.”

         Jungkook’s eyes widen with the news. He thinks it is risky prolonging romances with an indefinite ending that’s why he’s glad Seokjin and Hana were able to see a wedded life together as their future. “Really? Wow, I’m glad for them. It’s been like six years and they managed to keep the romance alive.”

         “’Cause Seokjin looks damn good. Same reason why Minyoung will never get tired seeing this handsome face every day.”

         “I will punch you for real this time.”

         Jimin laughs as he leans on his chair, making himself at home. Well this bar was like their home but that was years ago. “Anyway, Seokjin and his happily ever after is not the reason why I wanted for us to have a drink here.  It’s about you.”

         “What about me?” Jungkook  gives him a pointed look.

         “It’s just that,” Jimin runs his hand through the strands of his hair as he finds the right words to say. “You just sound so…listless? Like you’re tired everyday for no reason.”

         “I…-“ Jungkook stops, the aggressive “I’m not” he wanted to say dying in the confines of his throat.

         “See? You can’t even deny it,” Jimin leans forward, his hands almost reaching out for him. “What’s wrong? Is it because of your life here? I told you you don’t have to force yourself to continue the business if you really felt that inferior to your brother-“

         “No. It’s not about him,” Jungkook cuts him off with unnecessary hostility. Sure, sometimes he felt inferior to Junghyun because his position is something to be envious of compared to his laundromat business. Jungkook always felt the need to tell himself every now and then that the city is for Junghyun and this province is for him. Being jealous of something he would never enjoy in the first place is pointless.

         Jungkook thinks his friend would not be able to fathom the complexity of his dilemma so he comes up with something he could reach. Jimin’s concern makes him feel sorry for his recalcitrance.

         “What’s your favorite holiday, hyung?”

         If Jimin was taken aback with the sudden diversion of subject, he did a good job masking it with a smile. “Thanksgiving.”

         “Why?”

         “Family gets together then we play games and eat lots of food. It has always been my favorite holiday ever since I was a kid.” Jimin‘s smile grows into a grin that makes Jungkook decide to lull himself in this subject longer. “God, this is a cheesy question from slambooks but since you brought it up, what’s yours?”

         “New Year,” Jungkook replies instantly. “I like the adrenaline rushing through me whenever I count down the minutes separating two years. I like seeing the sparks of fireworks and the fact that this is the only day it is legal for you to cause some ruckus and make loud noises. It always promises a new start, a change in your life.”  

         Jungkook remembers his college days when they’ll sit on Seokjin’s car and drive around town blaring rap music beyond reasonable levels of volume, his mom’s eyes crinkling as she greets him “happy new year” with his dad, he and Junghyun buying those sticks that sparkle and cackle like small fireworks when you set them alight. The feeling of exhilaration, the tingles on his spine, the feeling of setting your eyes on only one end – Jungkook misses that. A new start, a change in my life, Jungkook always knew this is what he needed. He’s been too comfortable, too familiar with everyone that he felt foreign to the thought of making life exciting. What he feared most has already happened - Life has gotten boring. It numbed him of his will to live like he wanted to and made his days and nights dreary and aimless. It’s sad when every time he thinks of this he could picture the college student version of him years ago who declared he’ll never be like the adults who stopped living for the sake of existing.

         Jimin must have realized what he meant with his reply and so as their drinks arrived, his friend’s words stuck to his mind until midnight as he slumped down on his bed, imagining the worn off lines of his ceilings to be constellations that disappeared after he graduated.

           “Don’t worry. You’ll get your New Year soon. I know you can.”

 //

         Winter finally melted away when March came, only leaving the cold breeze and chilly dewy mornings for spring as remnants of its wake. Jungkook was never one to give sentimental meanings to seasons unlike his sappy florist friend. Jimin always told him spring is the first season – it’s a perfect time to start anew especially after winter wiped the life away of the usual plants that grew in his shop. He remembers Jimin telling him one afternoon, “The cold has ended and the time to plant new flowers has come. It wasn’t used as a personification for hope for nothing, you know.”

         It was only now he thought that Jimin’s metaphors about spring must be true.

         It was nine in the morning of a usual Monday when spring entered his shop with a swift swing of the door and a blur of pink sweater and jet black hair 

         Jungkook knows everyone just as how every resident in Myeongjang-dong knows everyone – except this girl. His eyes follow her as she stops at the sixth washer, dumps her laundry, presses some buttons, inserts some coins, closes the cover, presses start, and finally sits on the bench. It was only then he noticed she carried some sort of paperback with lots of black and white pages – too big for a pocket book, its cover too minimalistic in design to be a magazine.

         After living in the town for so many years, he thinks maybe he adapted the prying attentiveness of old country people. It makes him feel better thinking this could be the reason why he suddenly want to decipher the paperback in the girl’s hand, not because he’s too attached to the sentiment of having some kind of change that could alter the repeated cycle of his life. Minutes are not enough for him to recognize the material when he realizes the paperback was no more in view and he’s now staring at her eyes. Jungkook immediately tears his gaze away before he could print the crease of her eyelids or the color of her irises in his memory. He chides himself for being too curious even though he knows no matter what he tries to convince himself with, this inquisitiveness will only creep behind his back and implant itself in his mind.

         Most of his customers are patrons, people he have known for so many years as their predecessors have also been patrons since his grandparents started this business. He couldn’t recall anyone’s relative who has a short stature and shoulder-length hair that matches this girl. He also hasn’t heard of any newly moved residents or any tourists traveling around their area. It’s impossible for her to live in a neighboring town and just come to Myeongjang-dong just for the sake of her laundry. He thinks it’s only fair for him to question her origin and motive.

         He lets his eyes wander again to the girl’s way, noticing now that Minhee Jung, the photographer down the block, is also staring at the new girl. Mrs. Lee is also here, sitting on the other side of the bench looking agog to know her identity. He wasn’t the only one curious of her then.

         Minutes passed with his eyes running through the pages of the 4th volume of Naruto he borrowed from Jimin with the mechanical whirring of the machines that turned to be melodic in time. His reading was interrupted with him bidding Minhee goodbye and helping Mrs. Lee with her laundry, including occasional gazes on the girl who kept flipping through the paperback he was still trying to figure out.  The air in the laundromat wasn’t so still like yesterday. Jungkook felt strange when relief engulfed him with the steady hymn of pages turning.

         By ten’ o clock, the girl finished her laundry and left with a soft “goodbye” Jungkook almost fails to hear. The minute she steps outside, the man shoots up from his seat and strides to the glass door in big steps to watch her disappearing figure make a turn on the corner of Kim’s Italian Restaurant. It dawns on him it’s also the same route he takes on his way home but he thinks he’s being paranoid. He couldn’t give a substantial answer why his attention was so hooked to the girl and her paperback so he didn’t bother to confuse himself further than he already is. Jungkook just blames it on the unusual black and white paperback so he can sleep that night.

         It wasn’t until Wednesday when Jungkook’s interest was piqued again. The girl entered his shop at nine ’o clock, used the same washer, sat on the same spot of the bench and pulled out that damn paperback. Just like what he did on Monday, he read the same manga, though now he was on the 12th volume because he’s determined to finish Naruto to prove Jimin he can catch up to this story about ninjas. However, his usual reading pace is slowed down just so he can look at the girl in patterned successions; his eyes drift to her way when he lands at pages whose numbers are divisible by four. After three, four glances, he thinks she looks attractive in her blue pullover and gray jeans as her attention is captured by the paperback which is driving him mad.

         Jungkook prides himself for his rationality. Even in his group of friends, his common sense and wit is regarded functional whenever they end up in sticky situations brought by his group’s occasional sprouts of foolishness. However today, Jungkook can’t really keep up this pride as said rationality is thrown somewhere when he decided to stand up and walk around the shop to finally discern just what this infuriating paperback is.

         The pace of his walk is sluggish, almost similar to a fugitive’s gait as he pretends to inspect the washers on the opposite side of the one she’s using. He knows he doesn’t look suspicious as his customers know he does walk around the shop to assist them, “except today,” Jungkook thinks. His walk gradually slows to a stop when he neared the spot behind her, her back coming into full view as now he can finally look at the page. It’s black and white. Black ink swirled around and met other lines to form a mandela, “a flower,” Jungkook prefers. Patterns circled around with detailed geometric shapes and curvy triangular projections that made petals look so abstract than it should be. The other page is also the same – a black and white mandela he is sure would look better with some actual colors than the present monochrome scheme. “It’s a coloring book,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, comprehension now settling as to why this material is an outsider in his shop. He’s used to seeing his customers flipping through printed materials filled with pages to pass the time – mostly books and magazines. It isn’t everyday one would see someone bring a coloring book with them to a laundromat and just stare at it for a whole hour.

         The girl picked up on Jungkook’s uncalled prolonged inactivity as she suddenly turned to her back, her eyes catching his guilty stance of peering, of “being prying,” Jungkook thinks. He immediately composes himself, his mouth preparing a buyable excuse his mind has concocted. “Ah- I’m sorry if I bothered you. I was just checking the washers.”

         The girl only gives him a tight smile and a polite nod before she quickly returns her attention to her coloring book.

         Jungkook reminds himself not to act like a weirdo anymore to save himself from nerve-wracking explanations for his questionable actions he himself is finding hard to understand. He leaves her spot, walks around the washers, never going to her side to avoid another wave of awkwardness. He whips out his manga the second he returned to his station and convinces himself to just stick to reading because he needs to finish this volume by tomorrow. He thinks he’s effort is impressive for trying hard to anchor his attention back to the comic book though he couldn’t proudly say he did enough to avoid the girl’s direction for just thirty minutes. He guiltily admits he can’t keep himself from sneaking a few glances in between reading.  He thinks his reason to do so could justify the act this time. It’s just too weird, he thinks. Why buy a coloring book if you’re not going to color it anyway? Why stare at it for an hour? What’s so interesting with a black and white drawing anyway?

         The girl bids him goodbye by the same ten o’clock mark and Jungkook finds himself rooted again on the glass door as he watches her silhouette blend with the province landscape and remnants of the morning glow of the sun. Today he blames it on the girl’s unusual pastime that bewildered him up to the day of her return.

         By Friday, Jungkook’s certain he’s acting like a damn stalker and he doesn’t know how to explain for himself anymore. The girl arrived at the same time, same jeans and sweater – a dandelion yellow now – ensemble, and did the same routine in front of the sixth washer. However, Jungkook could make out she brought something with her along with her coloring book. He raises himself from his seat a little to just peek – and oh it’s a watercolor set, the cheap set he usually sees in the neglected corners of bookstores. He falls back down on his seat when the girl suddenly stood up and walked towards his station. For a moment Jungkook panicked, he sat up so straight he almost knocked off the air of himself as his hands frantically pat his askew shirt, desperately making himself look presentable. “Shit, maybe she figured out I’m being a creep,” he thinks as he counts the seconds she’ll stand in front of him and demand for him to stop acting so suspicious – but that doesn’t happen. He could see her stand clueless by the door, her head snap left then right, probably thinking what to do, before she decides to wind up to the right end of the shop where the comfort room is situated. Jungkook counts up to ten seconds when her figure reappears, her right hand now occupied by a small see through cup filled halfway with water. Jungkook diverts his attention to the fifth page of the 12th volume of Naruto when the girl nears his station before he returns his gaze on her to see her now opening the watercolor set.

         Jungkook thinks it’s unusual to be so amused watching a girl color a page using watercolor. He doesn’t know what he finds so relaxing with her peaceful posture - her coloring book laid open on her lap, the watercolor set placed on her left side as her hand gracefully flicks the brush around. He can’t make excuses for himself anymore why he’s itching to know what she’s coloring, what kind of color she is using now, why watercolor and not colored pencils. Some kind of tranquility blankets the interior of his shop as he flips through his manga again, his excitement dying down to an unperturbed state he never felt until recently. The mechanical song of the machines lulled him to delve in the world of ninjas, recurrent glimpses on the girl brings him back to his world in Myeongjang-dong. By eleven o’clock she bids him goodbye and then Jungkook finds himself staying by the glass door again. Jungkook can’t think of anything to blame now as he ponders over her extended stay just to finish her coloring session.

         On Sunday, Jungkook finally decided to approach her. She came by nine ’o clock again wearing a lime green sweater and faded jeans bringing the same watercolor set and coloring book. Jungkook saw her making her way to the sixth washer and already expected her to do her laundry routine, sit on the bench, and start coloring.  He didn’t expect he will be met by a missed note in his machines’ automatic symphony caused by anxious tapping of fingers against metal and the desperate squeak of the money return button under unforgiving pressure. The girl’s figure was hunched on the floor, her fingers flicking the coin slot and rapping the surface of the washer in interlaced sequence and this time Jungkook knows this is the reason why he should actually go to her and not because of him being nosy as per previous encounters.

         “Umm, excuse me, let me help you,” Jungkook gets on his knees beside her, already insulting himself for sounding so dumb.

         “My coins got stuck inside – I”

         “No it’s alright. It happens sometimes. Don’t worry.”

         Jungkook fishes his pen from his pocket, twists its cap to turn on the small handy flashlight he uses to make out the metal works in the dark crevices for him to determine the problem. He tuts his tongue, realizing the coin jam can’t be solved with simple knocking and tapping of the machine.

         “What’s the problem?”

         “There’s a coin tipped to the side inside. Don’t worry, it’s easy to fix.” He grabs the toolbox placed at the foot of his chair, right where he places his slippers for comfort, and he pulls it up to rest on his desk. He’s glad he decided to keep a toolbox for incidents like this even when Jimin discouraged him why he needed a toolbox since he’s not a washing machine mechanic. He opens the box and gets his utility knife before closing it again.

         Jungkook may not know how to fix washing machines in general but he learned how to fix simple problems like this back when he aided his mother ran the shop. He slid the knife in the slot, pushed the tilted coin with it, and twists it a little.  When he felt it slide smoothly, he smiles as it starts the tuned music he has been waiting five minutes ago.

         “It’s fixed now,” he gets up from his knees and closes the cover before standing up only to meet the girl’s eyes in such close proximity, her breath so close to his chest he could feel the hairs at the back of his neck standing up . He’s frozen in his spot and he could only stare at her, her image surely making an impression in his mind. Her small warm brown orbs are adorned by creaseless eyelids. She has small cheekbones and he could see blemishes on her cheeks but her make-up did a good job in hiding them he thought twice if they were really there in the first place. Her face is shaped like a strawberry, her thin lips painted cerise that can rival any shade of red. Before Jungkook could stop himself from staring, the girl stepped away and cleared her throat softly muttering an apology, bringing the man back to his senses.

         “Umm, yeah, it’s okay now, just press the start button,” He murmurs then immediately turns away, his eyes set for his station before he was delayed by a soft voice he now has a face he could match with.

         “Thank you.”

         “It’s alright,” Jungkook says without turning back as he sits on his chair, his lips unknowingly curving into a smile.

         She leaves by twelve in the afternoon with a goodbye after finishing another page. Jungkook wonders if he’ll have his following weeks filled with her presence like this.

         That night he was enveloped in the hospitality of Jimin’s small unit nursing a cold glass of water to amend the sheen of sweat glistening on his neck. His friend’s house is wedged between two other complexes around the street that corners Old Sangmin’s bakery. He felt the need to take the ten minute fast walk right after closing the laundromat just so he can get some answers he is very embarrassed to ask for. After dawdling on the polaroids that hung on his friend’s wall which portrayed Jimin’s family, their group, and his girlfriend, he thinks it’s time to disregard this empty pride and just start speaking.

         “Have you heard of any newly-moved residents in town?” He licks his chapped lips before he opts to be clear with his intentions. “A girl around 5’2, long hair, always wears sweaters, jeans, and Converse sneakers?”

         The playful glint in Jimin’s eyes did not surface when recognition first kicks in. “Oh her! She’s the new resident in the apartment complex across yours.”

         “What?”

         “You didn’t know?” The gleam in Jimin’s eyes is of pure unbelief. “She just moved in last week. Saw her carrying a luggage on your street last Sunday afternoon when I was doing bouquet deliveries.”

         “How come I didn’t know about this?”

         “You open your Laundromat at the ass crack of dawn and go straight to bed past ten. Of course you wouldn’t notice. Actually,” Jimin’s eyes sweep over his sofa before bringing it back to his friend, his stance more rigid. “I heard there’s something with her. No one in the area knows anything about her. No one could even say where she has come from.” He leans closer as if someone will hear him, “She seems secretive too. Suspicious, no? 

         Jungkook snickered, shaking his head. “Are you sure you’re not just relaying gossips you heard from the housewives here?”   

         “Maybe,” Jimin rests his case as he leans back, dismissing delirious perceptions influenced by old town idle talk. He then startles Jungkook when he decides to turn the subject to him. “Why did you ask?”

         Jungkook hoped to evade this question when he made his visit but then he has no choice now as his friend’s teasing smirk signifies he wouldn’t let him drop the subject anytime soon. “Okay fine, I find her weird. She came to the Laundromat on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and this morning at the same time – 9 a.m. And she always bring this coloring book –”

         “What the hell.”

         “I know, right? It’s weird. She brought this coloring book and stared at it for one hour and then on Friday she decided she wanted to color-“

         “No,” Jimin interrupts him, the smirk on his lips erased by the staggered look in his eyes. “What’s really weird is she does laundry four times a week. No person living alone would need to wash their clothes that frequently.”

         Jungkook wished that night he didn’t hear Jimin’s remark. He only realized that this girl’s laundry schedule is anomalous enough to disregard her strange affinity with her coloring book. “Four times a week, Jesus Christ,” the man drapes his arm over his eyes but it’s useless when he can see mandelas playing on the cracked lines of his ceiling. His friend’s observation planted itself in his head like lawn weeds. It proliferated in his thoughts and formed a growing sea of green that always taunted him to just dive in. It's annoying; disquietude shouldn't be so charming.

         The weight of his thoughts only materialized when the following weeks came. The once plain days of Jeon’s Laundromat is now perplexed by this girl four days in a week – Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. She always comes by at nine ‘o clock in the morning, does her laundry, and stares at her coloring book or colors some pages, “always with watercolor,” Jungkook notes.  The sharp swing of the door signals her arrival along with the gust of cool dewy breeze from the outside and after that, Jungkook’s attention is now on her until she leaves. By the second Friday, Jungkook confirms Jimin’s right when he said there’s something with this girl. This woman washes the same clothes she already washed in her previous visit. His eyes became familiar with the sight of the pink and blue striped button down, lavender skirt, and royal blue dress being dumped inside the washing machine. Sometimes it’s the yellow sundress, white pleated skirt, and mint green blouse he thinks she doesn’t wear in the first place.  He sees them pristine clean even before she dumps it in and still pristine clean after she washed them. Jungkook doesn't linger on probable reasons behind her activity when he's already drifting in his space, wondering why he’s bothered by the thought of their colors fading anytime soon.

         Her presence is tangible in some days and an aftertaste in every night. Jungkook never saw her in the days that were not in the schedule of her laundry nor is he fortunate to have just a glimpse of her room light turned on when he comes home.  His ears are already used to the quiet street, soft click of the light switch, and the silent hiss when he draws apart the drapes on his window; the dark rooms across his apartment devoid of any life. The hollowness at nights was filled with dreams of mandelas and watercolors and it is until the day after tomorrow will these dormant curiosity and sense of adventure come full force; a reminder that there is indeed life, just not visible for him at nights.

         She’s queer, odd, unfamiliar, and definitely offbeat in the musical of his very ordinary, normal, and uneventful life but her tune is not outlandish to be disturbing. He can’t will himself to admit to Jimin he likes watching her color pages with her cheap watercolor set, wondering to himself how she likes to color, or what her favorite color is because she always come in his shop wearing sweaters in hues that define the vibrant spring. The air around the laundromat is colored with new pigments as the girl brushes around her coloring book while Jungkook reads mangas. The music of the washers accompanies exchanges of shy glances and the timid curve of lips.

             This is uncharted area, an unexplored field, and his bare feet is still trying to get used with the rough and itchy weeds but he doesn't deny the buzz in his bloodstream wills him to run across this sea of green and just forget they were in fact parasitic foliage on his lawn. He goes against the cautions of unfamiliarity set on his door since he was a child and decides maybe - just maybe a discrepancy can actually give him comfort.

         He starts to anticipate the days of her visit and the undisclosed wishes of her mandelas.

 //        

           Geometry suddenly became a fascination on Tuesday.

         Jungkook postponed business until eight thirty when he realized his refrigerator is practically devoid of anything edible. He used his usual opening time and first two hours in Farmer’s Market and by half past seven he is already waiting by the bus stop, his hands occupied with plastic bags that will satisfy his appetite for the following week.

         The road was silent, except for faint chatters of the town people and the brief appearances of trucks and local cars. Farmer’s Market is a subdued repose in weekdays and a loud frenzy in weekends, Jungkook remembers as he sits down on the bench. He settles his purchase by his side, muscles effortlessly releasing the tension he wishes his mind could do a better job at. God, he’s already tired and he hasn’t started work yet.

         Rustling of the leaves filled in the noiseless street and the patterned zipping of vehicles cannot make it better, exaggerating the seconds to grow into centuries in his mind. Jungkook knows he needs something to occupy his mind. His eyes look down at his wrist adorned with the watch that was handed down from his father. He always felt comfortable with the warm brown leather straps, still-distinct black of roman numerals arranged on a circular plate of the yellowing white face of the clock. The hands were at seven and nine, two lines connected at the center. And since they look like lines, they also look like they could extend whenever at whatever point - his plane geometry teacher said so. Can it turn into something when the area near seven is connected to one and nine is connected to three? Can expansion of mere periods create a difference from its original form?

         Jungkook thinks yes, it can when he recognizes the familiar supplementary lines he used to draw on his notebooks. Extremes can be in unison in the form of acute and obtuse angles. The angles are uneven but they still measure a 180. They can be a clean 90 - 90 but Jungkook prefers them unbalanced because he wanted to feel normalcy in inconsistency. Jungkook then sees the lines on the aged face of his clock transform to lines on the graying white and blue of Jeon's Laundromat. His laundromat their point of intersection with him and the sweater girl as the lines that will coexist in the brief two or three hours if she decides to finish one page. The difference between their angles so noticeable like the drastic split between 120 and 60 because her fleeting hours of stay cannot equal the stagnant years he lived on this establishment. Jungkook thinks his ceiling will now bear the misalignment of these askew lines.

         Jungkook detaches himself from his trance when he felt the bench creak. The wooden parallel lines of the bench on his right were unceremoniously interrupted by another person. Blue jeans, cherry red fuzzy sweater, and straight jet black hair makes Jungkook remind himself that emergence of supplementary lines is scheduled on the day after tomorrow, ascertained tomorrow if it’s Sunday or Tuesday like today.  Tuesday is not tomorrow. Why is she here? Jungkook sides a glance, ever perplexed with her presence, and he sees her hunched over, hands on knees, puffing out tired breaths, and still unaware of him with plastic bags of the same color as his by her side.  With the sunlight gracing her profile, she looks more breath taking than he remembers. He was already taken aback before with her imperfectly beautiful freckles and her thin red lips, but what he never noticed before was the raven black crowning her head, darker than her midnight tresses; an indistinct inconsistency of her natural being.

         Appearance of green and blue lines crosses his vision and disrupts his thoughts. The sudden whish of opening doors makes him look down on his watch while standing up to grab his bags. It was only 7:56, such little time never felt so long.  As he sets his eyes toward the bus, he now notices the strange sweater girl was no longer by his side and was now struggling on the metal steps of the vehicle.

         Should he help her? Helping her won’t make him seem creepy right? Damn it, Jungkook hurries toward her side. He gently taps her shoulder and mutters, “I’ll help you with this.”

         She must be quite startled with his sudden interference with her widened eyes and parted lips, but the man can’t seem to be aware of this when he’s mesmerized with her eyes, registering their color is not just brown, it’s hazel. He sure learns more about her this Tuesday which cannot be granted in the confines of his laundromat. He immediately looks down and grabs her plastic bags as the thought of social convention enters his mind which deems it quite inappropriate to stare for too long.

         “For one passenger or two?” The rough voice of the driver in his mid forties weirdly sounds outlandish to his ears when he stood up to place his card on the sensor for the vehicle fare.  

           “Uh…”

           “Only one,” the firm tone makes the male whip his head to sweater girl’s way, now nearing him as she got up the steps and flashed her own card before beeping it.

           “You don’t have to, I got my own,” she pulls her lips a little into a smile.

           Jungkook feels spring coloring his cheeks with embarrassment.  This is so uncool. He tears his gaze from her and settles it on the nearest vacant seats behind the elderly woman and a married couple seated in the first two rows. He lets her make her way first before following, his eyes trained on his shoes until he plops himself down on his seat. “Too much for one day, shucks.”

           “Thank you for helping me.”

           “Huh?” He looks at her face and sees her expectant expression before realization hits him.” Ah- oh here are your bags,” he gives them to her, disregarding how her fingers felt a little calloused when they overlapped his. This shouldn’t even attract him and yet he finds himself magnetized towards her eyes again.

           “Pull yourself together, man!,”  He averts his eyes toward the opposite direction, hoping for the ride to end faster ‘cause shit he’s acting like a retard now and he can’t even redeem himself by engaging in small talk-

           “You’re Jeon Jungkook, right?”

           “Wait- huh?” Jungkook whips his face toward her direction with such alarm in his eyes as if he was caught stealing. He thinks she hid her bewilderment of his suspicious behavior behind curious eyes and a friendly smile.

           “Jungkook-sshi right? Owner of Jeon’s Laundromat?”

           “Why – ah yes,” Jungkook almost forgot that here in Myeongjang-dong, everyone does know everyone. He opens his mouth to speak but found words dying down his throat. He can’t think of how to continue the conversation when his awkward reply simply ended her attempt of small talk. He observed her eyes glancing his way then back to the window, her fingers twiddling with each other as the quietness settle on both of them.

           “Maybe she’s also uncomfortable with such quietness,” Jungkook thinks. Small talk probably eases the pressure from the silence between two strangers who surely have acknowledged each other’s presences before. Since she went beyond her way and started a small talk with him, the man thinks it’s only right that this time, he start one. So when the bus halts on the next stop to let the married couple get down, Jungkook is staring at her way and opens his mouth.

           “You do market shopping on Tuesdays too?”

           It’s her turn to be startled as she looks his way, her mouth gaping before stretching into a pleasant line. It’s fortunate she smiles a lot; she has a beautiful smile. “Y–yes. It’s less chaotic during weekdays.”

           Jungkook felt his own lips tugging into a crescent. He finds courage to talk more and bask longer in her presence. Relief seeping in his bones when he notices the shimmer of curiosity in her hazel orbs. It’s been such a long time he noticed those childlike glimmer in the eyes of the people around him apart from his friends.  

           “I heard from people you just moved in here.”

           “Ah, yes around the first week of March. My friend recommended a better work position around here. I’m an accountant by the way,” she supplies with a chuckle. “How about you? Did you start your business on your own?”

           “No, my grandfather started the family business and it was passed down to my mother then to me. It also happened that my patrons are successors of my grandfather’s patrons.

           “It’s wonderful then that you continued the family legacy.”

           “It is,” Jungkook replies with a timid smile.

           The next minutes were spent in silence, less awkward now, and when the bus halts on the fourth stop, Jungkook stands up to bid goodbye when the girl beat him to it.

           “This is your stop too?”

           Oh, right she lives across him. Jungkook rubs his neck. “Uhh… yes.”

         They stepped out of the bus, the girl’s plastic bags secured in Jungkook’s grip (he insists to do so), as they walk in peace past the Italian restaurant. During their silent trip, she dropped in casual remarks how the weather was nice today, or her neighbors were so kind to give her homemade kimchi when she moved. Jungkook told her that people here are really warm and Busan style kimchi is one of a kind to which she agrees. As they go up the stairs of Ahjummah Bongcha’s apartment complex, Jungkook can’t help but glance at his own unit just across the street. How many nights has he spent wondering how this girl lives across him when he can’t even sense an inkling of life and now he’s here, feet landing on the front of her unit in the third floor as he gives her her plastic bags. Lines are lingering at the intersection today before they can become supplementary lines now with a smaller difference of fifty-eight degrees.

         “By the way where do you live?” She gives him an inquisitive look as she sets her plastic bags down first before she can put them inside.

         Jungkook suddenly feels like a thief caught in his act. “Don’t get creeped out, okay? I live across you –”

         “And you didn’t make any remarks when we’re climbing up the steps?”       

         “I only noticed now, I swear!” Jungkook grins. “I was absentminded when we’re going up the steps –”

         She suddenly laughs, slapping his shoulders playfully and Jungkook really does swear a tingle of electricity didn’t just sprout from the contact. “I’m just kidding, don’t get too defensive.” She opens her screen door and makes ready to bid goodbye. “Thank you with the plastic bags, again, Jungkook-sshi.”

         Jungkook suddenly realizes he missed something important every rational person engaging in small talk should have known in the first place. He holds onto her arm before she can close the door and she looked so shocked with the sudden action. His next words make those hazel eyes soften and her lips extend into a charming smile Jungkook knows he’ll always remember before he goes to sleep.

         “What’s your name by the way?”

         “Kim, Sarang.”

         The strange sweater girl doesn’t seem so strange now.

//

         The following days have been a blur of sparks and new colors but Jungkook manages to remember them all. The peculiar Kim Sarang, the color of her sweaters, the stretches of her smiles, her longer visits, and the pigments she likes on her mandelas.  

         Monday permitted him to go to her usual seat and ask about her day as per social convention for two acquaintances. He gestured to her ever familiar coloring book filled with colored and black and white mandelas and he spent that day learning that watercolors and coloring books were a big part of her childhood. She has always been fascinated with transluscence and light play, the way the first splash of tints won’t look the same way when the minutes dried them up.

         “You have to be very good in predicting how they’ll look after you painted them, so it’s really important to know the amount of water you’ll put in the paint,” she demonstrates with a flick of her wrists and lets him see the mirage of lilacs filling the petals of another Mandela, the same color of her sweater today.

         “Then, you must be really good at predictions,” Jungkook chuckles.

           “Nah, the outcomes are just easier for me to see because I’m already used to them.” She then looks at him, “You said your medium of preference is colored pencils so you’re already used how the outcomes of the textures will look.”

           “Uh, I think not. I just wing it and it happens to look good.” Jungkook’s crinkled eyes matches the grin now painted on her lips as she laughs.

           She ends her laundry duty with Jungkook helping her and a smile with a wave “See you next time” as she steps out his laundromat. The man finds himself planted on the doorstep, watching her leave by twelve o’clock, wishing next time would come sooner.

           Soon enough, next time, comes two days later in the form of Wednesday and a game of twenty questions.

           “What’s your favorite color?”

           “Blue. Yours?”

           Jungkook grins, “Red.”

           It’s Sarang’s turn to start another question.“Favorite holiday?”

           “New Year.” Jungkook could already feel warmth spreading on his chest with just the thought of it.

           “Oh yours just comes next to mine. Mine’s Christmas.”

           “Really? Then you must like all the Christmas lights and the trees”

           “God no, I’m just in for the gifts.”

           Jungkook’s blank face makes her guffaw. “Okay, I like the lights and trees. It’s sounds so corny when I say it out loud.”

           “Then mine’s cornier. I like new beginnings.”

           “Wow, you’re sentimental.”

           “Yeah, kinda explains why I have that stupid car freshener by my side. Jimin gave it to me when I told him I’m going back in Busan and he thought I have my own car. His face is undescribable when he was so disappointed he saw me coming down from the bus.”

           “But he’s happy you kept it.”

           “Yeah he was. He’s one sappy fellow-“

           He just didn’t expect a third person to join in. “I’m so gonna tell hyung about that.”

           “Oh no! Jihyun, Wait!”

           Wednesday was quite short when Sarang left by eleven thirty with a grocery errand she has to do and Jungkook says it’s okay, his hand resting on the collar of Jihyun’s shirt.  It’s okay, he’ll see her again soon enough.

           Friday was not so okay when florist Park Jimin suddenly barged in the laundromat while Jungkook is in mid-sentence about his dog Cloud, Sarang also surprised with the new presence.

           “So I heard I was sappy.” Jungkook could tell Jimin was quite offended.

           “Uh… you are.”

           “You brat –“

           “You know you have a business to attend to right?” Jungkook points to his flower shop.

           “Shop’s closed because I wanna visit my childhood friend-“

           “We see each other everyday.”

           “- who happens to just remembers me as a ‘sappy fellow’”

           Jimin turns his attention to Jungkook’s company, his eyes lighting up when he recognizes the girl Jungkook was talking about. He offers her a hand, “Sorry for my interruption. I’m Park Jimin, you must be sweater girl-“

           Jungkook suddenly chokes on his own spit.

           “Umm, Kim Sarang actually.” The girl shakes his offered hand with a polite smile.

           “Sorry,” Jungkook apologizes while already pushing Jimin out of the shop, “he makes stupid remarks sometimes but he has good intentions.”

           “Hands off me, brat.”

           “No, get out. You have your own business to attend to.”

           “Hey, you’re only 25, I’m already 27. I was born here first. I ate more rice than you.”

           “You-“

           Their banter was suddenly interrupted with a set of giggles that came from sweater girl. “You must have a wonderful childhood,” she remarks before she suddenly remembers Jimin might have been set aback “Oh, sorry for laughing, I just-“

           “It’s okay,” Jimin reassures, making his way to her side already getting comfortable on the bench, “It’s what makes me charming, got my girlfriend swooning with the Chim Charms.”

           Jungkook felt the need to interject. “Yuck.”

           “Shut up.”

           Sarang’s curiosity wills Jungkook to talk about his childhood. He tells her about how close he was with his grandparents and parents, the treats they spoil him with, and that everyone in town was friends with their family.  Jimin also shares in the story-telling when they got to the part how nine year old Jungkook accidentally spilled laundry water on Park Jimin when he was cleaning up. Fortunately, little Jimin agreed to forgive him if he would play with him because other boys in town ignore him since he’s a wimp and with those puppy eyes he won over nine year old troublemaker Jungkook who he later found out was two years younger than him.

           “I’m still bitter about it.”

           “No one cares hyung.”

           Jungkook continues on with his tale. He can’t stop when the girl was looking at him with eyes that will him to talk and talk. It feels strange to tell someone about his whole childhood and adolescence; how he stuck with his friends he met in high school through Jimin, how lightweight he feels telling her all about his good old days, because everyone has, there will always be good days even though life has ever been hopeless and miserable.

           Sarang gave him stories of her own happy days in return. He learns that even though she lives far from her parents, they always wait for her daily Skype calls every evening without fail. She also has a childhood friend named Aecha whom she met in daycare when no one wants to play with her because she’s a klutz and kept messing the arranged tables of other girls for tea parties.

            “Like Jimin,” Jungkook side comments, earning a playful elbow nudge from the florist to which she laughs.

           Sarang tells him she’s got a lot of similarities with Aecha except being good in math to which Jungkook says it happened to be his best subject.

           “Really?”

           “Yeah,” Jimin answers before Jungkook can. “He went to school competitions for math quiz bees and he manages to always, always get the gold medal.”

           “Pure luck.”

           “I think not,” Jimin insists. “His mother has this display thing in their living room where all his medals are. All gold, I’m telling you. Oh, plus certificates from art events in college.”

           “Really? Wow, you must have passed through high school and college with flying colors.” Sarang turns to Jungkook and he’s taken aback when he sees the flicker of interest in her eyes. He doesn’t know what to feel about it.

           “Can’t give Math all the credits though,” Jungkook rubs his neck. “Drafting classes gave me the rainbow wings which I used to fly with flying colors.”

           “Rainbow wings? That’s new,” She sniggered. “You said you draw sometimes but I never thought you were this good.”

           Jungkook lets out an awkward laugh as Jimin starts to sell him out again. “He’s really good. He used to draw cool backgrounds for school events which provided him extra allowance he used to treat his family, sometimes me.” Jungkook feels Jimin getting sappy now, “He’s really gifted, he even helped me paint my flower shop which garnered much compliments from my customers.”

           Sarang’s smile got wider now. “If you’re good in numbers and art, I’m guessing you took architecture as your major right?”

           “Uhh yes,” Jungkook rubs his nape again, already uncomfortable. Jimin suddenly senses this and tries to change the subject but-

           “You must have tried making blueprints for a company before, no?”

           The sudden question got Jungkook rigid and stiff. He suddenly diverted his eyes away from her, her words left hanging caused a sudden sweep of cold air in the midst of spring, seemingly freezing their conversation as well in a hideous iceberg, suddenly growing sharp spikes that taunt him. Seasons should be chronological in manner, he can’t remember autumn when he’s trusting spring to cure him. He can’t remember now-

           “Your watch, is that your father’s?”

           Jungkook returns his gaze on her, her hazel eyes so gentle and her thin lips smiling not as wide as before but it’s still warm enough to soften the edges of the tension. Jungkook appreciates her effort of noticing his discomfort and exhales slowly with “Yes, how did you know?”

           “It’s got brown leather straps and the face is already yellowed. It’s quite a trend for men back then.”

           Jungkook dismisses any unpleasant thoughts when he pulls a smile for himself. Good old days. “I always liked these straps than stainless silver ones. I’m more comfortable with this.”

           Jimin smiles and tries to liven up the mood again, “Yeah, when he got it from his dad he won’t shut up about it.”

           Jungkook stares at him to which Jimin nudges away.

           Sarang leaves by twelve thirty, laundry in hand, and an apology to what happened earlier. Jungkook can’t bring himself to watch her leave like he always does.

           “You know, she doesn’t know, right? Don’t be too upset.” Jimin tears his attention from whatever that will seem to enclose around him again.

           “I know hyung, it’s just-“

           “I understand. Just… don’t be closed off. I think there’s still something about her,” Jimin scrunches his face as he gestures, “with the four times a week laundry duty or maybe just because she’s a clean freak. But seeing her now,” he looks at the laundromat owner, “she’s kinda alright; just… curious and interested. Like you are about her.”

           It wasn’t until he got home by the raven night sky of ten o’clock does he understand Jimin’s point when he finds a plastic food container containing a still hot stew before his doorstep. He picks up the sticky note attached on top of it, a neat handwritten “I’m sorry about earlier - KS” in black ink. No need to feel too hurt. It’s been years, he has to move on. It is already a luxury to have the pure interest of others for the purpose of understanding in this world when nitpicking other’s flaws mattered more than anything else for the ‘necessity’ of leverage on others.

           Jungkook straightens up, a smile and wave ready to be sent to the apartment across his only to be greeted by a dark unit with no hint of any life.

           Sunday came around too soon for Jungkook’s liking but the thought was quickly diminished when his eyes caught a movement of rose pink while he’s reading the 13th volume of Naruto.  He snaps his neck toward the wall clock and right, it’s already nine o’clock. Of course, spring is here.

           He stood up from his desk and found Sarang already seated on her usual spot, same coloring book and watercolor set by her side. He walks by her side and before she acknowledges him, he already starts speaking.

           “Uhh Sarang, thank you for the kimchi stew two days ago, I just,” he looks down when he feels his throat getting blocked up. “I hope I didn’t scare you that day.”

           “Oh no, you didn’t,” she shifted in her seat. “I just felt bad because I thought maybe I offended you in some way-“

           “No offense taken, the topic was just… uncomfortable for me.” Sarang gestured for him to take a seat beside her and he does so. “I wasn’t ready to talk about it anytime soon.”

           “I know, it’s okay,” she smiles. “People don’t like talking about what unsettles them.”

           “Thank you for understanding.”

           Sarang’s smile just gets wider. Jungkook isn’t sure if it’s only for him with the way it looks somehow strange but he knows he feels a tad better now.

           “You’re a great cook by the way. The stew was amazing. It has this some distinct taste, definitely not from Busan. It must be from your hometown then.”

           Jungkook notices her eyes flicker in a way he can’t comprehend but he doesn’t mind it too much when she tells him “I- I don’t think it reflects anything from my hometown. I used to live in Gwangsan-gu, Gwangju, but I never managed to capture the Gwangju taste in my cooking.” She paused for a while before she lets out a chuckle, “But I’ll take that as a compliment.”

           Jungkook spends the rest of the minutes by her side in silence, watching her color the pages in uniform motion, union in her strokes evident, and how her favor of blue tints always happen to appear in huge splotches or in tiny linear details.

           She leaves early by ten o’clock because of accounting works she needs to be done for the client she’s working with. Jungkook sends her off with a smile, watching her retreating figure. Few words were shared today but Jungkook could see more opportunities in the following days, affirmed so when she turns back for the first time before she rounds the Italian restaurant to give him one last smile.

           The following weeks proved it to be true as each day bled to another one. The day seemed like a millisecond, too miniscule for Jungkook when months ago they felt tediously long like centuries. Spring will come by nine o’clock and another conversation and shared laughter will fill the timeframe of Sarang’s visit before they’ll part by twelve with full smiles and shy waves of their hands in their wake. His shop became livelier with animated chatters and giggles, stories of how he found a stray pup with his group of friends by the corner of their college dormitory and decided he’ll keep him as Cloud, how Sarang laughed when she told him she sucked at math and how many times she failed her college entrance exams but she still wants to be accountant so no one’s gonna stop her at that. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” she snorted as Jungkook cackled. It sounds too hilarious that it surprised the man himself but he doesn’t care. It felt so long ago since he felt like this.

           “D’you have anything you’re good at?”

           Sarang turns to him with an incredulous look before lifting her book to him “Isn’t it obvious already?”

           “No,” Jungkook sniggers as he clears his statement, “I mean aside from watercolor painting.”

           “Well, what are you good at besides math and drawing.” She raises her eyebrows and moves them comically, something Jungkook considers weird at the same time awfully cute.

           “You won’t believe it but I sing and dance.”

           “Okay, you’re just bluffing.”

           “No, it’s true!”

           “As if. No one can be a whole package, you dork.”

           “Just wait ‘til you see this,” the man fumbles for his phone, eyes scanning through numerous files before his thumb presses on the center. It starts to play with seven men on the stage in flashy outfits getting ready with their formation as a thunderous beat starts to boom out from his phone. “Too loud, too loud for the shop,” and Jungkook frantically inserts the jack of his earphones, fits his ear with one bud, and as he turns to his side, he never imagined he’ll get a close up of Sarang’s warm hazel eyes. “She really has pretty eyes- okay I’m violating her personal space.”

            Jungkook clears his throat, “Umm, if you don’t mind I-” His fingers were ready to fit the bud in the girl’s ears before his action was intercepted with the girl’s much smaller fingers that sends a jolt to the man’s body.

           “It’s okay,” she smiles, fitting the bud in her own ear. “I wanna watch your performance you’re so adamant to show me.”

           “Not that adamant - okay fine.” Jungkook presses play again yet he cannot bring his eyes to focus on his first ever show performance for their college event. It was a good show actually, but Jungkook reasons he looks like shit there anyway and the view in front of him is much nicer to look at. Sarang with her eyes trained on the performance, lips painted in cherry gloss parted slightly, her figure leaning closer to him to get a much better view from his small outdated handphone. Jungkook basks in the lack of proximity between them as he watches her locks fall forward on the side of her face and God, he wants to tuck that hair behind her ear but he has to control himself so he puts his other hand on his side of his ear bud to look he’s also focused on the show. He’s never been focused on someone as much as now.

           Five minutes have already passed as Sarang leans back in her place, surprising Jungkook as he realizes he’s stared at her profile for so long.

           “You- you like it?” Jungkook trains his eyes somewhere to keep the blush creeping on his cheeks

           “Yeah, you got some killer moves there, and vocals too, Mr. Justin Seagull”

           “Oh my god, that was the dumbest stage name ever that I thought back then was really cool.” If spring has colored his cheeks earlier, well now his ears are already in vibrance too. “Anyway, what about me being a ‘whole package’ you said earlier,” Jungkook raises his eyebrow to attempt a smug look and he himself is surprised where the hell he got this cringey confidence just to mask up his blushing self.

           “Oh stop it,” She chuckles, playfully hitting his shoulder. She looks down at her forgotten book as she smacks her lips together before she looks his way again. “To answer your question earlier, there’s something I’m also good at, aside from painting and my work.”

           “Really? What is it?”

           “I dance.”

           “Can you show-“

           “Sorry, I don’t have any embarrassing footage to show in exchange.”

           “Hey, unfair!”

            Jungkook never thought he could grin this much without hurting his jaw. Smiling, laughing – it felt so surprisingly effortless. It felt like he travelled back in time, back to his good old days with this foreign excitement he used to have now embedded on his chest that continues to manifest, overwhelming and unyielding even when he tried to contain them. He decides he wouldn’t stop; he can’t. He’ll continue to run over this uncharted zone, farther past the familiarity of what he has grown up to.

           Each day, another page is colored in Sarang’s coloring book.

           “What if you only use the colors I’m going to say for the next page.”

           “I’m gonna accept that challenge.”

           Jungkook grins.“Okay… use purple, pink, and brown.”

           Sarang immediately flips the book close. “Forget it, you have a terrible color choice.”

           “Just try it!”

           “Fine.”

           After a few minutes, Jungkook was already gaping at her. “Wow, it looked amazing.”

           “Of course, I have to amend the hideous color scheme.”

           “It was just for a challenge – okay touche.”

           Everyday, another area is marked with memories on the unknown field of unfamiliarity.

           “You know, you always walk in my shop in sweaters of various colors.”

           “Well, I like colorful stuff.”

           “Ohhhhkaayy.” Jungkook immediately leaves her place.

           “Where are you going- Wait what is this?”

           “Strawberry popsicle,” he hands it to her. “It’s pastel in color plus you’ve been eyeing that in my vending machine since yesterday.”

           “Oh okay, thank-“

           “That would be 500 won.”

           “Nevermind.”

           “I’m kidding! Take it, my treat.”

           Everyday, another new conversation for Jungkook to run in his head as he slept with thoughts of supplementary lines, their angles not so askew anymore with 100 and 80 degrees angles, a 20 degree difference that makes him smile . Constellations on his ceiling started to burn brighter now, awakening dead stars long forgotten in the dust.

 //

           Weeks and weeks followed with Sarang’s longer visits and the ever present color of spring on Jungkook’s cheek that reflected their blooming friendship. A few times, the man finds himself convincing no one but him that he’s already satisfied with their childlike tales and childhood stories, sometimes mature discussions, and then… and then the prolonged stares, lingering touches, shy smiles. It’s foolish, pointless even to deny he wanted that 20 degree difference in their supplementary lines to disappear. In fact, no more supplementary lines; he wanted to feel her presence other than in his laundromat, the only intersection he has with her. How about a line? That could go on and on forever; he can meet her everyday with no hindrances at all. Right, he can opt for a line-

           “So… how’s your girlfriend, son?”

           “Huh?”

           “Your girlfriend? The one with the coloring book.” Mr. Changmin Song tries again. Jungkook was still taken aback with the sudden interference in his thoughts so he lets his eyes focus again to what’s in front of him. Oh right, he was helping Mr. Song in packing his laundry. His mind is wandering towards her way too much again.

           He clears his throat as he packs the last bundle in clear plastic. “Uhh, she’s… not my girlfriend.”

           “You two always have a nice time here everyday, also not to mention I saw the food container on your doorstep one night when I went up to get my pliers back from Eunhui.” Mr. Song insists.

           Right, everyone in Myeongjang-dong knows everyone, what did he expect? “We’re just friends, Mr. Song.” With three packed bundles in tow, Jungkook uses his hip to push his glass door open, stepping out of the shop to proceed to secure the bundles on Mr. Song’s bike.

           Mr. Song follows him outside and positions himself next to his bike as he gives the laundromat owner a grateful smile. “Thanks son for helping me with this.”

           Jungkook sends him a polite bow in return with “Anytime, sir.”

           As the elder man positions himself on the bike, ready to pedal back home, he calls Jungkook’s attention one last time. “You know son, if you wanna get the girl, ask her on a proper date. That’s how I got my wife stuck by my side ever since. Okay I’m gonna go now, good luck with your romantic endeavors.”

           “Thank..you, sir.”

           Right. It’s foolish to convince himself he’s already satisfied with his friendship with Sarang, when from the start he already wanted more. The interest and attraction was already there, evident in his eyes even. Jimin tells him so one Wednesday night, spaghetti half finished as Jungkook cannot keep himself still in the back room of the florist’s shop.

           “You look like a hungry puppy whenever you talk about her. Are you that thirsty?”

           Jungkook spits out the water he’s drinking.

           “What the hell?! That’s just unnecessary!” Jungkook accepts the napkins the florist handed him. ”How did Minyoung tolerate you with that mouth of yours?“

           “It’s the Chim Charms – okay I’m gonna be serious.” Jimin pulls a straight face when Jungkook attempts to splash the water to his face.

           “Hyung, I just…,” Jungkook messes up his hair in frustration, maybe in embarrassment also. “I wanna get to know about her other than in my shop. I want to meet her everyday, not just every other day.” He lets a shy smile slip on at the thought.

           “…sap.”

           “What?”

           “Nothing! First off, go text her. Of course you already have her number, right - What do you mean no?”

           Jungkook shakes his head, “I don’t know how to… you know I don’t know much in the dating scene. I’m not like you, or Tae-hyung, or Seokjin hyung who’s effortless in picking up girls.”

           “Then the next time you see her, during your conversation just slip in casually, ‘hey can I get your number, if it’s okay?’” Jimin sees Jungkook’s eyes widen and he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Just be casual, okay? Keep it cool and manly like what you always fail to seem to be - ouch that hurt!”

           A kick on the shin to his friend, and a “Thank you for the meal and happy birthday, more years for you to tolerate my insufferable hyung,” to Minyoung who sends him off with a friendly smile, Jungkook leaves Park’s Flower Shop. It’s already thirty minutes before midnight. He’ll just sleep it off then tomorrow he can see her again. His lips unconsciously pull into a smile.

           He whistles the tune of some love song he heard in the radio as he makes the final steps towards the main door of his apartment complex when his eyes catches an unfamiliar movement right across him. Are those arms waving at him?

           “Jungkook!”

           Great. Now his mind is conjuring an imitation of her voice. He must be going crazy. He shakes his head and continues to walk only to be stilled again.

           “Jungkook, hey!”

           It sounds too real. He lets his eyes sweep before him, stopping at the movement of a figure and arms as he strain to focus them. Okay, this can’t be real.

           “Sarang?”

           “Yes! Sorry to bother you so late, but can I ask you a favor?”

//

             Jungkook never thought he’ll get to see her this soon. “Okay, just hold this for me then I’m done,” Jungkook gives her the pliers he was using before returning to the bunch of red and black wires he was fiddling. A few twists here and there and a wrap of electrical tape, Jungkook bends down to plug in the now fixed cord of Sarang’s washing machine.

           “I’m so sorry for disturbing you so late, I know you must be on your way home but you’re the only one I know around here-“

           “Hey, what’s the rush?” Jeonguk stands up to meet Sarang’s eyes, stilling her from her rambling. “It’s okay,” He assures to which the girl relaxes her rigid shoulders. It really is okay, Jungkook thinks. More than okay, actually, when he gets to see Sarang in a messy bun, glasses perched on the bridge of her button nose, slim frame dressed in a long dress he guessed must belong to her mother.

           “Umm, okay,” Sarang’s eyes wanders to the side, probably thinking what to say to fill in the silence. They must be doing it a lot, filling in the silence. The awkwardness drives the man to let his eyes travel around the unit that has always been plunged in darkness, until now. The furniture was decent, minimalist even with her small sofa pushed to the wall and an old television situated across the room. A coffee table in the center holds a couple of fashion and art magazines his mother used to display in the laundromat. Aside from that, nothing much stood out – no picture frames, any memorabilia that may give him a glimpse of her childhood.

           “You must have been in the middle of unpacking.” Jungkook turns back to her.

           “Huh?”  

           “Your unit,” he gestures around the room, “it misses picture frames of your family. I remember you told me your mom likes taking photos.”

           “Ah yeah,” Sarang bites her lip, “I left some of the boxes back in Gwangju. The moving company will bring them to me by next week.”

           Before Jungkook could enjoy more of her company, Sarang’s voice brings him back to his rationality. “Thank you for your help again. I know it must be getting late; I owe you a lot.”

           “Ah, no need to worry about that,” Jungkook walks toward her screen door, Sarang close behind him.

           “I still feel embarrassed though; If you need any favor in return, feel free to ask.”

           “Okay, noted” Jungkook grins. A favor from sweater girl? Wow, he actually hit the jackpot tonight. But what favor can he ask her of? There’s practically nothing he needs assistance of -  wait.

           Before Sarang could send him off with a smile, Jungkook’s foot wedges itself between her screen door and wall, wind knocked out from himself with the sudden action.

           “Actually, I already have a favor in mind,” Jungkook smiles. “Can I have your number?”

           Jungkook never thought a day could pass without his heart humming around his ribcage. His days were still as is: open the laundromat at 5:30, collect the coin and clean the shop around nine or ten before he closes; refill vending machine and change machine every Tuesday and Thursday; do accounting works on Friday nights. Sarang still drops by at nine every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday, her stays getting longer and longer that Jungkook started sharing lunch times with her. The only difference might be the constant exchange of messages that fills his mornings and nights with grins and bubbling joy.  He still isn’t able to have her presence in Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays; nor does the light in her unit rarely signal her residence in her home, but he got messages all week around to fill him with his hunger he never felt before.

           Sometimes they’ll talk about miniature things that have never been interesting until now.

           “So I read one day that washing machines have some meaning to them.”

           “Yeah?” Sarang stops to look at his profile. “You’re starting to be real poetic about your business now.”

           Jungkook chuckles, “I just came across it. Since they turn the clothes around them, it somehow mimics a cycle. You put dirty things in them and they come out clean now, kind of like how you change oneself for the better.”

           Other times they’ll send messages about things that they have taken note of each other.

Sarang: Hey, I just passed Mr. Sangmin’s bakery. I bought some muffins. (3:30 PM)

Jungkook: Oh really? I’m gonna buy some later ahahahha (3:31 PM)

Sarang: No need. I already bought enough for us two. Expect me there by 4. (3:31 PM)

           Jungkook whips his head to the calendar by his desk. It’s Tuesday, that’s strange-

Sarang: You know, you always text with “ahahahha” like an awkward teenage boy (3:32 PM)

Jungkook: Maybe I am (3:32 PM)

Jungkook: ahhahaahah (3:32 PM)

           The man’s attention diverts to the sound of the chimes by the shop’s door.

           “Welcome –“

           “Hi,” Sarang smiles. “I got some muffins for an awkward “teenage boy”.

           But there are also times when they’ll send each other signals that cross whichever boundaries set by social convention. Maybe it’s just him, Jungkook doesn’t really know.

Jungkook: I always have fun when I talk with you (10:30 PM)

Sarang: Me too. I have never experienced talking with someone for hours until now :D (10:31 PM)

           Jungkook brings down his phone to look across Sarang’s balcony. Another Wednesday night granted him a soft glow in the room, a smile spreading on his face as warmth envelops his chest.

           “Yeah, me too.” 

           Never has Jungkook been more curious of Sarang’s strange lifestyle when the following Friday night came. It was around nine thirty when the laundromat owner closed the shop and stayed inside to do accounting works when  a set of three knocks on his glass door broke his focus on his tax returns.

           Jungkook stands up from his desk to walk towards the door, familiarity sinking in along with surprise when he finally makes out the face of his late night visitor.

           “Sarang?” the man immediately opens the door to let her in. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

           The girl removes her denim jacket, her slim form accentuated in a fit white tee and tight jeans. “Are you not expecting any visitors?” Her amused voice sounds foreign to his ears, already bringing his attention back to her from his dazed state.

           “Ah, actually no. My patrons know I close around this time on Fridays. I was just… surprised. Yeah…” and this might be quite an understatement. He never expected to see her at all tonight with her clad in something so flattering to her proportions, too foreign from the comfort of her sweater and jeans ensemble. Maybe he wasn’t just used to it, anyways at least he got to see her again.

           “So what brings you here?” Jungkook asks as he sets down a cup of green tea on his desk, smiling at the girl who’s seated across him.

           She adjusts her seat on the extra stool the man brought out before saying her thank you. “I- I was just done with my work and I just saw the light is still on in the shop so…”

           “It’s alright, I was just curious,” Jungkook dismisses, sitting himself back in his chair surrounded with papers and cash invoices. “Though I’m gonna be busy for a while, gotta do some paperwork.”

           “That would be alright,” Sarang smiles.

           The following minutes passed with the scratches of ink on paper and soft chuckles. Sarang decided to help him with his purchases “so you can finish faster, plus this is also what I work with so it’s fun.” Jungkook can’t help but sneak few glances at the girl, with her eyes focused on the numbers, fingers swiftly pressing on the calculator, and her lips painted so red he just noticed now. The surprise of her sudden visit still doesn’t wear off when he can’t still believe the girl who spends her nights away from her home is just here right across him now. He could just reach out and grab her hand and ask her if she feels the same way about him as he does about her because he’s confused if the attraction he feels, sees even, is just conjured by his inexperienced mind. He turns back to the computation he’s doing. It’s too soon for that anyway.

           “Is it your dream to manage your family business?”

           “Huh?” He felt his mind halt as all thought still around him.

           Sarang clears her throat as she puts her pen down, account of his purchases already done. “Has it always been your dream to do the laundromat business?”

           He clears his throat. He never told anyone about this nor deemed this topic worth talking about because of the uncertainties that plagued however he can’t fathom the unusual feeling his chest - so light as if he was floating. “Actually, no... It was my childhood dream though.” Jungkook leans back, papers already stacked neatly. “When I was in kindergarten, my teacher asked us to draw our dream and I drew the whole shop with our patrons and me sat on the desk. While growing up, I learned I really liked math and drawing so I became an architect. It didn’t occur to me it as my dream though.”

           “Then what is it?”

           Jungkook halfheartedly smiles, “I’m still not quite sure yet, but I do know I’m content with what I have now.” He feels he’ll turn the atmosphere somber now if he speaks of what happened years ago so he just pulls his smile a little wider for her, however he also can’t decipher what the girl’s tight smile means.

           Jungkook doesn’t know what goes on in Sarang’s mind and he wishes to know what causes the unfamiliar look in her eyes, just like now, someday. He hopes to know why she’s never at home on some nights, what she does on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.  When he thinks of it, sometimes he feels he knows her, has the little things about her mapped out on his palm for him to always remember, and there are some times, like now, when the people you seem to know can be strangers too in mere minutes. He thinks he may seem like a stranger earlier if he divulged the misery and pain he felt when he went to the city that made him realize dreams are not just labels.  They can become strangers they can be familiar with when they’re both ready. Comfort with oneself can wait, he’ll settle with the comfort offered by familiarity so tonight he’ll be someone who’s familiar to her image of him – a 25 year old inexperienced in dating, awkward “teenage” boy who likes to talk about good old days.

           “How about you? Have you dreamt of being an accountant since you were a child?

           “ No… I don’t know.”

           “Hmm?”

           “I really don’t know what my dream is. I just know that I like doing this kind of paperworks. But it’s not enough for me to be called as a dream.”

           “You’ll find it eventually. Everyone has one.”

           Jungkook looks down to his stack of papers, stooping down to put them in the cabinet of his desk. “How about painting?”

           “W-what?”

           “Painting,” Jungkook says louder as he stands up to meet her hazy gaze. “You really like coloring mandelas and they look really wonderful, too.”

           Sarang rubs her shoulder, “It’s just – just a hobby I had when I was in middle school – I don’t think-“

           “You should try though. Start coloring your own life; you’ve already colored enough of the black and whites of others.”

           Somehow, the following minutes, hours until they closed the shop together around eleven thirty, Jungkook manages to see her warm hazel eyes again.

           Their weighty conversation about dreams and warmth became the catalyst for Sarang’s visits on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday nights right before Jungkook closes the shop, as if her laundry visits in the morning were not yet enough. Jungkook could already feel the supplementary lines closing on in 95 and 85 degrees angles, an almost equal split and he’s never felt such excitement run its course down his bones.

           On some Sunday night, they talked about Sarang’s high school memories.

           “My mom skyped me yesterday by the way, she said she sent me my high school graduation pictures I left when I was packing. I just received them this morning,” she hands him a 2x2 photo.

           “Wow, you look the same back then. You’re really pretty-“ Jungkook snaps his head to her, his hand on his mop stilling as he balks.

           “Really?” Her grin spreads faster than the heat rising above the man’s cheeks.

           “I mean- yes you’re pretty –“

           “Thanks for the compliment! I’m gonna give you that photo as a thank you.”

           It’s actually too much for a gratitude but anyway, he’ll take what he can get and Jungkook turns and tucks it in his wallet when she was busy wiping the glass door.

           One Monday night was quite romantic when they both decided to cook carbonara for their late dinner in the kitchen at the back of the laundromat. She was actually surprised when he mentioned there’s a small kitchen in the shop so he explained his Grandpa extended the back of the shop to accommodate his Grandma’s fondness for cooking while managing the shop.

           “You sure like pasta, hmm?” Sarang gives him a teasing smile as she stirs the cream.

           “Yeah, but I, for the life of me, cannot cook my own favorite dish,” Jungkook snickered, heart swelling as he watched the girl prance around, pink apron his mother used to wear now neatly tight around her waist.

           “It’s okay. I’m gonna cook for you instead.”

           True to her word, Jungkook finds a familiar plastic food container on his doorstep the following week with a pink post it note saying “This is tuna carbonara, a specialty from my mom. Hope you like it ;)“

           And last Wednesday night was when he realized his New Year actually happened. It was the best night he ever had since years.

           “No Sarang, I’m going to ruin what you drew.”

           “You know that’s not true; just paint and go; you had rainbow wings, remember?” Sarang smiles as he grabs his hand, and gives him a paintbrush.

           It’s been years since Jungkook held anything that is related with art tools, anything that created lines and forms used to make him sick. However, none of that was present now, his chest unusually feeling light at the thought. He looks up towards the girl as she lays out two A4 papers with her hand drawn mandelas, her eyes glimmering with a shine he never saw before they started to talk, even before she was just silently coloring away in her own little world.

           He sits himself beside her and grabs the first pigment that catches his eyes – lime green – youth, new beginnings, then cherry red – candy pops, sweet pomegranates he loved to eat in summer, and yellow, bright yellow – sunflower fields, summer, joy. After years of wrapping his heart with regret, disappointment, and hatred, he thought he would never feel happy again. But now – now he was actually happy, unadulterated joy that is so childlike he feels his chest is going to combust. He remembers all that he loves with the colors he chose - his family, friends, the life here in his neighborhood, the warmth he was showered with ever since he was born. It was time to let go, he realizes, now that he started to love again the warmth in this life he chose, now that his new year have already happened.

           “I know my dream now,” Jungkook mutters as he stops his strokes and turns to face Sarang. “My dream is to live in a nice neighborhood filled with warmth. Sounds cheesy I know.” He giggles.

           “No continue on,” Sarang prods him.

           “Back then I thought dreams are supposed to be what you want to be, what job you want to have. We’re kinda systemized to think that our jobs define us anyway. After a series of success, disappointments later, I finally realized that dreams can be where you want to be, what your soul wants to experience, not just some title to add to your identity. When I went back to my hometown, here, it really felt a dream. You can’t be always happy with your dream though since happiness heavily relies on your state of mind but if it’s your dream, you have to feel content with it. Happiness can be found in contentedness anyway.”

           Silence follows when Jungkook stops. He searches her eyes as he gulps his nervousness. He never bared this side of him to anyone yet.

           “That’s wonderful, Jungkook” Sarang smiles so wide, cherry red lips matching the color he loved on the geometric design she drew, red, bright red- adoration. Time seems to have stilled in the chilly evening as Jungkook keeps his eyes on her, the tingling feeling blooming in his chest, bursting into fireworks, filling his heart with colors and sparks he never seen before, colors he deemed will never come to his life. And he feels the same sparks swimming in her eyes as he leans forward and places his lips against hers, uncertainties fading into nonexistence as he tastes the sweetness of youth and the thrill of new years on her soft lips.

//

           “Wait, what, you kissed her?”      

           “Uh… yeah,” Jungkook shies away from the florist’s scrutinizing gaze. He trains his eyes instead on the Polaroid of their friends, sipping the tea his friend prepared when he suddenly visited without premise on a Tuesday night.

           “Wow,” Jimin leans back in his chair, carding his hands through his hair, “I never thought you were this impulsive.”

           “I don’t even know if that’s an actual kiss!”

           “What do you mean?”

           “I mean, I just placed my lips on hers and that’s that; I didn’t even move ‘cause I’m really nervous but when I pulled away she was smiling at me and I think it’s okay but I-,” Jungkook stops as he slumps forward, “I really don’t know how she feels. I’m sure I like her, really like her, and I really like the kiss and then the next day she just smiled at me and acted like we usually do.”

           “So, you just… go back to just being friends?”

           “Somehow.”

           “You know you’re treading in dangerous waters, now, right? Friends don’t treat each other like that; you’ve been prancing around each other and acting as lovers already. You have to clarify what you feel already or you’re just going to blur the lines further and cause more confusion on both of you.”

           “But I don’t wanna scare her, hyung.” Jungkook bites his lips. He keeps thinking what he has now with Sarang is enough but he knows he is fooling himself because he knows he wants more, especially when he felt his feet running on soft grass and experiencing new horizons when he’s with her. “Also, I don’t even know what she does at nights and on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays - she’s rarely at home at all.”

           “You still haven’t figured that out?” Jimin’s tone bounds on a wary one and it makes Jungkook more anxious.

           “No… she pretty divulged everything from her childhood, school life, and even her work and when I look at her, it seems I know everything about her but at the same time nothing about her.”

           “Okay, I know you usually dismiss me when I tell you ‘speculations’ of housewives around here and I think Sarang’s a pretty good girl. But I won’t deny I actually saw her earlier with a man-“

           “But maybe it’s just because of her work. You know she does accounting for business people!” Jungkook finds it ridiculous. No one knows Sarang like he does. He’s the only one she’s close with around her, she said so herself.      

           “Alright, alright,” Jimin pats the younger’s forearms, placating the situation. “I’m just telling you what I saw, no need to be too defensive.”

           Jungkook knows Jimin was just looking out for him; he was just somewhat disappointed how the florist can think of Sarang like that when he barely knew her. How can he think of her like that?

           Jimin decides to go back to the initial purpose of their conversation. “Okay Kook, if you want to know more about her, go ahead. Ask her directly. Tell your feelings directly. You’ll never go anywhere unless you actually face the path you want to take.” Jimin takes in a breath before continuing. “It may… It may actually help if you tell her what happened to the engineering company you worked in. You already encouraged her to open up good memories with you when you started talking about yours. Maybe… maybe if you talked about more personal, things you want to hide, maybe she can tell you about hers too. Maybe she’s just like you, keeping personal stuff away and safe from anyone’s scrutiny. And if you started talking about yours, you’ll send her the message you’re serious with her and want to get to know her sincerely with hopes she’ll return the same feelings as yours.”

           “Thanks, Jimin. Actually,” Jungkook looks at him, “I now got over that problem of mine. I actually felt I already set myself free from the past two years I drowned myself in endless self-pity and hatred. I actually feel happy now.” Jungkook smiles, the curve almost reaching his eyes, and he’s never been more proud of himself until now.

           “Re-really? That’s great!” Jimin exclaims, arms grabbing the laundromat owner to hug him. Jungkook almost tears up, he can’t believe he’ll be able to actually say that himself now. “I’m happy, I’m actually happy again, mom, dad, Junghyun hyung.’” He can’t believe this was his new year at all – he thought it was meeting Sarang but he never thought accepting himself will be his new year, his new beginning. His days with Sarang made him relive his days; his memories that made him remember his dream, his happiness. And he felt Jimin now understand fully what Sarang meant to him when he pull away, eyes glassy reflecting his as he says, “I’m really glad, Jungkook, I’m proud of you. I hope things will go well with Sarang.”

           Jungkook dwells longer in Jimin’s home, relishing in the positivity that filled the florist’s unit, washing away any tension that occurred earlier. Around eleven thirty, when Jungkook was putting on his shoes by the florist’s doorstep, he decides he’ll tell Sarang what he really feels for her tomorrow. He cannot wait anymore; he’s ready to finally tell her more of himself tomorrow, the things he was proud of and the things he was not. He trusts her enough to give her his heart, as a whole now.

           “That’s good. I’ll cheer for you, Kook. Oh by the way,” Jimin stops him in the hallway, “go ask her also to be your date in Seokjin’s wedding. July 21st is already around the corner.”

           “I will do that hyung – wait what month is it now?”

           “It’s almost halfway of June, kiddo. June 13 to be exact.” Two months have already passed and summer has already started. Jungkook lets out an amused laugh; it always felt it was spring whenever he’s with Sarang.

           Jungkook smiles as he waves goodbye, “I almost forgot Seokjin hyung’s wedding is in July.”

           When tomorrow came, Jungkook postponed business so he can drop by around eight thirty at Saemi’s Bookstore, a shop owned by Mrs. Jinhee Park’s daughter, just a street away from Jeon’s Laundromat. It was the bookstore where he usually bought his art supplies back in high school, instead today, he’s not gonna buy something for himself. With the bills he saved in a piggy bank he never thought he owned, he purchased two sets of artist grade watercolors, a set of brushes, and one ream of A4 papers because a canvas and easel was not in the inventory of the bookstore. Once he goes to the city, he will promise Sarang he’ll buy her one.  

           By nine o’clock, he was already going up the stairs of Ahjummah Bongcha’s apartment complex when his arrival was met with a swing of the door and spring entering his line of vision clad in a cerulean sweater, basket of laundry in hands. Except today, spring is not in his shop but in the shell of her home.

           “Hi,” Jungkook smiles sheepishly.

           “Ju-Jungkook-“ her surprise was still written on her face when Jungkook gently pulls her toward back into the warmth of her home.

           When he sets down his huge paper bags on her coffee table, he wipes his clammy hands on his jeans as he looks at her surprised form, confusion still written on her expression.

           “Good morning,” Jungkook adds a wave because he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

           “Don’t you think you should have said that before barging in my room?” Sarang says with a teasing shine in her eyes, but the man could not focus on anything but the way her cheeks are colored in cherry. He hopes it’s because of him.

           “So what’s that?”

           “I – I actually bought something for you. Since I don’t know what type of flowers you like, I figured I’d bring you something you like instead, so here,” he opens the paper bag and shows her the sets of watercolors he got for her, “They may not be roses but they are also filled with colors and I hope you like them.”

           “Jungkook they’re wonderful.” He looks at Sarang’s eyes to find them so glassy and it is until she closes up to him that he open his arms to accept her form hugging him. “Thank you – Thank you so much,” she sniffles. The man immediately pries himself away to look at her eyes, wiping her tears.

           “Why-Why are you crying?”

           She turns away, “No it-s just-it’s just no one has done something like this for me. A-and-”

           Jungkook makes her turn back to him, “and what?”

           “No one really acknowledged my dream, e-even my mom. They sa-said it was just a po-pointless hobby and I’ll never earn anything from it. I usually referred to it as just a ho-hobby but then when you said I have to start coloring my own life and then this-” she stops to look at the watercolors and then at the brushes peeking in the other paperbag. She chokes on a sob again. “I-I never even got the opportunity to buy one for myself and then here you come taking with you all the stuff I ever wanted and needed,” she pauses, “metaphorically and literally and I know I’m blabbering too much but thi-this is all too much. I-I cannot say anything other than than-thank you so-so much. Thank you so much Jungkook.”

           And as her sobs die down her body, Jungkook hugging her and carding through her hair after finding out it calms her down, he finally learns a lot of things he was dying to know. She mumbles she spends her Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays to go to the city to finish all the accounting jobs she does for businessmen in the surplus.

           “I’m so sick of it but I cannot stop doing them because I won’t be able to make as many money I need,” she leans closer to him, her cheek warm with tears pressed against Jungkook’s chest.

           It doesn’t take a toll on her though, she adds, she’s already used to the underside of life. She’s been through horrible bosses before, and didn’t wish a repeat of her experiences that’s why she left the city and went to this province.

           “All of them are horribe – a-all of them.”

           Her painful experience in the working industry was not the entire reason she left home. Eyes red, she doesn’t stop crying. “I left be-because I was afraid my mom will disown me, I told her I will be successful and yet he-here I am - so – someone she could never be proud of. I love her so-so much and I’m afraid she can’t even stomach the sight-sight of me and I-“

           “Sarang, you’re a wonderful daughter any mother could be proud of. She doesn’t need you to be successful or what. You’re already enough; you have dreams and you’re a good person. If you think no one could ever be proud of you - you’re wrong,” Jungkook pulls himself from her to look at her eyes reflecting nothing but him. “I’m proud of you and I’m really grateful life gave me the opportunity to meet you.”

           And that’s enough for her to relax her rigid form, her arms wounding tighter around him as Jungkook sways them to the lull of his heartbeat to calm her down.

           He’ll have to tell her his feelings some other day. Watching Sarang give him a piece of her without him initiating anything is enough for him. He’ll hold onto that piece dearly and when he manages to give her his broken pieces he left in the dead nebulas of his ceiling, he wishes she’ll hold onto them too.

           Jungkook goes to the laundromat and flips the sign to “Come in, you’re welcome.” Sarang did not visit at night.

           Sunday came along with the following weeks and Sarang’s late night visits stopped as her morning laundry duties dwindled into only an hour in the shop around Mondays and Fridays only. She brings A4 papers decorated in different hand drawn mandelas and the watercolor set Jungkook brought her, however Jungkook feels he’s back to square one. She talks like the usual but her clipped sentences, half hearted giggles, and unfamiliar eyes make him think she’s avoiding him. He doesn’t want to go back to what they were before, not when he finally saw her whole piece, not when he wants to take all his chances to tell her he loves her. But if this is what it makes for her to stay a little longer by his side, he’ll wait until she’s ready to share herself again to him.

           Another week passes when he finally sees a chance to be honest with her.

           It was three in the afternoon of a humid Wednesday when he heard whimpers and “Jungkook I-I don’t know what-what’s hap-happening” from a call and immediately, the man closed his shop and sped to the unit he spent his nights wondering.

           “Sarang?” He walks in and finds her slumped by her laundry, tears mixing with the water that started to flood the small room, the water frosty as it reached his feet. He runs to the side and pushes the toppled washing machine upright again. “Shit, what happened?”

           “I – I’m so-sorry! I was just wa-washing my-my clothes then the washing machine suddenly stops and so-something went wrong with the outlet a-and I panicked and sud-suddenly water started overflowing- I’m so-sorry I don’t know what – what to do anymore.”

           “Shhh, don’t cry,” he stoops down to her and helps her up, “I’ll help you fix this, don’t cry anymore.”

           After an hour into cleaning up the flood, and fixing the outlet with another faulty wire he hasn’t noticed that started the trouble, Jungkook sees Sarang by the lavatory of her bathroom, face devoid of tears and hands frantically washing tons of vibrant clothess Jungkook swears he’s never seen on her before.

            “The washing machine is fixed already.”

           She whips her head to him, hands stilling, “Oh-oh thank you, I’ll just finish this.“ She wipes her hands on her old jeans, “Sorry for inconveniencing you, I don’t know what got to me – you can go-“

           “I’ll help you wash those.” Jungkook goes to her side before she can make another attempt to dismiss him.

           Silence ensues but the sound of clothes crumpling and the foamy sound of the soap makes it somehow not quiet. The smudge on the fabric the man is holding won’t come off no matter how hard he tries.

           “You do know you’re washing with hard water right?” Jungkook looks at her, hands already still by her side.

           “What do you mean?” She turns to him, eyes already resembling tower high wall he knows he cannot break.

           “Your clothes won’t come clean- the hard water will make the scum-“

           “It’s fine, I didn’t ask for you to stay-“

           Jungkook pulls her hands away from the soap, fingers shaky as he tries to keep her from looking away from him. “Why- why don’t you just come to the laundromat and do what you do like always? Why are you avoiding me?”

           “I can’t face you.”

           “What?”

           “I really don’t know- I don’t wanna talk about this anymore-“

           “Remember that day you asked me if I make blueprints for a company?”

           His question makes her furrow her brows, eyes trying to get to his intentions. “Whe-where are you getting at?” Now they’re on the same page.

           “I want to be honest with you, and I’m gonna tell you yes, I made blueprints for a company before.” And then he tells her the tale of a brave naïve boy who’s ambitious and thought the city was for him, an attainable paradise for anyone who wishes for more, more, and more. After graduating with high honors, he got easily accepted in one of the prestigious companies, CAE Systems, an engineering firm with skyrocketing gross income. But it will always be inevitable in every big and small organization to have a virus caused by one’s own greed and power and he learned that in his second year of working at that goddamned company.

           “It was astounding what ends people could reach just to get what they want,” her hands still in his, he keeps his stare on her, a stranger in his eyes but felt like home when he felt the squeeze on his hands. He engulfs her in his embrace before he could feel himself shatter in front of her.

            He learned what fraud was having dealt with projects guided by questionable demands from his superior; he learned what embezzlement was when he got close enough to the higher ups to know the appalling numbers on the management director’s bank account. Growing up in a home surrounded by warmth guided by straight morals, he thought he needed to straighten up the strings of a city as stone cold as ice bergs with moral compasses only pointed towards money and power. He idly thought he can end it.

           “I was the reason the company was put into shambles, and it was both my pride and greatest curse.”

           Backed up with an ambitious reporter, he felt like a hero when he handed him every bit of evidence he could get his hands on. The media feasted on CAE Systems, charges were made, and not before long the company was shut down. Jungkook felt he has never done anything in his life as good as this. He only realized he was no hero when he was told no company will ever accept a whistleblower. It was already late for him to learn that no one recognizes good in a place where good is conditional. Resumes were ignored and unpaid bills started to pile up when it finally sunk in he was in a hideous concrete jungle and he was a lion cub who dared to pounce on a cruel hunter.  

           “It was difficult to experience rejection upon rejection, but what’s worse was when I started to doubt the morals I upheld, when my mind thought it misplaced good for bad – it made me miserable and I thought I was going crazy.” He felt tears slide down his cheeks and he cried harder when Sarang wiped them away. “But that’s o-okay, I learned to not blame myself anymore and I started to become happy again here.”

           “I- I don’t know what to-to say Jungkook, I’m really bad at comforting others; I-I don’t even know why you’re telling me this.”

           “You’re already comforting me enough,” he pulls away, “I’ve been anticipating a new year would come and you helped me finally see one, feel those sparks I always longed to feel. I’ve seen you let out your fears to me and I want to not hide anything from you anymore - I really don’t know what we are anymore but that kiss really-“

           “It didn’t mean anything.”

           “What? Sa-Sarang, listen to me. I don’t know if this is lo-love but this is what I-I feel-

           “I don’t believe in love, Jungkook.”

           “What? N-no-“

           “You should go, Jungkook.”

           Jungkook heads home with a broken heart and a broken gaze and he opens the Bacardi rum he locked away in his dad’s liquor cabinet one year ago to stop his alcoholic tendencies. Liquor burns down his throat after he downs his first shot; he finds it useless to smother the pain that’s constricting his throat, filling his lungs with bitter thoughts that he never even had a chance to see his love bloom. It’s cruel he thinks, second shot already making its way down the hollows of his body, to feel this way and not be able to stop what he’s feeling. He thought he’ll never feel anything as abominable as the nothingness and frenzy of thoughts that cursed him for two years, but this - this is harder to accept because he became naïve again.

           He wished he should have stopped being greedy, wanting things to advance when the girl he adores probably never even wanted to be by his side at all. Adults never give anything unconditional anyway – balance must be observed for the order of an ironically unfair world - maybe children do, that’s why he did what he did.  On the side he wished he should have stayed longer and stood his ground when she drove him out of her house, out of her life more directly. Maybe he should have seen her weakening resolve, her eyes probably pleading for him to stay against her fears caused by self-indicted obstacles. But most of all, he wished he should have seen the signs before – Jimin’s speculations, Sarang’s sparsely decorated home, her unusual lifestyle, and the concerning amount of clothes she kept on washing and washing until they fade when he never even saw her wear them at least once.

             Twelve shots downed, Jungkook feels maybe his mistake was not knowing enough of her, maybe if he did, he could have stopped himself from falling when she can’t even hold onto his broken pieces he trusted into her. With his room hazy around him, he grabs his phone and dials the number of the police station where a friend worked at.

           “Hoseok-hyung,” Jungkook manages to not drawl on the phone, “Are you on duty now?”

           “Yeah, Kook, what’s wrong?” Hoseok asks; his tone must have convinced the other he’s completely sober.

           “Can you – uh – Can you look up ‘Kim Sarang’ from your records there?”

           “Hmm… are you sure she’s from Gwangju? No name like that is listed here.”

           “Uh- no- no, nevermind. Sorry for disturbing you.”

           The line goes dead along with the leftovers of the New Year he had. It was beautiful when it lasted.

//

           “You don’t look like you’re getting married Jin, at all,” Jung Hoseok starts, mischief in eyes as they walk down to a restaurant Min Yoongi booked. “You look like you’re getting your first lay around here.” Hoseok isn’t completely wrong when they receive a few lingering glances of other people. They can blame it to their model friend for his Adonis-like looks.

           “Uhh, you do know that’s the purpose of a bachelor party right?” Kim Namjoon pipes in. “To celebrate the last days of single-ness if you are not informed, officer Hoseok.”

           “Hey, I’m not on duty now!”

           “But the badge hanging on your belt-loops says otherwise,” groom-to-be Seokjin says before Taehyung hooks him under the elbow and hops away, “We have to walk faster if we wanna go to other places you slowpokes!”

           It was the 16th of July, peak temperature of summer at a raging 24 degrees Celsius but Jungkook didn’t mind since he had Jimin to fill in the silence for two hours as they travel from Busan to Seoul for the bachelor party organized by Gwangju officer Jung Hoseok and photographer Min Yoongi for their eldest friend,  Kim Seokjin. He shouldn’t have put on his hoodie over his white tee but Jungkook reasons he cannot feel anything that summer inflicts.

           Jungkook sips his water as he smiles along the ruckus made by his friends yet he can’t make his smile wider than he wanted to. Not when the first girl he ever adored did not show up in the laundromat for the rest of the weeks; not when he never saw her face around the neighborhood again even though Jimin informs him “I haven’t heard about anyone moving out yet so for sure she’s still here.” He suddenly hears the loud guffaw Hoseok makes when Jimin nudges his elbow.

           “You alright, Kook?”

           “Yeah,” Jungkook wishes.

           Jimin looks around before leaning towards him. “Don’t think about her for now, let’s enjoy ourselves for Seokjin. Let loose, just for now.”

           The past two hours whizzes by with laughter and stories of Seokjin’s scarce dating life before Hana, of Yoongi’s proposal to his long term girlfriend signaling another wedding to be anticipated, Hoseok’s recent promotion, Namjoon’s prospering business, and Taehyung’s everyday mishaps as a veterinarian. Jimin talks about Minyoung and the probability of them moving in before he pops the big question of marriage and Jungkook just tells them everyday is still the same in the shop though he finally got over the CAE incident and he sees his friends’ smiles become wider. After their hearty dinner, they pranced to the nearest arcade where Jungkook loses himself in the fun playing basketball and claw machines, especially when he crushed all of his friends in Dance Dance Revolution.

           The night was getting deeper when Hoseok leads them to a bar he booked to have some alcohol to tone down the liveliness buzzing in their veins. It’s the last part of the bachelor party they planned so “Seokjin can waste himself for the last time with no regrets,” as the police officer said.

           When they entered the bar with neon signs that spelled “St. Jude’s,” does Yoongi take a double take.

           “Hoseok, you booked this bar? I told you to book a decent bar, not filled with strippers!”

           “Shit, I booked Anne Marie’s wait-“

           “Why did you lead us to St. Jude’s for God’s sake where is Anne Marie’s?”

           “I did not see the sign sorry! Anne Marie’s-“

           Jungkook can barely hear what they are talking about when he felt his eyes adjusting to the strobe lights and the pounding bass of the bar. However all of that stops when a slow song starts to play and a spotlight is centered to a girl on the stage wearing nothing but a pair of scarlet high heels.

           Even if she changed her hair color, Jungkook won’t forget her hazel eyes and the soft curve of her thin lips.

           “Jungkook, we’re going, what are you-“

           Jungkook stands frozen as Sarang sways to the song, her hands gracefully reaching for the pole before she swings herself off the ground, pale naked body gliding on the metal pole before Jungkook quickly averts his gaze to the left side of the bar with the signboard “Final show: Eve!”. The audience on the tables starts to clap and howl like hyenas; he could already see some man go to what he assumes the manager and mouth “one lap dance” before motioning towards Eve. Jungkook feels nauseous. This is too much.

           “Hyung I’m not gonna leave”

           “Jungkook what-“ Before Taehyung could grab the hem of his hoodie, Jungkook runs up to the stage and grabs Sarang by the wrist. He could already feel Sarang trying to free herself from him but Jungkook only tightens his hold as he maneuvers around the people. Somebody is already shouting behind them and Jungkook fastens his pace as his eyes finally land on the fire exit sign. He pushes the door open into an alleyway and immediately takes off his hoodie, slips it on Sarang’s shivering body and then he’s grabbing her by the wrist again and hails a taxi, pushing Sarang inside before he gets in and tells the driver to get them anywhere away from the bar

           Sarang refused to look at him, fixating her gaze on the window of the vehicle watching the city whizz by. Jungkook falls into silence, only watches the reflection of the mascara tears ruin her cheeks as sobs seize her body. He guessed he wasn’t wrong at all with the drastic 120 and 60 split of their supplementary lines. He was just entirely wrong to think her minimal hours in his life was acute when the entirety of her life was an entire obscurity for him. Jungkook looks away, not knowing what to say as the taxi speeds away in the blur of the hideous city.

           Sarang remained silent as Jungkook stopped the taxi in front of some hotel until the moment the man let her inside a room he checked with an amount he can afford.

           “What do you want, Jungkook?” she seethed, her voice sounding so hard and unfeeling.

           “I don’t need you to explain or what I just want you to stay with me-“

           “Bullshit, Jungkook! BULLSHIT!” She suddenly fumbles with his hoodie, hands immediately taking the clothing off of her. “I know men like you,” she spits, “All you want is fun, right? Well here it is!” she exclaims, grabbing his hand to place on her shoulders, “Touch me, savor the moment after the scene you caused earlier, you can have all of me right here, right now!”

           Jungkook stoops down to pick his hoodie up to give it back to her. “Put this back on.”

           Sarang slaps his hand off, dropping the fabric to the floor. “What are you doing?! Now’s your chance, get on with it! Or are you that type who wants me to strip first before you do your thing,” she leans toward him again, her face contorted in a twisted scowl. “Do you want me to bend over too, sir?”

           “Is that what you really think of me, Sarang?” He keeps his gaze at her, the tears on his clouding his vision not enough to deter him. “Or should I call you something else since that name is probably forged?”

           He knows he finally broke down the crumbling walls she kept holding when Sarang wails as she hugs herself, cries rocking her figure as she kept mumbling “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Her apologies and hoarse cries filled the midnight in a distorted lullaby Jungkook felt long ago but never knew enough as he shifts in the couch, limbs numb. He stares across the girl on the bed, her back facing him, but it doesn’t hinder him from hearing her soft voice breaking the silence.

           “Why- Why did you do what you did earlier?”

           “I don’t know- I tend to follow my feelings first before thinking about the consequences.”

           “I don’t know why you’re doing this-“

           “I love you”

           “No, you don’t get to say that! It’s so unfair, you don’t-”

           “Why?” Jungkook finds himself sitting up. “Why? Tell me why is it unfair because for the past weeks I’ve done nothing but reach out to you, give you my heart only to be shut down so many times and I still don’t know why I’m even trying. So tell me, why is this unfair.”

           “You scare me, Jungkook. You scare me with the things you make me feel.” Her voice is barely above a whisper but he still hears it anyway.

             In the morning, Jungkook wakes up with a heavy heart and a yellow paper with his name replacing the spot where Sarang laid.

           He stands up, stuffs the paper addressed to him in his jeans pocket and sends his apologies to his friends immediately, especially to Seokjin. He leaves the hotel, leaves the city with the letter unread as he takes the earliest train back to Busan.

 //

 “July 16, 2012

Jungkook,

I’m sorry for all the things I have done, for all the things I’m about to do. I liked your stories, I do. They remind me of the warm town I was born in. But it also filled me with remorse.

You must have wondered at first why I do laundries abnormally frequent. I always wanted to wash away the dirt I’ve always felt. I grew up in a money hungry city which has never been touched by anything akin to love. I understood why at the age of 16 when I decided to let myself fall for someone as foolish as me. We left town and he led me to the city and introduced me to the land of dreams, of success, of everything men has ever wanted. But then I realized not everything is perfect; beauty blinds up the things we needed to see and he was the perfect example. He was lovely at first, until he started painting the mandelas I do on papers onto my skin. I never thought this same love will bring me my humiliation when he made a business out of me, my utter damnation when I realized there was no other way back.

I always got used to what the outcomes will be, the aftermaths of the things I have done. And then you came and I suddenly felt I was back to my youth again with nothing to worry, nothing to feel ashamed about. I started having dreams again. But I know this side of paradise will only crumble because I knew I have never been welcome to experience heaven as a luxury. So I never came back to your shop again these last weeks. I tried to wash my sweaters, the things I loved wearing whenever I’m with you. No matter how I tried to cut off everything related to you, I know I can never erase your scent from them; I can never erase you from the back of my mind.

I know my explanations are delayed and they may sound like excuses. I’m never fond of confronting you yet because I know I’ll only cry. Even if I’m a whore who probably knows the taste of every man who roamed this city, you’re the only one I kissed with my lips. I don’t know if this is love yet, and the mere thought of it scares me but when I saw you wanted to stay by my side even after all my dirt and grime must have repulsed you, I wanted to be selfish, I want to stay by your side too.

I left a lot of loose ties when I moved to Busan; I can't let these nightmares from here to the town. I need to sort them out first and I need to fix myself, too. I don’t know if you’ll wait for me, but I naively hope so. If you didn’t know yet, I slipped you letters on the pot beside your bicycle rack when I came from my work here. Even if you don’t believe them I hope you’ll read them. They’re the only things I’ve ever been completely honest about.

My real name is Kim Sarang, and meeting you was surely a blessing.”

 Jungkook flips to the next letters.

 “July 13, 2012

Jungkook,

I don’t think I’m even allowed to say I miss you after shutting you out and suddenly disappearing but your face is what I can only think about these days. I can't even write ‘dear’ to address you not after the things I have done. You make me feel things I don’t even deserve in the first place. I’m sorry, I really am. I thought about moving out because maybe you’ll never want to see me again but I’m sorry I can’t bring myself to actually do it. I can’t.

I’m frequently in Seoul now; I need to pay my debts as soon as I can, he already went to my home and I can't have him anywhere near you. My method might repulse you but I have no other way left. After I’m done, I’m cutting myself from this life for good. I’ll tell you the whole truth when I got back and finally fixed myself.

P.S. I finally understood what doing laundry with hard water does to your clothes. It ruins them and makes the dirt stick on the fabric. I’m washing with soft water now. Hope this lightens up the mood of my horible life.

- Sarang”

“June 14, 2012

Dear Jungkook,

The watercolors are fantastic! They were so so pigmented and I've never seen such brush shapes and sizes! It's summer and I can't believe it felt like it's my first Christmas. The last time I had Christmas was when I was 14.

I think my thank you's are not enough to let you feel my gratitude.

-Sarang"

 "June 2, 2012

Dear Jungkook,

I'm not an accountant. I've never even been in college. My mother was an accountant and I used to help her when I was young that's why I know some things. I've made decisions I will always regret that I can't even ask why my life turned out to be like this. I work in St. Jude's every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday and it was horrible, disgusting, and pathetic. I abhor how it's name perfectly suits a filth like me, a very impossible cause. I feel more miserable when I can't even tell you that personally after all your honesty. I don't want to witness the repulsion that will cross your face. But I don't know what to do; I've got no diplomas that can enable me to have a respectable work and I've got huge debts I have to pay just so I can have at least a fraction of a normal life here in Busan. They say the past will always catch up to you and it's fucking true 

I actually planned to end everything yesterday night. And then I remembered you and I know I can't just go without having one last moment with you. I never imagined that night would be a miracle. You told me I can find my dream and it was the nicest thing I've ever heard; after years of begging for someone to say 'everything is gonna be alright' even though it's not, I finally heard it. It's enough for me. I'll keep on living and I promise you, someday I'll tell you everything.

-Sarang"

      Jungkook unfolds more and more papers, and he finds numerous post it notes and her watercolor drawings. There's a painting of his silhuoette by his desk.

          "I always think you have a nice side profile."

           He flips to the next and it's the replica of the interior of Jeon's Laundromat all in pastel with two silhouettes sitting in front of washing machine number - him and her.

           "I'm sorry I always stay long here. Chatting with you here felt the closest to home."

           But what makes him still is the last drawing in his hand. It's a portrait of him smiling, his eyes twinkling, and he looks so happy.

           "You told me I had to color my life and I decided I'll do a portrait of someone and the first face that came to my mind was yours."

 //

             Summer melted and the crisp chilliness of autumn settled in when September peeked in but the chilliness was not enough to cool down the hyped conversation on the phone.

           "Really?! Wow! Congratulations on the news Seokjin hyung!" Jimin turns to Jungkook, "Hana is pregnant!"

           The younger grabs the phone. "Hyung, don't stress out Hana too much and I hope she's gonna be a girl so you get to beat the guys that will come close to her." Jungkook laughs, "I wanna see those long limbs put into use."

           Jimin gets the phone back and updates Seokjin that Minyoung moved in with him recently, and Jungkook could hear the man's windwiper laugh from the other line.

           The call ends with Seokjin telling them Yoongi's wedding will be on December and that he, Jimin, and Namjoon will be the ones in charge of the bachellor party.

           When the call ended, Jungkook turns to Jimin while turning the stem of the Daffodil he was holding between his fingers. "Junghyun's gonna visit next week."

           "Really? I'm gonna call Taehyung then so we can all hangout. He's on a break anyway for whatever reason he convinced his superiors."

           "I'm not even surprised he can do that. Anyway he can finally have the drawing lessons he wants so bad," Jungkook snorts, "He said my skills are already rusty and I'm a bad teacher."

           Before Jungkook leaves the shop, Jimin's voice stops him, "Still waiting for her?"

           Jungkook's hold on the yellow bloom was firm. "Yes," He says and he exits the flower shop with a smile before he crosses the street and opens his laundromat.

           Jungkook looks out from his glass door and watch the waking town in the early morning haze. Mrs. Taehee Jung is folding her laundry above Jimin’s flowershop. Convenient stores have now opened and Old Sangmin’s bakery is already filled with people. Kim’s Italian Restaurant is about to open like the usual. He waves to Mrs. Eunhui and towards Mr. Changmin Park who passes by. Everything is still the same, he sighs as he looks at the daffodils starting to bloom in the small potted garden he made with the help of Jimin and his chest warms at the sight.

           He wakes up from his trance when Mrs. Eunji Song pulls the door open. He welcomes her in.

           "It’s my first time seeing them," she points out.

           Jungkook follows her line of sight and his eyes lands on the watercolor paintings gracing the walls of his once barren pale blue walls.

           Jungkook replies, "Ah, I got them framed last week. I only got them today, Mrs. Song"

           "It's a painting of your shop, and wait - is that you?"

           Jungkook nods with a smile.

           "The colors are wonderful, very lively, an exact replica of you these days" she looks back at him, amused and impressed. "See? It looks so the same! Who's the artist?"

           Jungkook's smile stretches wider. "Kim Sarang."

           The people around this Monday morning was sparse which allowed Jungkook to sketch the outlines of the shops thay line across his laundromat. His disposition was undisturbed until it was nine o'clock and the wind chimes resounded around the rather empty laundromat.

           "Welcome-“

           "Hi, Jungkook."

           In the middle of autumn, it felt like spring again. Even if he has never seen her for so long, he'll recognize her warm hazel eyes and the timid curve of her lips. With cherry red sweater, blue  cropped jeans and a her raven hair in a bob cut, Sarang looks at the artworks on the wall, her own paintings displayed with her name printed in small fonts on the paper.

           She looks back at him, eyes glazed and her mouth agape.

           Jungkook feels his heart thundering against his ribcage. "Yes, I waited for you." And even if she needs a year, he knows he will still wait.

           Sarang leaves her sketchpad and her watercolor set he bought for her on the bench as she sped her way to him. Jungkook already stretches his limbs, welcoming her back in his arms, back in her home. Jungkook tightens his hold on her as he felt her tears wet his cardigan, strings of gratitude filling the rhythm of Jungkook's swaying.

           "I've done a lot of thinking - and I know I've got better things to tell you, she mutters, "but the first thing I want to tell you is that I finally know what my dream is."

           "What is it?"

           "My dream," she looks up and Jungkook finds himself reflected in her eyes, "was to know how to love again, to feel new beginnings," and then he tastes them on the softness against his lips, the sweetness of youth and euphoric feeling of happiness. She moves against him with ardor, sparks flying and colors bursting behind closed eyes as Jungkook basks in the thrill and adrenaline of finally having everything back in his life. Sarang looks at him, with eyes reflecting him and him only as she says against his lips, "And I finally got them."

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. No reposts, modifications, and translations of content is allowed without direct permission.

[jhara-ivez]

Enderal Character Ask// thx to The R3d Painter

1. The basics Name: Jhara Ivez (Jhara->“Misery“, Ivez->“Archer“)

Sex: male Gender: male Age: 25 Race: Half Arazealean Eye color: Light blue Hair: Blond Sexuality: bi

2. Describe their appearance. He’s intimidating. Like 90% of the time. The other 10% is very boyish. 3. How do they like to dress? He usually wears the armor of the Ash Warrior outside of Ark. Inside Ark he likes to dress more casually, but mostly he prefers darker shades of colors.

4. Do they have any markings (scars, tattoos, birthmarks)? He's got a lot of scars from his Ostian days. Mostly from aggressive stray dogs.

5. What are they like? Describe their personality (use whatever tools you like):

I don't need a crown,

no palace, no jewels,

wherever I am,

every place is my home.

I am a tramp,

but I am free,

the cup passed from me.

To be free does not require much.

Only who is free is a king.

Shameless takes the cheeky thief

because he forges his own luck.

What others dream of,

I'll take at night.

My walk is equal to a white wedding horse.

A fearless king,

guarded by mercenaries,

a vain god... in my heaven

(In Extremo – Frei zu sein)

6. How would they describe themselves? He would describe himself as a stray.

7. Education level? He's skilled with numbers and is able to read. That's basically it.  

8. What are they proud of in themselves? What are they embarrassed about? He's proud to outwit anyone at cards and dices. He's also proud to be quick and rather talented in stitching things together... He's embarrassed about his sleeping pattern. People randomly try to give him 'good advice' on how to get to sleep properly („Drink some hot milk!“). 9. Do they know any languages other than Inal? He knows the language of his mother's tribe.

10. What, if any, aspects of their mother’s culture influenced them growing up? Due to his mother he learned how to deal with horses. She told him a lot about her country of origin, the customs and language. A great deal was his mothers book of arazealean fairytales, they both hid from the fathers eyes. He learned about the original meaning of words like 'freedom', 'heroism', 'survival' and 'war', that were completely misused in the southrealms ideology, which made him wary about the Creators ways.

11. Name a song (or a few) that remind you of them. In Extremo – Frei zu sein In Extremo – Zigeunerskat

12. Speaking of songs, can they sing? What is their voice like? How about instruments? His voice is pleasant and has a certain melody when he speaks due to his accent. I always imagine him to sound a bit like Kendji Girac. Singing or music was never something he did on his free will (although he might be able to sing without all of Ark closing their windows and doors to him)

13. What was their life like before coming to Enderal? Jhara was born on a stormy day in winter. Yet as soon as he was born it was not sure if he would survive, not because of illness, but because his father was sure that he was not his own blood. This may be true. Jharas mother married his father eight months ago by force and lived in Arazeal before, maybe spending time with other lovers. In his fathers eyes Jhara therefore was a sin, that was to be killed or to be abandoned. Why he did not do any of it is still unknown. His fathers hate is seen clearly in Jharas first name, meaning 'misery' in the old language of the arazealean tribes. His childhood was marked by violence, against his mother and himself. The most important reasons being his fair skin-, eye- and haircolor which gave a great contrast to other inhabitants of the southern realm, who mostly appeared to have darker skin and darker hair along with darker eyecolors. Four years after his birth his sister was born. Jhara liked her although she was clearly his fathers first choice. Nonetheless he tried to be a perfect son, working hard on his familys farmyard. His maintask were the horses, and since his father liked it better if he was outside he spend a lot of time with these animals. Political events never reached his ears. His father did not talk about any of it at home and Jhara never left the farmyard and its surrounding area. The transition of power in Ostian came unnoticed, as well as the massacre that happend just a few hours afterwards in the city and the urban fringe. Later this night the tempels militant elite, commonly known as the masked men, came to the farms, lit up the houses and killed a lot of farmers in cold blood. Jharas family was part of the desaster. He luckily (?) was not at home at the time but saw the smoke from the distance. By returning to the farm it was already too late. Not knowing what to do he hid himself and stayed near the house for a few days before hunger was too strong to ignore. Begging on other farms to get a new place to stay he was send away with insults and prejudice. His only chance was the city, but the way was tough. Desertheat and dangerous animals lurked everywhere. His horse did not make it in the end, which was another blow of fate to aggravate the pain. When he made it, finally, Ostian was not what he expected it to be. The city was dangerous and monitored. Guards were everywhere. Other children and teens on the streets lived in groups, hidden from the guards, Most of them got into fights a lot of times with each other, but also provided some kind of protection. Jhara was not welcomed, since his outer appearance was considered 'too noticeable'. All on his own he survived physical and psychological violence from other teens, passersby and the militia. These experiences significantly shaped his behaviour. Surviving in a world where the stronger one has less problems, where the militia showed violence and aggression without reason and death was nothing uncommon, he developed aggressive behaviour himself. Pickpocketing, stealing and getting into fights became his usual business, as well as the trade of stolen goods. He also learned to hunt for snakes in the swamps und the desert.

14. How did they decide to leave Nehrim? The final decision was made when the war between the realms of Nehrim became unbearable and the harbour was shutting down.

15. Describe their relationship with Sirius. Sirius was the only one who dared to befriend Jhara in Nehrim. Nevertheless the relationship was complicated. Jhara often made fun of him for being 'not even able to pluck a chicken' while Sirius tried to be Jharas good conscience with questionable success.

16. Who do they blame for what happened to their family? It was only because Jhara snuck away that night to spend time with his favorite horse that he survived the mass execution, so he partly blames himself too. What he found when he returned was traumatizing. Strange men with swords made of silversteel and his family screaming in agony and fear, crucified and burning.

17. Apart from stowing away, have they ever broken the law? Too often to count.

18. How honest are they? Under what circumstances would they lie? Jhara is seldomly honest. He's closed off and knows exactly what to say to get what he wants. The only time he is clearly honest is when he's around his horse since horses read body language and not words.

19. Worst memory(s)? Best memory(s)? Best: The image of seablue eyes Worst: Besides seeing his family, his horse, Jespar, Bushybeard and Sirius die and being bitten by a rattlesnake?

20. Fight, or flight? Depends on the rate of success.

21. Describe their combat style. Jhara fights with two swords, a) the Falcata which is perfect for crushing someone's head (it's useful for cutting wood too) and b) a longsword which is perfect for blocking and parrying. He depends strongly on his own reflexes and his quick feet (if a fight does not turn out as it was supposed to). He uses the kiléan bow from horseback. In occasional quarrels he depends on his fists and dirty tricks. Jhara: “Oh deer!” *rips a deerhead from the wall and throws it at the opponent* Jespar: “No deer-jokes as long as I am still here...

22. Have they ever killed before? What is their reaction to combat? He has never killed in Nehrim since all of his actions there were supposed to happen without being seen. In Enderal however, after figuring the whole shit out, combat sometimes gets a bit out of hand. His lack of moral codes makes him a merciless fighter. Sometimes he even thinks about killing as something funny and makes it even more painful for his opponent. If rage takes over the identification of the remains can turn out to get quite difficult.

23. How do they react to having magical abilities? Do they use them? Since magic reminds him of the temple's evil priests and militia he refuses from using it except for occasions when he has to.

24. What do they think of Enderal? He thinks the people are unable to haggle properly, are strangely superstitious and can't make proper bread, but in general he likes his new life there. He instantly fell in love with the landscapes.

25. Did they do the Biggest Egg Hunt Ever quest? Yes. And then he encountered the alchemical features and the poor starling never got his eggs.

26. How do they feel about joining the Order? What do they think of Arantheal? Most of the time he has no feckin' clue how he got himself into this mess. He does not fit in and he doesn't like 99% of the people there, but as it seems he has no other choice and at least the payment is quite nice. („And does someone know where all the silver tablewear vanished to?“) Arantheal counts into the 99% of people he does not like. This is mostly due to the fact that Jhara feels like a dog unleashed from the kennel whenever the calculating, old bastard sends him onto missions. He has a feeling that there is something fishy about him, but can not really tell what it is except for the obvious pride-issue and the I-am-infallible-attitude.

27. What is their opinion of the gods (or lack thereof)? Jhara gives a shit about them and he's not very good at pretending otherwise. Gods never helped anyone.

28. Wine, or pipe? Wine. Peaceweed only via second-hand-inhalation~

29. Do they spare or arrest Hallys, the farmer-turned-bandit in the quest, Deus Ex Machina? Why? Jhara spared him. He was more concerned (and secretly pleased) about the fact that he of all people had to decide his fate.  He even picked the decision without asking Calia what she thought about it. In retrospect he strongly agrees that he picked the right verdict, because a dead or imprisoned farmer plus impoverished family is worse than a few people from the Undercity who “can not show their gratitute” properly.

30. What are their feelings and opinions about the Undercity? Jhara doesn't like the concept at all but he visits the Undercity often enough to make some questionable 'friends' down there. In his opinion change must come from within, but most people are too stupid or too weak to even try, especially those who still believe in the gods. If no one is ready to take risks he's not the one going to push them.

31. How do they react to the beggars of Ark? He usually has conversations with them and tells them some secrets to hear some secrets in return.

32. Where and how do they spend their time when in Ark? Jhara frequently visits the Dancing Nomad and the Marketplace. Since he's pretty vain with his hair and beard he also visits the bathhouse in the Nobles Quarter quite often or pays a visit to the Fat Leoran to listen to Gerril's singing.

33. What would they do with three wishes? a) end the Circle b) keep Jespar safe c) keep Meran safe

34. How do they feel about death? Do they fear it? Death is something that occurs to everyone. Jhara is deeply afraid of it nonetheless. Especially now that he has one guy and a horse to protect.

35. What (else) do they fear? Spiders. He absolutely hates them.

36. Do they have any secrets? Jhara rarely ever sleeps. He dozes off a lot but never truly sleeps deep enough to dream. Most nights he spends outside wandering the city or down in the Dancing Nomad, because he feels caged up in his room.

37. How is their behavior around people they like? People they dislike? Jhara is not an honest person. He often plays his own kind of game, cheating along the way and bending rules to his advantage. He can be very charming, funny and downright sexual, but usually he is relatively quiet. He often appears to be out of reach and egoistic. Therefore he does not do friends that easily. If he doesn't like someone and has no further gain from said person he can be very rude. He also likes to step into peoples personal space to test out if they back away or not. For people he likes however he acts like a fallen guardian angel if necessary. He's very loyal and tries to impress them at any given chance. 38. What is their relationship with the companions? Who, if anyone, did your prophet romance? With Calia it's more friendship or comrades-in-arms, but Jhara lacks the commitment to really make it work. Calia does not understand his sense of humour and he thinks of her moralcode as absurd. All in all it just works because both are very patient with one another. Jhara feels drawn to Jespar like a moth would to a flame. The mercenary provides the risk, the adrenaline and also the honesty Jhara needs in his daily life. There is a lot of not-so-friendly banter going on between them, but everyone who takes just one longer look at them can instantly see the chemistry between them. They are both utter idiots – Jespar being Jespar and Jhara trying to imitate a peacock with all his attempts to woo him.

39. Was there any non-companion character that they were close to? That they particularly disliked? Jhara likes Ulfur Featherdance, the innkeeper, a lot. He's always in it for a few words of wisdom, shuts his eyes to cheating at card games and dices and keeps the key to Jharas room. Other than that Jhara took a liking to Lishari and Firespark, even thought the old man probably doesn't feel the same. He especially adores Andrasta Braveblood for her interesting idea to murder people via paintings (and for her beautiful face). A character he disliked was Rynéus because he just dislikes children (minus his sister).

40. How do they feel about myrads? He's terrified of flying. Cuddling the myrads is fine, as long as he can stay with both feet on the ground.

41. What dreams or ambitions did they have before coming to Enderal? What about afterwards? Before: Surviving. After: Surviving.

42. Do they like cities? Or do they prefer the country? Is there a region of Enderal that they like or dislike more than the others? He loves the sandy dunes, blue glowing stones and exotic fauna in the Powder Desert as well as the near beaches, it's where he and the horse both feel at home. Other than that he likes the Goldenforst and the Farmer's Coast. In general there is no region he really dislikes. It might just be a bit too cold for his liking. He likes to be in Ark too, but nothing beats roaming the wilderness.

43. What do they do to lower their considerable stress? There's nothing better than drinking, ripping somebody off at card games or dices or participating in a good old barfight to get all that frustration out of the system. Or sex. Or listening to Jespar's voice.

44. Describe their perfect day off. He would have a cake with a lot of honey and dates and fresh figs for breakfast, stroll through the streets of Ark later, take a nap in a sunny place somewhere and in the afternoon he would fetch his horse and ride to the beach at the Farmers Coast to take another nap there.

45. List three of their favorite things. Three things they hate? Favorites: the heat, the sea, Jespar's eyes (because they look like the sea) Hates: Endralean bread, dreams, spiders

46. What’s in their pockets? Dates, coins, some jewels, lockpicks, Jespar's letter  (maybe a bit crumpled after all that time), a comb (because he's vain with his hair), a hone, bowstrings, a pan, one or two books, coal to write or tag something, two sets of extra clothes, seashells, two blankets, one or two bags with clean water, an XL-scarf, a few pieces of leather or leatherstripes, a variation of needles, some healing potions

47. Pets? Mounts? Treasured possessions? Jhara owns a horse. This horse is called Meran (the brave one). Everyone at the stables knows Meran, because he is the son of a vatyr. He's a rather big chestnut stallion with four white legs and a white marking from his forehead to his lips. The blacksmith doesn't like him and everyone else doesn't want anything to do with him either. He's unmanageable and a pain in the arse. One can not handle him with kindness, nor with friendship, nor with softness. Then again you can not handle him with dominance or aggression or firmness either. And then there comes this foreign idiot and takes one look at the horse and both fall in love with each other immidiatly. Nonetheless it took some time to establish the rules, because Meran was sure that all humans were idiots and unable to give clear signals and had to learn again to listen carefully. At least around Jhara he became very gentle and loyal like a dog, other humans were still idiots. And for Jhara this horse became his little brother because horses are family and must be cared for accordingly. He spent vast sums of money on the most beautiful crafted horsearmour he could think off and when he found „treasures“ like nice seashells or pearls or small gems they usually ended up stitched somewhere on the tack. And when there was that bandit who had the nerve to hurt Meran... Well, it was interesting to listen to his whining for almost the quarter of an hour after cutting off both his hands, piercing his cheeks and tongue with an arrow and letting him dangle from a tree to attract the attention of wolves.

48. How are their cooking skills? He knows how to produce full roasted flavour while grilling an innocent salmon. Honestly he just eats what he gets, without really appreciating the taste. The only thing he is picky with is the bread (he only knows sand-baked flatbread which is not as sour in taste). He loves everything sweet like honey, dates and other fruits.

49. Do you consider any particular quest or side quest to be definitive for your prophet? Which one(s) and why? Into the deep would be the first one, because it was in the seacavern that the bad gut feeling first started to make itself known more strongly. The second would be A song in the Silence because he was deeply terrified of the father and Rynéus and in fact the whole village. And the third was All the dead souls. Because it happened too fast, and Jespar was an idiot to go in there alone, and Jhara got so, so angry and everything became a blurr and in the end he felt just hollow and his outrage had no effect whatsoever because you can't turn back time by slaughtering the sister.

50. How forgiving are they? For example, if they were yelled at in a brothel after searching high and low for this little sh*t, how would they react? Jhara with a broken heart, a lot of dammed frustration and anger is terrifying as hell. In the conversion itself he's patient as far as his patience goes, but afterwards... let's say there happened to be a few innocent people with broken bones on the way back to the surface.

51. What do they think of the Veiled Woman? He would like to know what exactly she is. Likewise he's annoyed of her constant riddles and sudden actions.

52. If they had been a victim of one of the black stones, how would it have affected them? What would they have used its power to accomplish? I think he would have created a bubble where he has his peace and quiet. And just when he gets terribly bored of all this peace and quiet he would go on a rampage.

53. What was their reaction to the Black Guardian’s revelations? Do they accept or reject his offer? In fact the thought did not really register with him. Being dead or not was suddenly unimportant. He heard the offer and Jhara did not think twice about it. He had to save Jespar, to get him out of this mess, if there was any possibility left, even if that meant destroying the beacon and die in the process for real, despite not knowing for sure if Jespar really was dead or alive. Him maybe being alive was enough to die for.

54. How does their story end? Badly.

55. Do they change over the course of the story? In what ways? He changes in a way he can not comprehend. It goes from being important to being important to someone, and I think that's what made the difference.

56. Anything else you’d like to share about them? Jhara adores tigers. He has heard stories about them in Nehrim and always thought that Jespar looked like one of those big cats when he killed off enemies with the grace of a brabaric dancer, who cut one man's throat and had his eyes fixed already on the next target. When he saw a tiger for real the first time he got nearly killed by it because he was so faszinated.

57. Bonus: For you- what are you most excited for in Forgotten Stories? E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.!!!!!!!

[rostamic]

Interview with the Muse

- What is your Full name? Include any maiden names, aliases, or nicknames.

Rostam Morley. The Third. Esquire.

You can shorten it if you really want, but people usually just call me by my full first name. I prefer my full name. Kerry is the only one to call me “Tammy” and she remains the only one because no one else is allowed to. When I was a kid – sometimes even now – my mom called me “Pancake” as a pet name. They said that was the first English word I spoke during breakfast one day. Not even “hello”.

- When is your birthday? Do you know where you were born and at what time?

14th of May (Ordibehesht 24, Persian calendar). Some village outside of Shiraz, Iran. Don’t know what time.

- What is your star sign? Do you know your Chinese Zodiac too?

Taurus. Explains why I’m so good at bullshitting.

- What is your earliest memory that you can remember?

Fuck if I know.

- Where was your childhood home? Was it more urban or rural?

My adoptive parents’ place was a little outside the city. I’d say it was kinda more semi-urban than suburban. No white picket fences or anything like that, just an old type of house that fit the five of us, somehow. I don’t know what type they’re called. Ranch?

(In other verses his family lived in a semi-detached row home.)

- How was your childhood in general? Did your parents treat you well? Did you have a lot of friends?

It started off weird as fuck. It wasn’t easy to get me from my country and the details are blurry at best. It might be better if I don’t know the whole story. But after I came here to my family, it got better. My parents worked hard for me and when I started talking freely they couldn’t get me to shut up. So I got a lot of friends soon enough. Between the neighborhood kids and school kids, I had no shortage of people to play with.

- How was/is school? What is your favorite and least favorite subjects? What were your grades on average?

School was school. I didn’t get perfect marks and I didn’t want to – just to pass. High school I did the worst. They were being unnecessarily hard to “prepare” us for... what exactly? I found university easier than that. That was bullshit. But, like I said, I passed.

- Did you have a best friend growing up? What was their name? Are you still in touch?

I had some best friends. There were a whole bunch in the neighborhood and I had two at school. A few of them moved away or transferred to other schools and the ones that didn’t weren’t my friends anymore as the years passed. Our interests were no longer the same. That’s fine. Shit happens.

- Were you in any cliques?

No. I talked to everybody.

- Best childhood memory you can recall?

Playing outside, throwing rocks and chasing each other with sticks. It’s not really a memory, it’s a feeling.

- Worst childhood memory you can recall?

I got trapped in an elevator once. I decided to go off exploring on a school trip. Something malfunctioned on the way up. It felt like hours I was in there but it was probably only 30 minutes at most. That wasn’t fun.

- Name an event in your childhood that has shaped you into the person you are today

I sound like a broken record and I usually don’t bring it up, but being adopted tops the list. I don’t know what my life would be like if I stayed in Iran. Thank God I wasn’t born a girl.

- What is the dumbest thing you have ever done to impress someone? Were they impressed or was it all for naught?

I’ve done a lot of dumb shit but it’s rarely to impress anyone.

- Did you ever have any sweethearts or lovers? Do you have a boy/girlfriend?

I’ve had many lovers and a handful of exclusive relationships. I’m not spoken for now. ;)

- Are you a virgin?

Ha. Not since I was 14.

- Do you ever plan on getting married in your life? Do you want kids?

I think it’ll be a long time before either of those things happens.

- Would you rather have your own kids or adopt? How many kids would you want?

Ideally both. Being adopted myself, I was very lucky to get a home that treated me well. If I had any kids at all, maybe 4 total – biologically or otherwise.

- Do you think you'd be a protective parent or a relaxed parent?

Probably a mix of them.

- How would you prefer to pass away? Surrounded by loved ones and at peace, or while doing something heroic?

If anything, I wanna die quickly.

- Generally, how healthy are you? Do you get sick or injured easily or are you fit?

I’m healthy. I don’t get sick very often. My serotonin could probably use a boost.

- Have you ever been badly injured before?

A few times. The worst was from a fight in high school. Me and some other guy were arguing over some stupid shit in retrospect. We weren’t the least bit sober and when you’ve got two angry teens rolling, shit hits the fan quick. I’m only glad fists and knives were involved and not guns.

- What is the worst injury you have ever gotten? What was it and how did it happen? Were you ever close to death?

That fight. I still have a scar on my side from it.

I’ve skirted fate once or twice. I might not be so lucky the next time.

- How many times have you been to the hospital/doctor's?

Maybe 3 times? I don’t know, I don’t count them.

- Have you ever had a concussion or brain injury? Have you ever had amnesia?

I got a mild concussion from a fist fight. I’ve also blacked out at parties once or twice. I like staying conscious so I don’t go as hard as I used to.

- What was the worst illness you ever contacted? Do you know what it was? How long were you sick?

The clap. It’s long gone now. Moral of the story: Wrap it before you tap it.

- Ever had any extended hospital stays? What for?

No.

- Have you ever had to give yourself or someone else emergency first aid? What happened?

No.

- Are you employed? Where do you work and who do you work for? What do you do?

Manta Talent Acquisitions. I’m a consultant.

- Are you happy with your current job?

It’s fine. I’ve never done anything like it so it’s been a learning experience. The pay is good and I get flexibility. There’s better jobs out there I know but so far, I’ll stick it out with this one. 

- Did you have any previous jobs? What were they and what did you do?

Lots. Did some short summer work through the years. For full time I was a restaurant host, bartender, construction worker, office aide, bookkeeper for a short stint, and now a talent consultant. 

- Most dangerous thing you have ever done?

Drug mixing + alcohol = you might die.

Shower sex is a close second.

- Do you consider yourself a more active person or a more relaxed person?

Active.

- What is your dream come true? How about your worst nightmare?

I’m not letting you use that against me.

- What is the biggest and most important goal you have set for yourself?

Be a little less temperamental.

- How persistent would you say you are? How much does it take to get you to give up on a task?

It takes forever for me to give up on anything because I don’t like to give up.

- Would you surrender yourself to your enemies or fight to the very end?

That depends on the circumstances.

- When do you usually do your shopping? What is currently on your shopping list?

Groceries I get after work or later at night when the rush is gone. I get my clothing and home things whenever I need them.

- Top three things on your wishlist?

I’ve got what I want right now.

- Currently, what is something you want but do not need?

See above.

- Do you like shopping? What is your favorite thing to shop for?

I don’t care either way. I get what I need and go.

- What is the most expensive thing you have purchased? Was it worth it?

My car. Hell yeah it was worth it.

- What would you do if you were suddenly given one billion dollars out of the blue?

What wouldn’t I do? That’s the real question.

- What would you describe your style of clothing as?

Ah... A nicer kind of casual.

- Do you have any hobbies? Name all of them if you can.

My hobbies? Just watching movies or listening to music. Socializing. Running. Whatever I find interesting at the time I guess.

- Do you like and appreciate art? What is your favorite piece of artwork?

I’ve never been a big art fan. Leonid Afremov has great stuff, though.

- Do you like music? What is your favorite style of music?

I like rock music, but I’m also a basic bitch and listen to top 40.

- Have you ever seen any musicals? What is your favorite?

No. I don’t like singing in shows. People get really angry when I say I don’t like different animated movies.

- What are your top three favorite animals? What would you say your "Patronus" or "Spirit Animal" is?

Elephants. That’s really it. 

Look. How could you not like them?

- What are your top three favorite colors?

Burgundy/maroon, grey, and... I don’t know. White? Black? Yellow? As long as I look good in it.

- What is your favorite season? Do you prefer hotter or colder weather? Do you like snow at all?

Summer. I’ll take hot weather over cold. Cold’s got its benefits, though. As for snow, it’s great to look at and play in, but I’m paying someone else to clean that up.

- What kind of flavors do you prefer: Sweet, Sour, Bitter, Spicy, Dry, or Umami (savory meat taste)?

Every taste has its place in my heart and stomach. 

- Can you cook at all?

Yeah I can cook. But for you? For a price.

- What is your favorite dish? Can you prepare it? Do you have the recipe handy?

Breaded chicken served with oven-roasted allumette-cut potatoes paired with a spiced tomato reduction sauce. I can make it, but I don’t use a recipe so it tastes a little different each time.

- What is your favorite fruit and vegetable?

I love nectarines.

- What is your favorite dessert? What is your favorite type of candy/treat?

Favorite dessert is cookie dough ice cream.

- What is the best thing you have ever had the opportunity to eat? What is the worst?

Pus-- I really love nectarines. The worst was liver. 

- Do you like to drink tea or coffee? Any favorite flavors?

I hate coffee, so I’ll always go for tea. I really like hibiscus tea but I’ll go for any kind of tea.

- Describe your sense of humor.

Situational. Bawdy. Dry.

- What is one thing you are justly proud of?

Where I am now financially. My job, where I live, the things I have. It took a long time to get here. Everything else in life is a work in progress.

- Do you have any religious beliefs? If not, have you ever been to a church service?

I don’t care what you do in your free time. I’ve only been to churches for weddings or funerals.

- What would you say is the worst thing someone has done to you? What is the meanest thing someone has ever said to you?

I had an ex-friend who almost blackmailed me into some serious crime. I’m not talking little drug runs, I mean stuff that’ll get you locked up for the rest of your life and then some. I had to get out of that before things got bad. Mean words on the other hand don’t mean anything to me. 

As for the absolute worst thing someone’s done to me, I’m not gonna talk about it.

(It’s a very sore subject for him, sorry!)

- What is the worst thing you have done to someone? What is the meanest thing you have said to anyone?

I’d never hurt a fly. Honest.

- Share the latest entry in your diary/journal.

Don’t have one. My old counselor suggested me to have one a long, long time ago but I thought it was stupid. I don’t think that as much now, but I still don’t want one.

- What is the most precious thing you own? Is it valuable at all?

A necklace with a little elephant pendant from my siblings. It has no market value but it’s priceless to me.

- Talk about someone you know. It can be someone you either like or dislike.

[proceeds to talk about himself]