#mascot desecration

[reomaart]

The mascot for my Persona 6 project!

Shunned out of the lowest ranks of Macaque society, Momozaru has lost and hurt on the mountain all alone. That was until he was taken in by the Buddhist monks of the shrine and nursed back to health. He stayed with them there and became a monk monkey alongside them, growing a deep spirituality and appreciation for their practices. However, as the International school became established in Ginkakan Valley and tourism increased, the once sacred site of the mountainside temple has been bombarded with foreigners and sightseers, desecrating their way of life. You first hear about Momozaru as the ‘Terror of the Mountain,’ gossiped about around town. To combat the influx of tourists, he has taken to literally combatting them, stealing their items and harassing them away. That is until people start disappearing for good - a mystery that momozaru reluctantly teams up with you to solve, as you venture into the mountain lair to find the cryptid snatching tourists.

[recalcitrantlycaffeinated]

what is your random football team?

The Pittsburgh Steelers! They won this dubious honor through (checks notes) selecting the first person in the 2023 draft whose family/party behind them included a baby. But unlike various teams before them who followed this metric in the 2019, 2020, 2021, and 2022 drafts, they cemented their status as a Good Team through general Wikipedia vibes and significantly less toxic behavior from fans on Twitter. Learning about the organization made me like it more, which was...wild. I fully expected to let the draft baby lottery pick my yearly team indefinitely until I stopped watching football for good.

I like that they don't have cheerleaders and that their mascot is stupid. I like that they're researching brain injuries but that they also have decided to embrace little yellow towels as a sports-sacred item whose desecration by enemy teams invites a swift downfall. I like that they are a team located in my state, so I do see other fans around town, but also still not the actual local team my husband roots for. I like that it seems like their management is Trying to do the right thing in terms of inclusive hiring and the like.

But mostly I like that I spent a whole season on Steelers Twitter (at least, the corner of it I found) and everybody was nice to each other all year long. Everybody was nice to the boys on the team, even when they played badly. Everybody was nice to the coach, even when they were critical of his decisions. Sure, there was good-natured nonsense about rival teams, but it mostly involved talking about the beloved towels and their unfair treatment by our enemies. When players on the opposing team got hurt, or one of our boys did what was clearly an Unfair Football Move, there was compassion and objectivity. It always felt very taking the high road because if we took the low road that would be taking it too seriously. People were too busy crafting the perfect tweet about the towel curse to bring up anybody's family or appearance. No matter what happened in the games, it never stopped feeling like fun, and the insane fluke that was our playoff season last year just made it even better.

None of the four previous teams I rooted for had that magic. Sure, some of them were teams that were objectively good at football...but they never made me love them. Heck, one of them even beat my husband's team in the Super Bowl. They could have been my team for life based on that alone if they had made me feel a positive feeling even one time. But they lacked the magic of kindness!!!

(I was probably not built to be a football fan.)

[marciabrady]

A LOT of what we take for granted in media and pop culture nowadays can be traced back to Snow White more than any other Disney film I think. Theme parks, merchandising, most cartoons, naturally most animated films, heck even anime and other live action films...A person doesn't have to be into Disney but they have to understand / respect Snow White's legacy.

EXACTLY. People are reacting to the desecration of one of the most historically and culturally impactful films of all time. And it isn't like it's just niche fans who are upset, since I know people are saying "who even liked Snow White, you all are using this as a reason to hate a 22 year old woman!!!" (Which btw in and of itself is such a ridiculous statement). But I guess people don't realize that the original director's son literally said that his dad and Walt Disney would be rolling around in their graves, with what's going on. And idk I'm just so sick of the horrible takes that are blindly supporting Rachel. I keep hearing a mixture of the below:

"Why are people upset at her- she didn't write or direct the movie? She's just repeating talking points Disney gave her!" First off, no one held a gun to her head and told her to grimace into the camera or to call Snow White's Prince a stalker or say that she never connected with the movie as a child. Those were her choices and that's her personality coming through. Secondly, it's been confirmed that she has had input on her role and *surprise* her portrayal of the character she was cast as. And third of all, people are upset at her because of her comments, but also because she's a mascot of this movie. She was literally paid to promote this film and be a face for the movie (she herself said that her name was above Snow White's on the title and people needed to get over it)- meaning, if the movie did well, she would've gotten most of the praise and attention, and if it didn't, she would've gotten the pushback. Just because there's a negative reaction doesn't absolve her from the responsibility of that title she chose to take on and was ready to reap the rewards off of.

I have also been seeing people say, 'She loves Snow White!' No she doesn't. She loves being cast as a lead in a Disney movie and took selfies in front of merch because she sees it as a reflection of herself. She hasn't listed a single quality she likes about the character- just why it's problematic to her, outdated, and how she wants to change everything about the personality. Not only that, she literally said she just watched the movie once as a kid and never picked it up again...like, why are people reaching and trying to put words and feelings in her mouth when she's already indicated the opposite?

"People are dogpiling on this poor woman because people hate girls!" I disagree. I think the reason everyone's having a kneejerk reaction is because this is the 100th live action movie no one asked for, and they've been spoon feeding us this incredibly reductive antifeminist take masquerading around as progressivism while not actually giving us anything pushing edge or revolutionary or edgy or meaningful in terms of representation. They're responding to trends 20 years too late and the movement has already progressed, and people have realized how harmful a lot of these takes were at the time.

"She's just a kid! She shouldn't be held responsible for what she said on the red carpet, she's too young!" She's an adult who was cast in a production that, at this point with post production, is going to cost half a billion dollars. She got paid millions for her role. She is bringing to live action the film that this entire company, one of the biggest in the world, is based off of. She has a team of PR agents, of representations, of communication experts training her on how to speak and promote the movie. Also, again, she's an adult! This infantilization of her for her unprofessional behavior is, frankly, insulting. She was given big shoes to fill, and you can't accept that responsibility and all that money, only to cower and say you aren't fit for those responsibilities once the heat comes on you. Furthermore, it wasn't that long ago that I was 22 and I didn't talk like that lol I had better sense than she did at like five. I don't even think 9 year olds would talk as disrespectfully about she did about a school assignment, much less one of the most important roles in cinematic history.

"People hate her because of her SAG strike comments and because she dared to stand up." No, people hate her for demanding streaming money from a movie that hasn't even come out yet, when all she's done is disparage the original creation fans are so upset about, and for being a hypocrite. Again, she's going to demand streaming rights for "standing in the dress of an iconic Disney Princess" when only a few months prior, she snickered and laughed at the Prince's scenes potentially being cut out in post production, saying "That's Hollywood, baby." Did she feel bad for her costars, there, when she was joking about it? I doubt he would've gotten paid residuals if his scenes all got cut. Maybe he should tell Rachel, "That's Hollywood, baby," if she doesn't get any money. And just to confirm- I do think actors should get residuals and compensated fairly, which goes without saying. It's just gross to see someone undermine the work of so many creative artists and talent, but be so quick to try to profit from it. Again, the way she was snickering and laughing "That's Hollywood, baby" makes me feel particularly uncomfortable.

[salora-rainriver]

Thinking about the ways in which tragedies pass into memory.

Within a decade, 9/11 became an edgy joke. Within two decades, its impact is erased entirely.

9 years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the tragedy is given a monstrous face. Four decades after the tragedy, the famed monster has become a mascot, a charming beast - but the horror is still so fresh, and the movie Akira begins with Tokyo flattened. To this day, we look back with silence and horror, sometimes anger at the senselessness of those responsible.

Hiroshima and Nagasaki may well remain a moment of solemnity forever.

Some part of it must surely be the magnitude. Five thousand dead in a building collapse in a major city, on the one hand. On the other, so many gone in an instant that we will likely never truly know the proper number.

But there’s another difference, and I wonder how much of a factor it has been:

The United States’ retaliation after 9/11 was immediate, misdirected, excessive.

Japan, by contrast, surrendered, and their vengeance never came. There could be no retaliation for the Bomb. Only picking up the pieces of the shattered cities and counting the dead.

I remember the question “where were you when the twin towers fell?” My mother can answer that question, but I cannot. I was 4. And it’s so hard to muster an ounce of sadness for the senseless loss of life, knowing the rabid jingoism, the hatred and senseless violence done in the name of those dead.

I have more respect for a tragedy committed by my country decades ago, than one that my own mother remembers clearly.

And I think there’s perhaps a lesson there. That the way to honor the dead, to ensure their legacy remains forever pure, is not to slaughter in their name. Do not retaliate, but instead wait. mourn. Let their memories linger. Let it pass into record, untainted by bloodlust.

And I think about all this… when I look at October 7.

Hundreds dead in a senseless attack. In response, a genocide is amplified. In the name of retaliation, thousands are slaughtered. Children killed and starved, and across the airwaves there is little mourning, only hatred and fury.

Already, there is no respect for those who died, not out of callousness, but because their memories are tainted by the bloodlust and atrocity committed, supposedly, to avenge them. It has only been 3 months. Who is mourning them? Who should mourn them, even? We need space in our hearts for the thousands slaughtered since.

It is nothing less than a desecration to spill so much blood upon their graves.

I’m thinking about all this. It is all so very sad.

[davekat-sucks]

Read your rewrite of homestuck and I loved it. I love that it is still true to what Act 6 was but greatly improved. John really did have the ability to get rings for all the characters or I don't know a dead/ doomed godteir feferi could probably have raised the dead. It's stupid to introduce that plot point of her saving someone only for the mayor, who was a mascot character that was never that interesting. The sprites in act 6 were pointless to the point of being stupid. Davesprite and Jadesprite were good but only because this was a plot device used on the main four kids. Rose, Dave, John and Jade deserved special treatment.

Only thing I would change from your rewrite is that the dancestors are still kinda a thing ish. Here's my idea, Aranea is still a ghost. The rest were all destroyed by Lord English or were lost to time. Who cares which. Hell, Maybe the dancestors just had their soul's crushed recently at the amusement of Damara and Aranea is the only one to escape.

When Aranea shows up in the story she talks to Rose alone. Maybe around the time Rose decides to start on her 12 step journey to sobriety. Aranea gives a short explanation of how she survived and then a recap of her friends' story in the same way that Scratch originally talked about ancestors. Quicker, to the point. Everything we got out of the dancestor's life stories, interests, relationships could have been said in one paragraph at most.

Aranea could still have an interest in Jake for his power, but she needed a better more clear motivation. I think Jake needed to work with her of his own free will but he isn't good enough for her liking and then she starts to manipulate him and brainwash him out of desperation. Maybe she is a victory at all cost kind of character? Maybe the years of isolation in space took a toll on her mind? She was by far the worst antagonist and shouldn't have been treated as one, just like she's a threat. Dirk should have actually used his power at some point to destroy a soul, heres a great opportunity to do just that. He could have actually killed her, and not as a manifestation of Jake's imagination, as himself. I still think Meenah is a fun character but she derails the story and her romance with Vriska was a joke when it happened and their breakup was the only payoff. Damara would be an interesting character to fit into the story but she would still just be another servant to Lord English and the empress was enough to fit that bill.

Maybe the dancestors could have still be a thing but as a side comic, not a part of the actual story. I recall a lot of fans enjoying them even though I did not. I feel the same way I do about them as I do all the new trolls in the new media homestuck has. Horuss is cute though.

I think Wayward Vagabond is interesting as a character, since he was the one to lead the revolution to go against his own Black Kingdom. But sadly after his revival, the writers don't write him as an individual and treats him like pet. It shows more with how Dave and Karkat treat him too. They don't see him as a person person. They see him as an object. And the worst part is that they desecrate his grave by keeping Kingdoms despite they had played with him for Can Town to being democratic. Did Karkat and Dave play along as a means to playcate his delusional fantasy? Was it in a mocking way because they will take over Earth C as Kingdoms later on in the future? Either way, they had fun with their toy and were ready to discard his dreams for their own. The only sprite that wasn't useless is ARquiusprite, but only because he is technically an extension of being parts of Lord English. So plot favors him more compared to the other sprites. As well as a joke that even if Equius is fused with AR/Lil HAL, the focus is more on the AI than the troll because the AI overshadows his personality for the most part and Equius being a Void player, his existence is barely there. The only Void player to have acknowledgement from the narrative is Roxy Lalonde. That could work, but confused on parts like how did Aradia became a ghost again if we see that she's become God Tier upon Derse being destroyed? Sure God Tier beings as ghosts is not uncommon as we see in the Dream Bubbles, but how would it get Aradia motivated to speak with the others when she is adamant on staying alive? Not only that, but I still feel miffed about her being the keeper and watcher of Dream Bubbles, when it was technically Feferi Peixies who made it happen. She was nice to her lusus, who was part of the horrorterrors, and it was her kindness that granted her wish to create an afterlife purgatory for her friends. Aradia taking it away because fan favoritism feels wrong. Worse is Meenah Peixies being created as a means to apologize to Feferi fans too. But would have really liked that actual real life Dirk destroys Aranea's soul. Let's kill da hoe! 8iiiiiiiitch! I also wouldn't mind if Dancestors' story is a separate story. Have it really called Openbound.

[myhahnestopinion]

THE AARONS 2023 - Worst Film

It’s a marvel this category isn’t filled up with superhero films after the year they’ve had. Here are The Aarons for Worst Film:

#10. 65

A Quiet Place screenwriters Scott Beck and Bryan Woods don’t knock it out of the (Jurassic) park with their subsequent Spielberg homage. 65 will have viewers counting down the seconds until they can go home. The science-fiction tale strands stars Adam Driver and Ariana Greenblatt in a B-movie bereft of a reason to see it. The fusion of futuristic tech and ferocious animals should have been easy fodder for frivolous entertainment. Instead, the sluggish pace of the film’s imminent extinction event suggests it wasn’t a meteor or da ice age that killed the dinosaurs; it was extreme boredom. 

#9. Rebel Moon - Part One: A Child of Fire

Director Zack Snyder likes to paint himself as a rebel against a restrictive studio system while being constantly given new opportunities without cause. His latest big-budget misfire is a childish mash-up of Star Wars and Seven Samurai. Par for the course, the prosaic director copies his inspirations while completely misunderstanding their objectives. Already, the film’s awkward and abruptly-ended parade of thinly-sketched characters is being billed as another incomplete vision, requiring not just two parts but two cuts of each part to truly fulfill Snyder’s intentions. Maybe his hardcore fans will be pleased at the end of the prolonged journey; everyone else will be over the Moon long before then.

#8. The Exorcist: Believer

From the beginning, the involvement of David Gordon Green inspired little faith in Believer. Sure enough, the director of Halloween kills interest in his proposed trilogy one film sooner than his last. It’s unclear what exactly led the studio to release a sequel fifty years later that’s tamer than a TV edit of the original. It surely couldn’t have been the return of Ellen Burstyn in her Oscar-nominated role of Chris MacNeil given how quickly the film disfigures and discards the character. That said, it may be for the best that she could excise herself from the proceedings before its embarrassing ending. The franchise is no stranger to desecration but, even at its worst, it was never before this uncompelling.

#7. Five Nights At Freddy’s

Topping the box-office may have demonstrated audiences’ appetite for the haunted pizzeria franchise but, make no mistake, the film adaptation of Freddy’s is as run-down as its central establishment. The animatronic mascots at center stage only manage the most pedestrian of jump-scares; they’re far from the only ones just going through the motions. The script, written in part by franchise creator Scott Cawthon, stretches out its thin premise with banal characters and a bizarre child-custody B-plot. It might have been entertaining if it had been any more cheesy. Instead, Freddy’s only serves up an interminable runtime; five nights has never felt so long.

#6. Hypnotic

Hypnotic is aptly named; the thriller from Spy Kids director Robert Rodriguez certainly commands one’s attention. The plot, which revolves around Ben Affleck sleepwalking through a conspiracy involving dueling factions of psychics, is simply too inane to ignore. Rodriguez wrote his initial script back in 2002 but was clearly susceptible to outside influences; the film rips off several works that were released before and since, including the dream-like architecture of Inception. Although the director may pride himself on his low-budget prowess, even he can’t make those knock-off sequences look good (though they’re not the silliest instance of replicating elaborate scenery on a miniscule budget here). The film fulfills its intentions on one front: once it’s all over, audiences will have a hard time believing any of it was real.

#5. Children of the Corn

The latest offspring of the rotten franchise at least had a kernel of a good idea: the remake roots its characters’ motivations in righteous fury at environmental recklessness rather than strictly religious fervor. However, Children never develops this into any kind of sustenance. The horror here is as, ahem, corny as can be, particularly its stale translation of demonic entity He Who Walks Behind the Rows. Director Kurt Wimmer shows no growth as a director since his last film in 2006, the infamous Ultraviolet; the wooden child actors at least have their youth as an excuse. Sadly though, if ranked within the rest of the series, this one would still land in the middle of the row.

#4. Haunted Mansion

2023 was home to many failures for The Walt Disney Company, but none quite as ghastly as the new Haunted Mansion. It’s baffling how a film this overstuffed with actors (including Rosario Dawson, Owen Wilson, and Danny DeVito among many others) could end up this vacant. Indeed, the biggest throughline of the theme-park adaptation is not its attempted reflection on grief but its pervasive and perverse product placement (One character’s tearful monologue about his dead wife comes complete with a prominent Baskin Robbins namedrop). It’s definitely haunting, just not in the way they hoped for.

#3. My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3

The Big Fat franchise became even more bloated last year with a picture that can most charitably be described as ‘an all-expenses paid trip to Greece for its cast’. There’s certainly no storytelling reason why audiences are still following the adventures of this extended family, which haphazardly include a last-minute wedding of two very minor characters to justify its title. Nia Vardalos finally receives the director’s chair in addition to her regular writing work just in time for there to be no fresh direction to take things in. If she tries to reunite everyone for a fourth go-round, they would be wise to divorce themselves from it as quickly as possible.

#2. Pet Sematary: Bloodlines

Bloodlines resurrects the series last seen in 2019; if this was how it was going to come back, it should have stayed buried. While Stephen King is an imaginative writer, trying to stretch a single chapter of any novel into a feature-length film is like getting blood from a stone. The zombie prequel stumbles its way from scene to scene in search of life, but Bloodlines has nothing for audiences to relate to. Even screen icons like David Duchovny and Pam Grier can’t rouse any interest. Exploiting known franchises may be easy, but, sometimes, making anything else instead is better.

AND THE WORST FILM OF 2023 IS…

#1. Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey 

Disney slowly losing their stranglehold on intellectual property is a bit bittersweet; Honey is bad enough to sour anyone on the idea of a public domain. The shoddy slasher film, which blustered its way onto the marketplace as soon as the filmmakers could profit from it, is barely recognizable as Pooh but unmistakable as crap. Making the lovable animal into a feral murderer may be legal now, but writer/director Rhys Frake-Waterfield didn’t think, think, think up any other ideas beyond just stirring the pot. Winnie is hoping to prey on one’s curiosity with its premise alone. Word of advice? Don’t bother.

NEXT UP: THE 2023 AARON FOR BEST DIRECTOR!

[moriiartist]

‧₊ 002 | GOLDEN

SERIES SUMMARY: The warmth of June has swept over North America, and with it,  summer break. Fresh out of college and armed with a blinding lack of  direction for the future, you decide there’s no better place to be than  Camp Hermity, a remote summer camp in the shadow of Mount. Noxite. Can  you find your life’s goal here, with your campers and fellow staff? Can  you even handle your campers? And… why are the rest of the counselors so  attractive?

Masterlist

Taglist

SUMMARY: Your first day, breakfast with a new friend, and the wonderful idea to give children projectile weapons

WARNINGS: Mild language, mention of drugs, “that’s what she said”, weapons (archery bows + arrows), implied/referenced death

A/N: YES. IT IS I, MORI. BACK AT IT AGAIN. This is slightly rushed, but since I actually do want to finish this series relatively quick, here’s another update! I had to do some research for how to write some of the peeps featured in the fic (no spoilers!), what with my general inexperience writing them, but I’m pretty happy with what I’ve done for now! Love y’all (/parasocial)!

Whoever said that you would be fine with managing a cabin all by yourself was a faker and a fraud, because the moment you opened your eyes in the morning, it was to absolute and utter chaos.

As Xisuma had told you during your orientation, and as you’d taken note of during your initial research about Camp Hermity, all five cabins had a sort of mascot-type thing going on with how they were identified. If you were remembering correctly, besides your group there were the Pandas, the Llamas, the Yaks, and the Rabbits; all color coded, naturally. What had initially sparked your interest, however, wasn’t whatever system the camp had in place to sort children- it was the characterization each cabin had.

You liked to think that you were above using stereotypes to judge certain individuals or groups, but you had to admit that what you had heard was scarily similar to reality. The children that had fallen into your care under the name of the Cyan Coyotes were, for lack of a better term, hyper as hell.

At this point, you were considering ordering drug tests for the lot. You couldn’t have been this crazed when you were a kid, right? Your parents would’ve said something about it if you were. It’s just… insane. Someone must’ve replaced your campers’ blood with pure caffeine, because they were more excitable then coked-up squirrels in spring.

For a long time, you’d debated what the most painful or the most difficult thing you’d done was, but there was no contest now- it was this. You were almost in tears trying to choke back your hysterical laughs as you took in the pure chaos that you’d awoken to, wide eyes flickering from the pair of girls who were jumping on one of the top bunks, to the boys who were outright brawling in the middle of their room, to whatever had been tossed up to dangle from the ceiling light.

Each one of them, of course, still in their pajamas.

Their voices were loud, raised, and rang in your ears as they bounced off the walls. If someone told you that there were forty kids in here instead of fifteen, you would’ve believed them. 

Of course, you hadn’t even started on the interior of the cabin. It was almost as if every single one of the kids had decided to open their packs and dump the contents onto the floor, strewing clothes, toiletries, and bedding all across the cabin floor. You twitched in place as you watched one of the younger girls run down the aisle and almost trip as her foot caught on a stray suitcase. How in the hell did this happen?

All had been well when you had called lights-out the previous evening, with the children each assigned to their bunk and adequately fed and watered- but somehow, some way, they had managed to completely desecrate the sanctity of their lodgings. Now, as you looked out upon the sea of children that you- not a more experienced counselor, not their parents, you- were in charge of running wild, you were almost impressed.

They hadn’t noticed you were up yet, so you were able to just… watch them. A part of you had thought that since the cabin was divided in half, separating the bunks for the boys and the bunks for the girls, there would’ve been some sort of buffer. Nope! Their energy is infectious all the same.

It was eight in the goddamn morning, however, and the last thing you were going to do was clean all of this stuff up yourself.

“Hey?” you called, but your voice was lost in the din. “Hello?”

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, and shouted as loud as you could: “Campers!”

Straddling the line between both sides of the cabin, you got a perfect view of both the boys and girls as they all simultaneously froze. Then, as one, they turned towards you, looking for all the world like… well, children- but children who’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Well, I was going to say ‘good morning’, but it seems pointless when you guys have obviously been awake for a while.”

The closest kid to you, a little boy who you recognized as Christopher (nine, favorite color is orange, likes spy movies even if you aren’t 100% sure he should be watching them), flushed at your words. Meeting your mild but accusational gaze, he lowered his eyes to the floor, ears flushing red in embarrassment. Most of the other kids looked abashed as well, excluding the few others who only stared you down with all the stubbornness they could muster.

You raised a brow. “Well? Are you going to just sit there and stare at me, or are you going to pick this all up so we can go eat?”

On your life, you had never seen anyone move as fast as those kids did. As they scrambled, you couldn’t help but liken the scene to that one part of Ratatouille when the inspector comes in- scattering all across the room in a mad rush to escape your ire.

“When you’re done, remember to wash up and get changed for the day! I won’t feel sorry for you if you rip your jammies during activity time.”

Idly, you rubbed at the dark circles you knew were beginning to form under your eyes. At this rate, you could only pray that you weren’t going to get a migraine.

The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon when you were finally able to get your cabin in order, a smear of light over the purple shadow of the mountains that bled brightness into the ever-bluing sky and cast the forest, the grass, your eyelashes in lurid paint strokes of gold.

Mist hung heavy in the air, cool against your skin and weighing heavily in your lungs as you breathed it in. It wouldn’t last, not as the day drew on and the heat of the sun eventually scalded it away, but you couldn’t help but bask in the momentary chill. Knowing your schedule, you wouldn’t have long to stay in places that were actually air-conditioned, so you would take what you could get.

Your campers formed a neat, orderly line behind you as you trotted down the packed dirt path through camp, only knocking into one another every third step or so. Feeling curious eyes on your back, you half-turned to meet the gaze of the child in front: Christopher, again.

“What’s up?”

He startled, but recovered quickly, leaning towards you with a curious look in his brown eyes. “What are we having for breakfast?”

Slowing down slightly to allow him to keep pace at your side, you hummed thoughtfully. “I dunno, bud. It changes depending on the day, and there’s quite a variety of foods if I’m recalling correctly, but… ah, I’m pretty sure it was something like oatmeal? I think?”

Christopher’s face screwed up. “Ew. Oatmeal’s gross.”

“Harsh,” you muttered, trying and failing to hide the way the corner of your mouth pulled into a shadow of a smirk. “Have you ever actually eaten it?”

“No.”

You coughed to cover up a laugh, bringing a fist to your mouth. You weren’t able to stop yourself from smiling, though, and the corners of your grin peeked out where your hand wasn’t able to completely hide it. “Oh? Then why do you think it’s gross?”

He stared at you as though you were the most stupid person on the planet. “Because it’s oatmeal, duh.”

True to your word, they were serving oatmeal at the dining hall as well as a varied assortment of cereals. You again had to stifle your giggles as Christopher led a herd of campers right towards the Froot Loops, not even deigning to give the other section of the breakfast bar a glance. The workers stationed there were obviously very familiar with what they were doing, and it didn’t take long for you to be shuttled through the line and spit out into the dining area.

The kids settled easily in their tables under the watchful eye of you and the staff, and only raised a fuss when you went to leave.

“Where are you going?” Cassidy (eleven, favorite color is buttercup yellow- not neon yellow, likes zebras) asked, looking like she might try to snag the hem of your shirt before she thought better. “You’re not gonna leave, right?”

Her question garnered the attention of the rest of your campers, and soon all fifteen pairs of eyes were trained on you. Smiling awkwardly, you waved your hand in a manner that you hoped was reassuring. “Uh, yeah! I’m gonna go eat somewhere else since it’s my breakfast too.”

She frowned. “I thought counselors were supposed to eat with us. That’s what they did at other camps I’ve been to.”

“Well,” you said, wilting slightly under her accusational gaze. “The, uh, the dining hall people will be in charge of watching you when you’re eating, and I’ll come and hang out with you guys for the rest of the day.”

They just stared at you. Menacingly.

“... Sound good?”

After a moment, Cassidy nodded, seeming pleased with how uncomfortable she had made you in under forty seconds. You clenched the food tray held between your hands until your knuckles were considerably whiter. These kids were going to be the death of you.

Taking the time to survey the dining hall, you pondered what to do with your free time. Of course, you could always eat in the dining hall with everyone like a normal person; something that would give you the opportunity to get to know your fellow counselors better. You could see a couple of them crammed into a booth near the back of the cavernous room, chatting animatedly amongst themselves.

You winced. It would be rude to interrupt their conversation, and, to be honest, you didn’t have the confidence to just go up and introduce yourself to what was clearly an established friend group. Spinning in a slow circle, you took in your options. None of the tables occupied with kids were particularly appealing, but as your eyes landed on a set of doors that had been propped open, an idea went off like a firework inside your mind.

Grass crunched under your feet as you stepped outside, curiosity and the need for a brief respite away from everything spurring your exploration of the knolls around camp. It was brighter now, the sun’s heat slowly beginning to seep into the air, and you quietly mourned the loss of early morning.

The dining hall itself was closer to the big house than most of the other camp structures, further up the hill, giving you a perfect view of the campsite as it sprawled out across the clearing. Everything from the cabin grounds, where all five groups lived and ate out of, to the sports field, to the branching hiking trails that led deep into the woods- all of it was laid out before you, scenic in its completion. It was perfect for a mini-picnic.

Sighing heavily as you lowered yourself onto the ground, you propped your breakfast tray up on your knees and finally scrutinized whatever you had thrown onto your plate- things that you had picked out on autopilot because you were more focused on getting your kids through the line and fed.

You had only just taken a bite out of the prepackaged muffin you had snagged when you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. Turning your head and expecting to see, I don’t know, an animal or the wind moving some weeds or something, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you were met with a whole-ass person standing just a little bit aways from you.

How the heck did you not hear them walking over?

He was tall- almost around the same height as Xisuma, if you had to guess. Where the brunette was all broad-shoulders and time-tempered steel, filled with an undeniable presence that drew people towards him like moths to a flame, the man still frozen in front of you exuded a different, but still undeniably similar kind of confidence- like he could weather anything that came his way.

However, that was where the similarities between the two ended.

His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his drab green vest jacket, shoulder slumped almost as thought it took too much energy for him to keep them upright. His lower features were concealed by a black gaiter mask, leaving only a sliver of his face visible.

 What caught your eye the most, though, was his hair- pure white and star-like against the lavender sky, fanning out over where it was tied back with a black bandana. Two red eyes, half-lidded, bored unwaveringly into your own, and you suddenly had the overwhelming realization that you were being studied.

“Um, hi?” you tried after a long moment of silence, feeling the tell-tale sign of goosebumps prickling across your skin. “Can I help you?”

He blinked, as though snapping out of some reverie. Coughing, he awkwardly shifted to rub the back of his neck, whatever intense energy had consumed him fading and being replaced with something much calmer. “My bad. I didn’t expect anyone else to be out here, is all.”

A second passed, another, before you got his meaning, eyes widening as embarrassment rippled through your body. “Oh… oh. Geez- I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize this was your spot. I can leave, um, right now, if you want.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound, and the heat in your cheeks grew until it was nearly scalding. “Don’t worry about it, ‘ts not like I have a monopoly on the hill. Besides, you’re the newbie, right? I was wondering when I’d get to properly meet you.”

A gesture towards a spot by your side. “Do you mind?”

“N-no, go ahead.” 

You turned away from him to hide your slightly flustered expression, only made aware of his proximity by the rustle of his clothes and the warmth that ghosted along your side.

It wasn’t hard for you to figure out that this man had to be another counselor. The way he spoke to you and the language he used was a dead giveaway. Stealing a glance, you were relieved to see that he was no longer focused on you, instead fixated on the horizon. You took another bite out of your muffin to stop yourself from saying anything stupid.

“Etho.”

“What?” your brows furrowed, lashes flickering with movement as your eyes darted back over to him. He still wasn’t looking at you.

“My name, it’s Etho.”

“Oh,” you murmured, feeling a little silly. You introduced yourself to him with a nervous smile. He chuckled again, obviously amused at your embarrassment, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a grin.

“I know who you are. We don’t get a lot of new people around these parts, so you’re quite the talk of the town.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, torn between being flattered that the other counselors were interested in you, and concerned that the other counselors were interested in you. “Uh… thanks? I guess?”

Taking another bite out of your muffin was a tactical decision. For one, it allowed you more time to process the fact that you were apparently a big deal, and for another, it gave you an excuse to not talk.

“What have people been saying about me?” you asked after a few seconds of quiet, mumbling around a mouthful of food.

When he didn’t immediately answer, you turned your curious gaze towards Etho, watching as he scratched at his cheek. The light fanning across his face made it look slightly pinker. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Seems like all good things so far.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Really? Can you think of anything specific?”

His gaze was searing when you met it, heavy like a physical weight, sending warmth flooding through your body.

“Well,” he started slowly. “Xisuma says that you’re nice, but a little, ah- overwhelmed? If that makes sense? Going solo for an entire cabin is a big responsibility, especially when your kids seem a little rowdier than most.”

A huff escaped you, the sound tinged with exhaustion. “You could say that again. You wouldn’t believe the mess I had to make them clean up this morning. Clothes were everywhere.”

Although you couldn’t see it, you could still tell when Etho smirked from the self-satisfaction rolling off him in waves. He winked at you. “That’s what she said.”

A shocked laugh tore itself from your throat. It might’ve been the abrupt break in whatever strange mood you had cultivated, it might’ve been surprise that he’d actually made a sex joke, but just like that, you devolved into giggles.

Etho seemed to be startled by your sudden outburst for a moment, but soon the smooth timbre of his voice joined in as well, albeit quieter than yours.

“I’m sorry, I don’t- I don’t know why that’s funny,” you said, gasping for air in between fits. “It’s only been a day and the kids have broken me.”

“Nah, it’s good,” he said, and you could hear his smile. “You needed a laugh.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, a timer you had set going off, and you rose to your feet, brushing off stray bits of grass and dirt. Time’s up- you had kids to corral. “Well, it was nice to meet you Etho. I guess I’ll be seeing you around, yeah?”

“Likewise, Fresh Meat.”

You groaned. “Fresh Meat? Please tell me that’s not my nickname now.”

“Yep,” Etho replied, perfectly smug.

You froze. You stared. You leaned over, ignoring his surprised intake of breath, and tugged his bandana over his eyes. You made your grand escape.

It wasn’t difficult to find your kids and get them ready for the day. They had already all gone to the bathroom to wash their hands, as well as thrown their leftovers and trash away. Crowding around you, sweet as pie, you wouldn’t have thought they’d been anything but nice- that is, unless you caught the haunted expression on a nearby worker’s face.

There was a slim chance they actually got it, but you tried to non-verbally communicate your apologies to them as best you could. Hopefully, they’d understand. Hopefully, they wouldn’t quit.

Right?

The next thing on the itinerary was something that you had to read twice, something that send dread sparking through your body: archery. You don’t know who, exactly, decided it was a good idea to give children access to long-range projectile weapons, but they clearly had never had to work with them. The gleam in your kids’ eyes when you told them what they’d be doing next… you’d be having nightmares about it.

Hopefully, you wouldn’t have to be filing any incident reports. With the way things were going, though, you weren’t too sure than everyone would be making it through the summer alive.

The archery plaza was a ways off from where the big house and most of the support buildings were, shaded from the sun underneath the swaying leaves of a copse of trees. The air had heated exponentially since the sun had risen, dampening your breath and hugging your skin like a large, sweltering blanket.

Leading the Coyotes down the packed dirt path towards the blue and white flags that marked the perimeter of the plaza, the sharp green scent of the forest grew more and more prominent. Camp Hermity itself was not particularly large, the entire clearing in which it sat in barely wider across than 2 ½ football fields, and it appeared that archery was situated the furthest away from the main camp hub.

You weren’t alone, though. Another group of kids had already gathered among the benches stationed off to the side of the main range, chattering loudly amongst themselves. Specialized activities like this one in Camp Hermity weren’t something you could do with only one cabin. No- you were paired up, working with two other counselors to control the horde of excited children.

“Alright, Coyotes!” you called, drawing the attention of your cabin. They huddled around you, buzzing with a mix of excitement and curiosity as they stole peeks of the other kids. “We’re going to be doing archery today with the Purple Pandas! It’s gonna be great, we’ll all have fun, and you can go home and brag to your parents that you’re the next Katniss Everdeen.”

Cassidy bounced on the balls of her feet, grinning ferally. Christopher was about to vibrate out of his own skin. Harvey (eleven, favorite color is black, hates celery) cracked his knuckles, a dark gleam in his eye. At the delight in their faces, you allowed your voice to lose some of its lightness.

“I want you to listen very carefully to whatever the instructor tells you, because you guys can seriously injure yourselves and others if you don’t follow the rules. Do you understand?”

Solemnly, they nodded their assent, and you let them take off towards where the Pandas were sitting.

Loosing a breath, you shifted on your heel to scan for any of the other adults in the area- the specialist instructor, maybe even one or both of the Panda’s counselors. You were rewarded for your efforts when you spotted all three of them standing off to the side, talking in hushed voices.

As you neared, one of them, a blonde man with a dark scarf tied around his hair glanced up. His face fell for a moment, clearly confused, before it lit up with recognition. A smirk stretched over his features. “Oh, hey! Newbie!”

The other two jolted at his sudden exclamation, turning to meet you just as you walked up to them. The taller of the two’s brows shot up as soon as he saw you, expression frozen somewhere between intrigue and bewilderment, while the shorter’s face split into a grin so blinding that it almost hurt to look at.

“Hey,” you said, waving only somewhat awkwardly towards them. “Uh, the Coyotes are all here. We got a little bit held up, so sorry for that.”

The blonde grinned. “I’ll cut you some slack ‘cause you’re new, but you won’t get off so easy next time. Name’s Hypno, I’m the archery instructor.”

“And these fine gentlemen,” he continued, throwing an arm around both of the shoulders of the men next to him. “Are Doc and Ren! They’re the counselors working with you today.”

The leftmost man inclined his chin towards you in greeting. You had noticed he was tall, earlier, but this close up you realized just how huge he was, thick muscles straining against the material of his t-shirt. A wild tangle of charcoal brown hair framed his face like a halo- the same exact shade as the stubly beard that clung to his jaw and upper lip.

Doc’s gray eyes gleamed as he shamelessly looked you up and down, the beginnings of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “A pleasure.”

Caught off guard by his thick German accent, you flustered. Don’t think that it was unpleasant to listen to, no- it was rather… nice.

Somehow, the other, shorter man’s grin widened. Compared to the other counselor, you had to say- the difference was disarming. A Reddish-brown, peach fuzz beginning of a beard covered his cheeks, only just concealing a healing sunburn. His dark hair was pulled away from his face in a low ponytail, baring his earrings, and a red flannel jacket was tied around his hips.

Ren slid the sunglasses that were perched on his nose down dramatically, shooting you a friendly wink. He practically radiated dog-boy energy, and you knew that if he had a tail, it would be wagging madly right about now. “Nice to meet you, my dude!”

Bobbing your head, you swallowed before smiling at the pair tentatively. “Likewise.”

The two stuck by your side as Hypno walked off to effortlessly round up the kids, directing their attention towards the racks of bows and arrows with a kind of seasoned confidence that belied the fact that this was not his first rodeo. You couldn’t help but snort at how they all looked like little ducklings following in his trail, even the most apathetic child showing interest in his words.

“Alright, alright, alright!” he said, clapping his hands together. “Who’s ready to shoot some stuff!”

A chorus of cries answered him, everything from ‘me!’ to ‘I am!’. Hypno’s smirk, which you were quickly coming to realize was basically his default expression, widened. “Then let’s get started.”

The basics, as he explained them to you and the groups, were fairly simple: you get hooked up with one of the archery arm guards, grip the handle of the bow in your left hand using the meat of your thumb, and nock and fire the arrow with your right. Although you tried to pay attention as best you could, it was hard to focus when Doc and Ren began whispering to each other.

You weren’t close enough to pick up the words, the sound of Hypno talking and the ambient noise of the forest covering it up, and you felt a spark of curiosity surge in your stomach. You sidled closer, slightly disappointed when both men broke off their conversation to greet you.

“Already familiar with this stuff?” you asked them, words hushed so you wouldn’t distract from the lesson.

Doc chuckled, baring his teeth in a sharp, white grin. He was so tall that you had to crane your neck to meet his gaze, huffing internally at the pure audacity of his genetics.

“You could say that. We’ve been coming to Hypno’s range for… how many years has it been now?”

“At least two,” Ren added, contemplative. “We’re kind of… Camp Hermity masters.”

You raised a brow with a snort. “What, like jedi?”

Ren looked at you like you had handed him the moon, brown eyes gleaming with a million spiral galaxies. It was almost as if he’d had some grand epiphany, some great revelation, with how his entire frame seemed consumed with pure joy.

“Oh God,” Doc groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling heavily. He was still smiling though, more amused than annoyed. “You’ve activated his trap card.”

Bewildered, you couldn’t find it in yourself to startle when Ren grabbed you by the shoulders. His gaze was intense behind the tinted lenses of his sunglasses, and you felt your face begin to prickle with warmth. “It is my most sacred duty to train you in the ways of summer campage young padawan, for I am the most esteemed Hermity master.”

“Oh… no,” you muttered, despite the way your mouth curled at the edges. You shared a look with Doc, finding that the humor in his eyes matched your own.

Ren clenched his fist, monologuing like an actor playing Shakespeare. “You must not fall prey to the tricks of the dark side, my padawan! They don’t even have any good cookies, only oatmeal raisin. If you do, our summer will be doomed, and you will be known as… uncool.”

The both of you just stared at each other for a long, intense moment. Then, you broke out into laughter.

“Damn,” you half-sighed, half-gasped, stepping carefully out of his grip as you fought back more giggles. “That was- that was dramatic.”

Ren beamed, stooping into a stage bow. “Thank you, thank you.”

Hypno’s voice brought you back into reality, the finality of his words clueing you in to the fact that you should probably get back on track right about now.

“Remember everybody,” He said, his tone losing some joviality in favor of becoming more stern. “Never point a loaded bow towards anything you don’t want to shoot, even as a joke. These arrows aren’t sharpened, but they can take someone’s eye out if you aren’t being careful. Okay?”

Your eyebrow twitched. This was why you’d had that mini-pep talk with your cabin.

Which, speaking of your cabin… you were surprised how well they actually did. After Hypno had divided the Pandas and the Coyotes into smaller groups, he allowed them to start cycling through and testing their aim against the many weathered targets that had been set up along the range. 

From where you were watching, you were able to see arrow after arrow sink into the inner ring and sometimes even clip the bullseye, a prideful smile playing across your lips. You supposed that all that energy they had gave them an edge over the Pandas, although, when you really studied the group, you conceded that age probably played a factor too.

Doc and Ren went as well- their figures sliding easily into their stances. With the three arrows allotted, Ren got a grand score of 14, while Doc got 18. They both grinned at you as they passed, and you teased them for showing off.

What you weren’t expecting, though, were the little hands that pulled you towards the line, the twin faces of Cassidy and Christopher begging you to try your hand at archery. It was embarrassingly easy for you to give into their puppy-dog eyes, allowing them to strap an arm guard onto you and thrust a bow into your hands

You weren’t prepared for the onslaught of nerves as you stood alone, an arrow held loosely between your fingers, deeply regretting not paying more attention to Hypno’s presentation. Wracking your brain, you tried for the best facsimile of the stance you had seen the children take. Planting your feet firmly in the dirt, you faced the range with a stubborn set to your expression.

Warmth at your back was the only thing that stopped you from firing, and it was a miracle that you didn’t bash your head into Doc’s as he came up from behind you. “You’re doing it wrong. Let me help.”

Grimacing slightly, because what was it with these men and their obsession with scaring you, you still jolted slightly when his hands wrapped around your wrists. His grip was firm but gentle, callouses scraping against your skin, and it took you a moment to realize he had been adjusting your grip on the bow.

“If you do it like that you’re going to hurt yourself,” he muttered, breath brushing against the shell of your ear, and okay- he was way, way too close. You could feel his voice rumbling through his chest and into you as he spoke, goosebumps following in its wake.

What the hell? Is this allowed?

You were pretty sure your eyes were going to pop out of your skull. Doc, the same Doc you had literally met ten minutes ago, had entire chest was now pressed against your back so he could reach your arms. His entire very, very muscular chest.

“Doc-” you started, turning your head to look at his face, but cut yourself off when you realized that your nose was almost brushing his cheek. He hummed, meeting your gaze with a dark gleam in his eye.

You grumbled, recovering quickly. “I don’t need your help, thank you very much. I can score just fine- better than you, actually.”

“Oh?” He quirked a brow, stepping away and jerking his chin towards you. “Then let me see what you can do.”

Breaking away from his gaze and pointedly ignoring the shiver that went through you at the challenge, you fixed your sights firmly on the nearest target. Nocking your bow, it was dead silent as you made your first shot. There was a whistle as the arrow screamed through the air, cutting off with a heavy thunk as it landed right in the innermost blue ring.

You drew again, not letting yourself falter as Hypno called out the score. “6!”

Another breath, keeping your back straight and your knees slightly bent, you fired once more. Another thunk as your arrow sunk into red fabric.

“7!”

This was it. You inhaled sharply, steeling your nerves. Let the last arrow fly, straight and true, until it sunk into thick fabric- obliterating a black dot the size of a pea.

Bullseye.

Amidst the screaming of the Coyotes, Ren’s exuberant cheers, and Hypno’s startled laughing, you locked eyes with Doc again. His brows were raised, mouth slightly parted, and the sensation of victory bubbled through your veins. You didn’t have to hear Hypno’s call for you to know that you had won.

“How’s that for a first try?” you grinned, a little bit feral, a little bit free. Doc shook his head, muttering something in German that sounded a lot like a curse under his breath.

 “You are going to be the death of me, liebste.”

https://forms.gle/gWGgnC1SYQvjxURs6 (Response collection ends at 8:00 AM on 6/18!

@bookmark-anon @shifted-dreams @peanut-is-freed @sina-the-idiot @itsonlydana @redactedsouls @shjdriyy​ @demi-writes-fics​ @massivewaffle

[holdharmonysacred]

That last post got completely incoherent because it’s entirely off the cuff but like. The problem is that FE3H keeps getting cold feet when it comes to actually being morally gray. Going back to the Heroes’ Relics example, the reveal that the heroes’ relics are made from the desecrated bones of genocide victims should force the player into a genuine karma-inducing moral choice - does the player keep using the Heroes’ Relics, relying on the cursed strength they provide to win the war at the cost of knowingly perpetuating the worst of the continent of Fodlan’s sins? Or does the player go “Jesus christ, we are not going to keep doing this”, give up the Heroes’ Relics and lay them to rest, and continue the game with normal weaponry, sacrificing the strength advantage for the sake of doing what’s right? It’s an uncomfortable question to wrangle, and it reeks of the worst edgy Morality Meter nonsense, but I guarantee you that the game would be infinitely better if it actually did try to wrangle it instead of shoving it under a rug.

Which makes it fucked when the game does shove it under a rug, because even though they’re committed to this backstory because Gotta Subvert Judgral’s Holy Blood Mechanic For Edge Points, they refuse to actually frame the conflict as the “Crests bad because they’re a crime against the dragon people” VS “Crests bad because dragons icky” fight that they’ve actually written. Because they cast the Mascot Waifu as the primary advocate for “Crests bad because dragons icky”, and god forbid they make the Mascot Waifu a villain for her stance! So they turn the argument into a weird strawman of “Crests bad because classism bad” VS “Uhhhhh we got nothing” when like???? You’re just gonna ignore the reveal about what Crests are??? The reveal that you, the writers, wrote????? Hello????? And it sucks ass. FE3H needs writers who aren’t cowardly and craven like its actual writers are, it’d still be an uncomfortable mess but at least it wouldn’t be this uncomfortable mess.

[nostuntmanneeded]

TL;DR - Stop downplaying and trivializing racism and cultural appropriation. You are in no position to select a particular aspect from the culture of a highly oppressed group for your convenience and entertainment if you are actively complicit to all the atrocities being inflicted upon them

I'm about to go on a full blast rant because I've been seeing people the whole "fuss" about the cultural appropriation "claims'' about her are starting to get overkill, obviously not understanding the term in its fullest sense and the gravity of it and I swear to God if I see one more of those comments , I will lose it so let me break it down for y'all so please have a sit and let's talk about supremacism :)

Most people's issue with her is not because they're "jealous", it's the fact that she actively participated in a couple of parties that heavily patronizes cultural appropriation. What the fuck is an Asian Night? You host movie nights, game nights and date nights not designated nights for you to see a culture as a mere form of aesthetic. Just over the duration of this pandemic alone, thousands of Asians had painfully suffered because of racial supremacists, you don't get to make use of Asian culture for your aesthetic and for the entertainment of your tone deaf and privileged asses all while treating Asians with so much inferiority and not seeming remotely bothered by the bigotry and violence they are putting up with. You don't get to make use of the culture they spent centuries protecting and sanctifying, the very same culture they gruelly fought for from Western imperialists like where you came from. It's as simple as that and this also goes for the people who still insist that "it's just a kimono". It's not. Asian culture is a culture, a well respected and sanctified culture, not a fashion statement, not a party theme and not a subject for non-Asians' stereotypical and tasteless jokes.

Don't even get me started with the Native American themed party, that one speaks for itself and not only did they mindlessly utilize the culture of a highly oppressed group, they also desecrated it by doing the Native American war cry, the same war cry non -indigenous peoples use as one of their many ways to mock IPs and that pisses natives off as aside from the fact that it's demeaning, it's a complete misrepresentation of a traditional and honored practice. As if that wasn't enough, they also wore traditional Native American war bonnets, keep in mind that not even every tribe members gets to wear those, as they symbolize bravery and honor and is only to be worn by the most powerful and honorable members of the tribe and if you are to wear them, you are required to ask permission from the tribal leader and not just any member of the tribe because that's how sacred it is. The idea of the party was already so wrong in itself, up to this day Native Americans are being forced to live through systemic racism, genocide and colonialism among other things and this has been going on for decades and yet we still haven't been able to put a stop to this. You don't get to take a certain aspect of their culture for your own entertainment and mock it while you remain here standing by, complicit to all these atrocities. You only see them as mascots and aesthetically pleasing trend items, not tyrannized human beings who are actively being marginalized by society and are in dire need of helping hands and voices to speak for them.

'They probably didn't know about it' is not an excuse, this is not news as like I said, this has been going on for decades. The fact that you're purely ignorant of this, especially considering that you are fully capable of having access to good and advanced education and other platforms that can provide you millions of information, says a lot about you. I'm from a different continent as well, I live in a third world country with a poor education system but I knew about this since elementary. You simply refuse to look at the ugly parts of the world that don't affect you just so you can continue living in your own privileged bubble. It also just further proves that they are in fact, cultural appropriators because let me just remind you what the difference between Cultural Appropriation and Cultural Appreciation is. Cultural Appreciation is when you take time to learn and understand a particular culture in order to extend your knowledge and perspective as regards the culture while Cultural Appropriation is taking an aspect of a culture that is not yours and using it for your own convenience and personal interest. Why the hell would you host a themed party using a culture that you don't even understand?

Preach, anon!

We had a big lesson on this in one of my media classes and I remember using Alejandra as a specific example of cultural appropriation.

Alejandra has clearly done things that have offended communities and cultures. It's one thing to learn about the culture and participating in events in order to learn, but it's another thing to have themed parties and using the culture as an aesthetic for entertainment.

The ignorance Alejandra has is uncanny. It's practically common sense at this point to be aware of appropriating culture. A grown woman who wants to be famous should know better.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 04 (second part)

(Masterpost) (Episode 04, first part) (Episode 05, first part)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes

Continued from the first half of this very long post! 

Lets Go! Gusu

Wen Qing is lovingly exploring the magical wards of Gusu. She tries a little digital penetration on the ward at the waterfall, but gets the hard nope.

Note: Here at Canary3d we don’t ship Wen Qing with any cultivator ladies because we’re too busy shipping her with modern-day infosec-pro ladies, if you get what I’m saying and/or have read my bio.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian is fishing with Nie Huaisang, using the method of sneaking up and grabbing fish with his bare hands. This actually works, because he is good at literally everything.  His “I’ll be the prodigy” speech to Lan Xichen, isn’t actually arrogant. 

Aw, Look at Xiao Zhan pretending this fish isn’t already dead.

Nosy Parker Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian goes to chat up Wen Qing and none of his crap works on her.

If I want to admire a pretty face I’ll go look in the mirror

His interactions with Wen Qing help to mature Wei Wuxian quite a bit over the months and years. Initially she’s a mystery to him, and he wants her attention and esteem. And can’t get either.

Look how stunned he is to encounter a boundary when she won’t let him touch her needle. “Wards are made to be broken” but she’s not going to let him past any of hers. 

Jiang Cheng, Insecurest Boi

Oh you beautiful sad angry boy. 

(More after the cut!)

Jiang Cheng is angrily waving the laundry around practicing his angry sword moves without a sparring partner, which is noteworthy partly because it shows how dedicated he is, but also because it shows how much he depends on Wei Wuxian for social interaction and cultivation practice. There must be 40 or 50 kids he could go practice with, but he’s by himself.

Camera Operator: Why you gotta take it out on me?

When he bitches to Yanli about his Dad preferring Wei Wuxian, she gaslights him.

Yanli is so gentle and kind, and she’s been the real mother for both of these boys when she didn’t have to be. But she ain’t perfect.

Yanli found this soup recipe on youtube. The ingredients are: water

Jiang Cheng has such a complex about Wei Wuxian he won't take the fish from him directly. He just looks hungry until Yanli grabs a stick and passes it to him.

Look, Jiang Cheng, we know you have reasons to be upset, but you need to get the fuck over yourself.

Aw, look at Xiao Zhan pretending this fish is cooked/palatable. (note: it is not)

Xiao Zhan deserves multiple awards for this performance. With bonus points for gratuitously eye-fucking Wang Zhoucheng into next week.

Wang Zhuocheng is an amazing actor who plays an incredible range of emotions, but selling the “delicious fish” lie exceeds his abilities. Look how he steels himself before he opens his mouth.

Yanli tells Wei Wuxian to be good starting tomorrow, and WWX gives her his patented lying-motherfucker salute.

This one has 4 fingers, unlike the 3-fingered boy scout salute he gave Lan Wangji on the roof in the previous episode. The extra finger is for extra lying.

Lan Lecture: Goofing off

Wei Wuxian is bored and spends the lecture time goofing off or sleeping like any other smart kid with ADHD.

Eventually he draws a bunny while Nie Huasang tosses him a nut wrapped in paper and he eats it. It’s the same kind of nut he eats at the beginning of his second life, when he remarks that they tasted better 16 years ago.

Don’t mind me, just putting Nie-Xiong’s nuts in my mouth

It’s cute how WWX and NHS are so vaguely gay for each other without bothering to be seriously gay for each other.

Several of the rules that are read out during this part of the lecture are things that Wei Wuxian is doing during this part of the lecture, or will become known for doing in the near future.

sitting improperly

causing noise

teasing others

ignoring others and being undisciplined

borrowing money

being late

Lan Lecture: Showing off

The question & answer part of the lecture arrives, which is when Wei Wuxian gets to show off his gifts. 

He is that classic kid who already knows the essence of the material, does not need stuff explained, and is super bored at rote learning.

Lan Qiren makes Lan Wangji show off his skills to the whole class, which would guarantee an after-school ass kicking for the teacher's pet except that LWJ is basically the most aggressive person in the entire Lan clan (thanks Mom for those "I'm going to kill you now" genes!) and is unbeatable. 

Lan Lecture: Going off

Next, Wei Wuxian introduces an idea for sustainable energy.

He starts off challenging Lan Qiren's hypothetical scenario, and as Lan Qiren draws breath to answer him, Lan Wangji starts speaking. LWJ has been listening very carefully and is speaking out of turn instead of letting the master speak, which is...probably not how he usually conducts himself?

From Wei Wuxian’s perspective, this is just the run-up to his next outrageous suggestion, but for Lan Wangji, this has to be an enormous moment. This boy who is unexpectedly a good sparring partner with swords and words is also an intellectual sparring partner - someone who can give Lan Wangji an actual chance to debate something.  

Wei Wuxian’s answer "it's such a waste" is directed to Lan Wangji, not to the class as a whole. Lan Wangji, Gusu’s loneliest boy, is suddenly in a relationship with an equal. The relationship is adversarial, but it's EQUAL.

Wei Wuxian carries on explaining his idea: How about digging up and desecrating corpses? No no no Not for fun, but in order to have massive, unthinkable power? 

Seems like a waste to just leave the dead to their rest when you could be using them for something. 

Lan Qiren: I can see we are going to have to kill you eventually, aren't we

Jiang Cheng: oh my god Wei Wuxian you can't just ask about decapitating corpses

Jiang Yanli: perhaps my unwavering loyalty to Dad's methods with my baby brother should be reexamined

Nie Huasang: my dude, conceal don’t feel, seriously

Lan Wangji: hmmm he’s not exactly wrong

Lan Wangji was a LOT more horrified at Wei Wuxian sticking a note on Lan Qiren’s ass than he is at this whole demonic cultivation thing. Lan Wangji is really really attracted to Wei Wuxian’s talent and intelligence, even when it's completely heterodox. You can see it much later when Wen Ning gets his personality back; Lan Wangji is impressed and congratulatory, unlike literally everyone else in the cultivation world.

Punishment

When Wei Wuxian gets sent to copy a chapter 1000 times, Jiang Cheng and Yanli are both horrified, whereas Wei Wuxian’s reaction is totally chill. 

Basically he knows that he has reached the part of the classroom discussion where he is inevitably sent for punishment, because he is totally used to that being how things go in his education.

Similarly, kneeling doesn't bother him because Madame Yu made him kneel for everything.  Wei Wuxian is the mascot for too-smart bored kids everywhere.

On his way out, Wei Wuxian hits Lan Wangji with this troubled look of yearning. In this moment where Wei Wuxian is sparking Lan Wangji’s interest and tentatively seeking a path toward Lan Wangji’s heart, he is also mapping out the unorthodox path he will follow away from him as they grow up.  

Lan Qiren in his rage does the dumbest and, frankly, most irresponsible thing the parent of a teenager can do in this situation; he sends Lan Wangji to supervise Wei Wuxian’s punishment. 

"This terrible WWX is a one-man bad crowd. Let me send my deeply conflicted, stubborn, intensely private, teetotling, abstinent and abstemious newphew to spend several days in a private location with him, being bored together."

Lan Wangji responds to this order with 100% calmness, not even an eyebrow furrow.

I'm sure no cussing, pornography, romantic portraits, flirty ink grinding, or changes in forms of address will happen.

Lan Lecture: Blowing off

Wei Wuxian meanwhile has fucked off to go make more friends, and is hanging out with Wen Ning. Wen Ning demonstrates his archery by hitting the worlds slowest falling rock in midair and Wei Wuxian earnestly praises him and offers to trade skill pointers.

I love how sweet and kind WWX is to this younger kid who is obviously a little different.

When Wen Qing shows up, Wei Wuxian takes another opportunity to get into her business, but he skips the charm this time. He also 100% correctly deduces what she is up to.

Swords by the Waterfall

Then comes another sexy sword fight as Lan Wangji sneaks up on Wei Wuxian and almost get his face sliced open as a reward.

Now that the swords are out it’s time for...homework, sigh. Summer school is the worst.

Outro

Writing Prompt: Lan Xichen’s letter to Nie Mingjue after meeting Meng Yao

Episode 05 Restless Rewatch is over here!

[yorunokatana]

So I know I AFK’ed a long time from Tumblr because Genshin Impact took over my life

And holy shit a lot of things happened.

I FUCKING FINALLY KILLED THE OCEANID YEEHAAAAAA!!!!!

Harassing that oversized fish at least twice a day to hoard materials for Barbara before it grows too strong after I ascend my WR

ZHONGLI DESECRATING HIS OWN FAKE CORPSE BECAUSE I’M A LITTLE SHIT LIKE THAT SUE ME

Getting Ningguang on my last 10x pull on the Zhongli banner

Realising I have to start harassing a Geo cube a lot because now I have 3 Geo characters (Zhongli, Ningguang, Noelle) to ascend

Me: this is fine

FINALLY KILLED THE GODDAMN OVERSIZED DOG (read: Lvl 50 Andrius) WITH A LVL 60 TEAM YEEE HAAAAAAAA

(No I did not get the polearm prototype for crafting another Crescent Pike)

(DAMMIT)

Getting Bennett on a normal banner 10x pull from all the free Fates Mihoyo gave us

Realising that OH SHIT DRAGONSPINE I NEED A PYRO TEAM TO SURVIVE

REALISING THAT BOTH XIANGLING AND BENNETT ARE LVL 1

REALISING THAT I HAVE TO HARRASS AN OVERSIZED FLOWER FOR PYRO ASCENSION MATERIALS

AND ALSO THE GEO CUBE

AND LET’S NOT FORGET THE GIANT FISH

Me: THIS IS NOT OKAY

crying in never enough resin

“In terms of Mora, we have no Mora.”

^Me after leveling up Xiangling and Bennett enough for them to not immediately die in battle in Dragonspine

Also THE EVENT IS SO FUN HOLY SHIT

^Me speedrunning all the trials to gain all the materials to buy out the entire event shop in one single afternoon

Also me: BENNY BABIE I DON’T CARE WHAT PEOPLE SAY ABOUT YOUR BAD LUCK YOU ARE MY LUCKY CHARM MY GOOD LUCK MASCOT MY SAFETY TALISMAN THANK YOU FOR KEEPING EVERYONE ALIVE IN DRAGONSPINE YOU NOW HAVE A PERMANENT PLACE ON MY DEFAULT TEAM RIGHT NEXT TO YOUR IDOL BARBARA

NO XINYAN DON’T KILL ME YOU’RE STILL ON THE OCEANID TEAM

Also HOLY SHIT THE ARCHON QUEST IS ASDKFAHSGDFJKASF

HAIL NINGGUANG THE QUEEN

MADAM PING PLEASE COME ONTO MY TEAM I’LL BE YOUR SUGAR MOMMY

PLEASE I NEED YOUR BUFF

(Unpopular opinion maybe but Osial’s heads are kinda cute......?)

Finishing all the available main and side quests while waiting for the final stage of the event and finally got around ascending my WR out of boredom

(Stuck at AR 35 for almost a month because I CAN FINALLY KILL THAT GIANT FISH I’M GONNA BULLY IT WHILE IT’S WEAKER THAN ME YOU CAN’T STOP ME)

Realising that I stored up enough EXP to jump from AR 35 all the way to AR 41 immediately after I killed the Electro Hypostasis in the domain

REALISING THAT I SKIPPED WORLD RANK 4 ENTIRELY

NOW THE GODDAMN FISH IS LVL 73 WITHOUT GOING THROUGH LVL 60+

Me: CRYING IN OCEANID TRAUMA

Also me: SUDDEN HORRIFYING REALISATION THAT THE ENEMIES FOR THE FINAL STAGE OF THE EVENT IS GOING TO BE SO OP COMPARED TO MY CURRENT TEAM OH SHIT I’M FUCKED

Me: CRYING IN LVL 50 BENNETT AND XIANGLING AND LVL 60 XINGYAN

EVEN ZHONGLI IS JUST LVL 68 OH NO

[kylejsugarman]

opinion on the 3d movies? they’re the only aatc content i’ve ever seen bc i’m a 2000s baby 😔

so my feelings on the live action/cgi movies are complex because like. that first movie is how i discovered aatc, i saw that movie and just fell in love with the chipmunks and counted down the days until the squeakquel came out because i was so excited to see the chipettes on the big screen. as a young kid, i really loved those movies and they’re absolutely the reason that i love alvin and the chipmunks so much today

but the movies Themselves......like okay i completely understand the decision to make the chipmunks like actual chipmunks, this was during the massive influx of live action/cgi movies where “x cartoon character enters the REAL world” so that isn’t a problem. their designs aren’t perfect (their mouths creep me out a little??) and i don’t like how they translated the chipettes to 3D but the designs are not a huge problem, they did a fine job with tweaking the models so that each chipmunk has unique facial features/fur markings that reflect their character

the real problem is just the characterization. im not going to penalize the movies for being immature because like they are aimed at kids and im someone who has a huge aversion to toilet humor/immature humor so i can't judge impartially on that frontier and there’s at least one or two legitimately funny jokes in each movie. jason lee is just an awful dave: he comes off SO uninvested and annoyed in every scene. the movie shows him doing fatherly things like helping the boys decorate for christmas and making them dinner, but this is always accompanied by like a visible reluctance and irritation that is so not dave. he doesn’t even legally adopt them until the FOURTH movie (which, granted, is a sweet scene but seems so odd to do after four whole movies and dave still acting like he doesn’t care that much about them). in every other iteration, dave has no hesitations about taking in the chipmunks and being their father, even when they drive him crazy. its so hard to buy that live action dave actually cares about the chipmunks when every scene tells us otherwise

as for the chipmunks and chipettes themselves....the chipettes are given so little depth, the fact that their most-remembered scene is just them mooning over the chipmunks and talking about how cute they are speaks volumes. i mean they were basically written out of the fourth movie. its obvious the writers wanted to include the chipettes to appeal to female demographics and please fans who like them, then realized they had no use for them and gave them only the most basic of character traits and arcs. its nice that jeanette got a little focus in the third one, but her story was literally built entirely around simon’s story which again. speaks volumes that the chipettes are basically here to fill dead air and serve the chipmunks

as for the chipmunks themselves, i don’t have like a huge problem?? their characterization is a little uneven because they have to still be able to like do funny modern pop songs and crazy things for the trailers. it drives me crazy that they get sent to high school in the second movie when they are so clearly written to be elementary school-aged kids just like the previous iterations. theodore’s the biggest victim of personality generalization, especially in the sequels where he basically exists to be The Baby of the family (him being the heart of thee brothers is actually depicted quite nicely in the first one). simon’s sarcasm is written pretty well, as is his responsible nature, but you lose some of his protective instincts and for some reason a lot of his true intellect?? alvin basically exists to be the franchise mascot, so he doesn’t get to develop in like any way and is always crazy, scheming alvin without much nuance (although they try to have some depth to his character in the third movie, only to immediately backtrack on it and reset the status quo). 

i won’t act like aatc is this sacred property that the cgi movies desecrated with childish, gross-out humor that isn’t characteristic of the franchise at all because again, these are movies for kids made during an era where that kind of base-level immaturity was en vogue. but i do think its a shame that they are so formulaic in terms of plot and sacrifice so much character in service of pop songs and Crazy set pieces (also i don’t like the weird sexualization of the chipettes through their single ladies choreography, the “whip my tail” sequence, just a whole lot of their choreography and actions) and of all the aatc iterations, they’re definitely my least favorite and i think their popularity set back the direction of the franchise 

[tohbi-isi]

Preventing Movements from Being Overlooked in the Age of Activism

Contemporary social movements have a higher chance of fading into the background now more than ever. Benjamin Sáenz, a professor at the University of Texas at El Paso, says “There is no [Chicano] movement per se. That doesn’t mean there is nothing happening” (Guerrero, 61). This holds true for many modern-day movements where people have the Internet to aid in spreading information faster than traditional methods. It’s easy to be forgotten when activists can be branded far-left SJWs (social justice warriors) as a tactic to ignore the message. The racists that many of today’s movements are fighting against can have entire pages taken down after false reports of hate speech. In a country founded on the beliefs of the white, Christian majority we often see the issues that stick are what these people are in direct opposition with – black vs white, gay vs straight, rich vs poor, Christian vs savage. Movements like Black Lives Matter see huge success because they are right – there’s an issue that needs to be addressed – but also because this country thrives on the continued white against black narrative that raises white inhabitants higher on their pedestals. While all social movements of the future have to worry about whether the public regards their goals as positive or negative, it is especially the movements of smaller groups that are vulnerable to being left behind. In addition to the fading of news that inevitably happens with a 24-hour global news cycle, active erasure now occurs with a few clicks.

Because I am not Black, Mexican, or Asian it isn’t my place to speak on the movements of those groups beyond observations of them. I can, however, speak to the many movements of my people. Okla Chahta ohoyo hapia hoke. I am a proud woman from the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. All through school I had teachers ask me if I knew that Native Americans made up just 1-2% of the entire United States population. It was hurtful to always be stared at as if I belonged in some sort of museum, and pushed me to look deeper into the needs of Indian Country as a whole. Issues my tribe doesn’t face, others do; and where there is trouble, there is generally a movement to change the cause for a better outcome. Since the very first colony settled on these lands in 1492, Indigenous peoples have been at risk for becoming one of these aforementioned forgotten groups.

Diminishing the power of those who make up today’s 566+ federally recognized tribes was the goal from day one and that’s obvious when you look at our numbers in the broad population. Even so, this has not stopped the fires burning among us. Every day we fight for a different facet of the erasure and oppression we face: Standing Rock, Bears Ears, Mauna Kea, Native mascots, tribal sovereignty, missing and murdered Indigenous women. The goal is to start these movements and prevent them from disappearing before anything can be accomplished. But how can we ensure that when even movements like that of Colin Kaepernick – who had the attention and support of millions of football fans – can be warped and forced out of the spotlight?

Journalist Jacqueline Keeler, of Navajo and Dakota decent, spoke briefly with me on the issue of staying relevant and being heard. Much of her beliefs appear to lie in the idea that our strength manifests in numbers.

I think that it’s not going to be easy and this is not the natural course of things. The exertion of sovereignty [and] something which I really advocate for: an Indigenous tribal government. I think that we need to organize politically because we’re talking about political rights, you know? Our safety, our security, our identity is only going to be protected politically. All of this is permeable as long as we are not politically strong, so we need to strengthen ourselves politically. Obviously we are talking about several hundred different nations, but we are stronger together and we have more at stake in common than we do apart.

Strengthening ourselves politically is an important idea to consider because tribal sovereignty is already ignored in day to day life. We need leaders who aren’t afraid to assert their power, and from there we need to work together to get our best into the U.S. government. Politics are at a turning point where things will either improve for those experiencing injustice or history will repeat itself.

National headlines detailing Standing Rock Reservation and the protection of sacred sites that were desecrated for the Dakota Access Pipeline proves that this idea of strength in unification is on the right track. Standing Rock is shared by Yanktonai Dakota, Hunkpapa Lakota, and Sihasapa Lakota. People from these tribes united and rallied for help in protecting their lands and burial grounds that were being threatened. Tribe after tribe sent letters of support and representatives to aid in the work that was happening up north. I sent packages of supplies to the very first wave of protectors in April 2016 while urging my tribal leaders to pen their support and send help. I observed Linda Black Elk, of the Standing Rock Sioux, use her background in Ethnobotany as an EMT for the protectors. I watched as needed roles were filled and veterans showed up to stand on the front lines following Trump’s executive order that reversed Obama’s protections. Although the pipeline has been completed, the events at Standing Rock are an inspiring example of strength in numbers. If we can come together and turn the public’s attention to the injustices we face, we can come together and work from inside the corrupt system that holds us down.

A Lakota youth advocate, Megan Red Shirt-Shaw, has worked admissions at multiple universities and is using her experience to work on a project designed to connect Natives pursuing their Ph.D. with mentors in their desired field. This came to mind when reading about Sáenz and Guerrero discussing how “Many of the young leaders of yesterday went to school and are now our doctors, lawyers, educators, and writers” (Guerrero, 61). If wielding our collective power to change societal tradition is key to the social movements of the future, avenues to and participation in academia is necessary. Education will be the foot in the door for minorities in politics; without which nothing will change about the lack of diversity in our representatives. The statistics for politicians in the United States proves that the diversity of the country is not reflected. In 2015 I read a Washington Post article titled “The new Congress is 80 percent white, 80 percent male and 92 percent Christian” that went on to detail the exact numbers of the 114th Congress. This country is not in a crisis where our population of women is severely lacking in numbers, so why is it that our government doesn’t more accurately reflect the diversity of the current population? Activism taking center stage in conversations across these lands means more youth are likely to actively pursue higher education and get involved in politics. As these numbers rise there is higher potential for the government to accurately represent this nation’s inhabitants.

By working together toward the ultimate power of representation we will eventually be able to reinvent the foundation of this country without a radical anarchy. And that’s how it should be done – slowly and with enough thought that everyone can benefit – otherwise we run the risk of someone being left out or these lands being damaged further. “Critics will rightly contend that co-management is not an ideal status for tribes. We are indigenous to the land and by right should have complete authority. But the political reality is that we don’t” (Curley, 72). I don’t believe there is a need to speak of something as severe as overthrowing and abolishing the government while minorities are at such a clear disadvantage. Though a nice fantasy to dwell in, a slow trickle into spaces that don’t currently have their doors open to us will be much easier.

While it is less than ideal to have to work so much harder than those currently in power just for the chance to enter their stadium, it’s worth it when we look at the cause. The root of any social movement examined corresponds with lack of power and that’s why we must focus on taking back said power and distributing it where deserved. Without that we will only see movements grow silent and fade out like the Chicano movement and the water protectors at Standing Rock. Movements visible to those who are involved, but otherwise unseen. We can choose to let the media pit us against other movements, break us from the inside, and turn onlookers against us or we can cease to feed that monster and focus on feeding ourselves. The majority will look away when comfortable and it is in those moments that we can choose to stay down where they want us or build up.

Works Cited Bump, Phillip. “The New Congress is 80 Percent White, 80 Percent Male, and 92 Percent Christian.” Washington Post. 5 January 2017. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the- fix/wp/2015/01/05/the-new-congress-is-80-percent-white-80-percent-male-and-92- percent-christian. January 2017.

Curley, Andrew. “Some Thoughts on a Long-Term Strategy for Bears Ears.” In Edge of Morning: Native Voices Speak for the Bears Ears, (pp. 66-73). Jacqueline Keeler. Salt Lake City, Utah: Torrey House Press. May 2017.

Guerrero, Salvador. “The Chicano Movement – Alive and Evolving.” In English One Reader, (pp. 61-62). Charles Brown. (Original work published 2011)

PROMPT: to be added. Blog & posts under construction/revision.

[cecilspeaks]

121 - A Story of Love and Horror, Part 1: “Barks”

The password is “mudwomb”. The username is “mudwomb”. The website is “mudwomb”. Where did the rest of the Internet go? Welcome to Night Vale.

I would like to tell you a story. It is a difficult story and I don’t know what it means, but it seems important to me to tell you. It is about two people and a terrible, impossible decision that they found themselves having to make. It concerns Frances Donaldson and Nazr al-Mujaheed.

But first, the community calendar. 

This Tuesday evening the Night Vale Football Boosters Club will hold their meeting at the Applebee’s that we’re all pretty sure was a Chili’s just yesterday, but now is an Applebee’s, and all records show it has always been an Applebee’s even though we remember it as a Chili’s. The subject of this week’s meeting will be the timing of football games, which all members agree are too long. “Hey, I like football as much as the next guy,” said Hannah Gutierrez, “but a whole sixty minutes of play? Plus all the breaks and starting and stopping? We're busy people. Football should take less time.” The Booster Club will be working on their new proposal to get games done in a tight 15, so everyone can get home to watch the newest episode of Stop Chef, in which a group of contestants compete to prevent a chef from cooking.

Wednesday is Love Day at Dark Owl Records. Owner Michelle Nguyen explained that after recent love-focused events, she wanted everyone to understand that love is a laughable concept. And she wanted to highlight its absurdity by selling albums with songs that ruthlessly mock love using subtle irony, like “I Will Always Love You” and “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”. My former radio intern Maureen, who was in the store too and was holding hands with Michelle, agreed that love is stupid, and funny. And fun and ridiculous, and all-encompassing and revitalizing. Then Michelle said, “What?” And Maureen said, “What?” And then they both got embarrassed and asked me to leave.

Thursday is the Safety Parade, which the Sheriff’s Secret Police hold each year in order to highlight safety. Of course, no one is allowed to march in or attend the parade for their own safety. As Secret Police Mascot, Barks Ennui, always says: “Woof woof! The biggest danger to you – is you! Woof woof.”

Friday is a meeting at town hall to discuss the problem of entrances to other universes, and the question of whether all of us even ended up in the right universe after that whole recent mixup. There will be light snacks as well as blood tests and surprise interrogations about our version of history, in order to trip up intruders from parallel universes. Attendance is mandatory.

This Saturday and Sunday, the Brown Stone Spire will be offering powerful gifts in exchange for great sacrifices. The larger the sacrifice, the more powerful the gift. For instance, if you give it a DVD you got for Christmas five years ago and have never even taken out of its shrink wrap, it’ll give you a well-worn copy of “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets” that is missing its cover. But if you give it an offering of your own blood and fervent chanting, the copy of “Chamber of Secrets” it gives you will have an intact cover.

And finally, this Monday, Night Vale cinemas will be hosting a showing of that classic comedy caper, “The Grift of the Magi”, in which two con artists run scams in order to get one another Christmas gifts, only to find that they have accidentally each stolen the money from the other.

And now, a story of love – and horror.

Frances Donaldson runs the Antiques Mall in Old Time Night Vale. Long before she took on that job though, she developed an interest in time. As a child, she would stand still and consider that while she had not moved at all in space, something had changed. That she had grown just slightly older, her hair just slightly longer, and this without being able to see the movement at all. She liked to lie in bed and, through her window, watch planes pass very high in the sky. She liked to think about where they had taken off and where they might land. Objects fascinated her, because they too moved through time, on a different trajectory than her. Her bedroom lamp had existed, looking more or less like it was now, since before she was born, and could well exist after she had died. It wasn’t even aware, was too unable to move, and yet it joined her in this mad hurdle through time.

She found this terrifying, and she found this fascinating. And she found this delightful and she wanted it to stop. And she hoped it never stopped, and she felt all of these feelings equally and at once, and without contradiction. What use was there in worrying if all of what she felt about time did not exactly add up? She was too busy feeling it to consider what it meant. And so, of course, she became fascinated with antiques. These objects washed up from the crooked tides of time.

Nazr al-Mujaheed coaches the Night Vale High School football team. Go Scorpions. And this was almost the entirety of his world. He thought about football when he woke up, he thought about it on the drive to work. Of course he thought about it when he ran practices and had meetings with the assistant coaches, and he thought about it at night when he ate take-out dinners on his couch while watching football. This made him happy. And what makes a person happy, if it doesn’t harm another person and doesn’t harm themselves, is OK. Even if it’s not how anyone else would want to live.

But while it made him happy, Nazr was also aware that is more than one kind of happiness. And that perhaps this happiness he found in a life endlessly thinking about football, was less than the happiness he could find in a life with more things in it. This wasn’t about fixing a problem, this was an attempt to improve on a good situation. This was his play for some sort of grace. Other people he knew could provide an outside perspective, and perhaps allow him to be less focused on his work and on the game he coached. And so he decided he would try dating. Without expectations, without a plan, just as a way to see what the world might have for him.

And now, a word from our sponsors.

[masculine ad reader voice] Ford! Our cars are built strong, strong like a rock or a mountain or a bone. In fact, our cars are built out of bones, weird metal bones that were buried in a meteor. What creature did they belong to? How did it live with a skeleton of steel? Are its relatives even now streaking down from the sky, intent on revenging themselves upon the pitiful culture that desecrated their dead and turned them into affordable and reliable pickup trucks? Who knows. We certainly don’t. We barely understand how an engine works. We have one guy who knows, and he builds them all. But in order to protect his job, he won’t show anyone else how to do it. Now that’s smart thinking. Ford: drive weird bones.

There was no great epiphany for Frances that led to her dating life. She had been on the dating app, Void, since it had become available in Night Vale, and had gone on a few casual Void dates. It was not an important part of her life, because it didn’t seem likely to ever lead to anything more. But the occasional company was nice. A night with someone, and then back to her life as it was, which was a life she liked. In this way, her dating was related to her obsession with time. Her bed was always the same bed, and sometimes there was another person in it. And mostly only her. She floated upon that bed as it moved through time. Passengers on and off, and she alone voyaging onward.

And then, Nazr messaged her on Void and they started chatting. For his part, he was unsure of how to date, it having been some time since he had done and certainly before dating happened as a series of written communications, rather than awkward hand gestures. So he had messaged a number of women in town, who had seemed to him like someone he might want to spend more time with. He did this without expectation. He had few expectations that did not involve football. He just performed the actions that might lead to new outcomes for him, and three of the women had messaged back. He was, after all, not a bad looking man, handsome even, although it had been a long time since anyone had told him that. And so it would not have occurred to him that he was handsome, and this in many ways made him even more handsome.

Frances and he agreed to meet for lunch near the high school. This was close enough to her antique store that she could walk, and so the whole thing didn’t feel to either of them like much of a commitment of time. “So,” he said, once they had sat down with their food. “So,” she agreed, and for an awful moment it seemed like it would hang there in uncomfortable silence, and a bad date best forgotten. But then he asked about antiques, because he himself had an interest in old football trophies. And he agreed that might seem a bit weird, but the thing was that their designs were often fascinating. Never having been meant to stand up under scrutiny, crudely carved players, hands like dinner rolls, feet disappearing into the base of the trophy. And this turned into a discussion of all the many old items that would never be valuable from the viewpoint of capitalism, but were more interesting than the ones that were valuable. From this, the conversation spread out into her fascination with time. And then time itself, and their childhoods, and how it was hard sometimes to remember that they themselves were adults. And in Nazr’s case, older than his parents ever lived to be.

On returning to work, Nazr started the afternoon football practice as usual. And as usual, threw himself into the rhythm of drills, spells and counter-spells that make up any football skirmish. But he found, for the first time in his life, that he couldn’t make himself fully focus. There was a part of him still thinking about the lunch, about the way her hands had looked tapping on the table. About the way she talked about time as it were not an implacable force, but an old and fallible friend. He had to continually draw himself back intro practice, and the players wondered if he perhaps was sick.

Frances stood at the window of her antique shop watching the planes fly overhead. When a person entered the shop, she would acknowledge them vaguely with a nod, and then acknowledge them vaguely with a nod again when they left. But otherwise, she kept her eyes on the window. Something in her chest felt tight, but also less heavy. She was both scared and happy, and she wasn’t sure why she was either of those. When later they both messaged and decided to go on a second date, an evening date at a nice restaurant, something with a bit more commitment behind it, neither of them connected it directly to the way they felt after their lunch together. But both of them could not contain their impatience, and had messaged that very evening. Both at exactly 10:55 PM.

Let’s have a look at that weather.

["Riches and Wonders" by Eliza Rickman & Jherek Bischoff]

There was a second date. And that night, she went with him back to his house. Then a third date, when they went to her house. Then a few more dates where they sometimes went to one of their houses and sometimes just kissed, wild with the feeling of it. Out in the park lot of whatever restaurant or bar they had met at, before saying good night because they had to work in the morning, and they were adults who sometimes had control of themselves.

This was not one of those nights, though. This was a night that she was in his bed and he was asleep. This was a little over a month after their first date. As she lay sleepy and happy, she watched the TV, which was tinting the darkness a soft fickering blue. It was an old episode of “Friends”, in which Joey rolls limply and slowly, over the course of 21 minutes, across the apartment while out of focus in the background, Phoebe searches desperately through every cabinet and screams. Frances had seen the episode too many times to laugh out loud at, but still it felt comforting to watch, like sitting in a room that she liked. The episode had become a place she could go, rather than a story to follow.

There was a commercial break and a PSA from the Secret Police came on, featuring the adorable cartoon spokesdog, Barks Ennui. He capered about, pointing out all the different ways one could break the law in Night Vale and get sentenced to a forever term in the abandoned mine shaft outside of town. She found herself grinning at his bad puns in the section about reporting on your neighbors: “Traitorous activities can be ruff! Go fetch us their deepest secrets!” And then Barks said her name. His cartoon canine face turned directly to the screen and he said, “Frances.” She didn’t know how to respond. A commercial had never spoken to her, and certainly it had never done what Barks did next, which was to step out of the TV screen in a clumsy flopping movement and then sit up, a two-dimensional flickering cartoon dog standing in the bedroom.

“Frances,” Barks said. “You aren’t supposed to be here. This doesn’t belong to you.” He cocked his animated head, the wall of Nazr’s apartment vaguely visible through him, as though through heavy fog. As his head turned, it sagged in the direction of the ground, stretching and distorting his cartoon puppy face until it was a series of drooping ovals. When he spoke again, his voice sounded stretched too. “You will have to make this right, Frances!” he garbled. [muddled] “You will have to make this right!”

She screamed. Nothing happened. She screamed.

Stay tuned next, just – stay tuned. Next.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Welcome to 2018. The year we finally do it. The year we eat the sun.

[moontouched-moogle]

Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle has to be the most surreal game. The simple fact of it having the Rabbids alone should have made it a dumpster fire, and yet it turned out surprisingly good (great, even), and was quite well-received.

It’s an unholy amalgamation of a horrible hated mascot that represents the desecration of a loved IP and a solid gameplay system that nobody was expecting

[whipplefilter]

Ok; last question for you for now....if you can't do it, that's fine. Just wanted to ask; Can you make a smol one-shot with the four next gens (Danny, Bubba, Chase, Ryan) pranking each other? Kinda like for April fools or somethin'? I've kinda been curious about that and have tried to make one of my own, but it isn't turning out. Maybe you can help me? ~CarsGeek :)

Man, it’s really hard to wrangle four characters (all of whom I haven’t really developed much material for) all at once, but I gave it a shot! 

fyi, this is the semi-sequel to the Star Wars/Ryan Laney ask I just answered~

It’s gotta be Ryan’s trailer. Reverse-alphabetical order ordains it.

“Y'know, I was worried there for a second,” says Chase, as he helps Danny heft a gigantic cardboard box onto Danny’s decklid. “‘cause I thought we were gonna have to do Storm– Like, I forgot that guy actually has a first name 'cause we never–”

“Ay!” Danny yelps. “That’s heavier than I thought it was going to be.”

“You’re telling me,” says Bubba, sniffing. “If heaving that onto you put a dent in my hood, my crew chief’s gonna have my head gasket. You know he’s still mad about me faceplanting into that wall last week!”

“Gogogo,” Chase hisses. “Before he sees us!”

They’re calling it Operation Chick. First prank of the 2018 Piston Cup season. Tensions have been a little high all winter, because during Champion’s Week Chick Hicks aired a scathing special criticizing the Next Gen of Piston Cup racing: All tech, no character. Not like the colorfully brash and dashingly handsome racers of yesteryears, obviously.

Chase thinks Chick’s show is garbage and always has, but he wasn’t expecting the backlash that came with it. Even the reputable RSN shows were picking up the story. The Cup lost a lot of star power with the departure of racers like Cal Weathers, Bobby Swift. Even Ponchy Wipeout–who never had the wins to grant him fame, but apparently had the Twitter presence. And then of course there was Lightning McQueen.

Was Cup racing too clean-cut now? Spec-wise, the racers are more uniform than they’ve ever been. And outside of Storm’s mystique and Cruz’s… overall everything, who were they, really?

So on this day, the morning of the Florida 500, the time had come for them to prove themselves.

The time had come to prank.

“Where’s Cruz?” Bubba whispers. “I thought she was supposed to–”

Cruz pops out from behind Ryan’s trailer. “I did! I got the code from Ryan’s hauler. His name’s Len. He’s super nice, by the way. He told me that– Wait, is that them?” she squeals.

Danny rolls up, having taken the drive over at a sedate pace, so as not to disturb their box.

Because oh yes. It’s them.

Inside the box on Danny’s decklid is an entire gross of Chick’s Picks with Chick Hicks 2017 full-color wall calendars, which Bubba had taken it upon himself to liberate from RSN’s recycling dumpster.

Inside these calendars are 12 high-res studio-quality glossy images of Chick Hicks. In at least one of them, he’s posed with a lion.

And inside Ryan’s trailer they’re about to go. Every surface, ceiling-to-floor. After the race, Ryan’s gonna come home to 100% Chick Hicks.

“Got it!” Cruz exclaims, as the ramp into Ryan’s trailer swings slowly down. It’s dark inside.

Then, as their eyes adjust to the shadows, they notice the posters. The glow-in-the-dark stars. The small models–dozens upon dozens of tiny model spacecraft lining the walls. There’s seven lightsabers mounted on the left wall, and blasters mounted on the right. The partition that separates the garage compartment from the tire storage is painted to look like the Death Star.

“Oh wow,” breathes Chase, whose trailer is painted green inside. The kookiest decoration he has is a bobblehead of Vitoline’s old-school mascot, which is a dancing cup of Vitoline.

They stare for a moment at Ryan’s meticulously decorated trailer. They stare at their box of Chick calendars. And they stare at the trailer. But maybe it’s not even accurate to call it a trailer. No���that thing is a shrine.

To desecrate it would be sacrilege.

No one speaks.

“So…” Danny says eventually. “Storm instead?”

“Storm,” Cruz, Chase, and Bubba agree in unison, and dart off in the direction of Storm’s trailer.