#meanwhile i’m over here feeling ancient & ready for retirement

[liyazaki]

I caught a patron gawking at me before they blurted out, “I’m sorry but- how old are you?”

having been to the inappropriate-personal-questions rodeo many times, I sidestepped with a nonchalant “how old do you think I am?”

them, still looking mildly horrified: “like- 14?” this person seemed genuinely concerned that I should 1) still be in school & 2) that my workplace might be in violation of child labor laws.

dear reader, I’ve been in this field for 17 years & I’m turning 30 fucking 6 in 2ish weeks.

[thedinanshiral]

My personal DA4 wishlist + thoughts

I’ve been teasing this post for a couple of weeks over at Twitter, i’m the worst! But anyway, since game journalism has decided to confirm, once again, that the next Dragon Age game will be set in Tevinter like that’s breaking news, now’s as good a time as ever to write all this down.

Locations: Tevinter, clearly. It’s been pretty much a given since the end of Trespasser in 2015, with that scene where the Inquisitor stabs a map on a table directly on Tevinter as they promise to go after Solas to stop him. But also concept art and several stories from Tevinter Nights heavily imply Antiva, Nevarra, the Anderfells, and maybe Rivain. For those of you who don’t know your Thedosian Geography 101, that’s basically Northern Thedas. And it makes sense, since so far for three games straight we’ve been first stuck in Ferelden, then the coast of the Free Marches, and later the rest of Southern Thedas. We’ve never been North, only heard of it. So in DA4 i’m sure we will finally be able to visit.

Characters: If we’re going to Tevinter, we must meet Dorian again, maybe meet Maevaris Tilani as well (previously only seen in comics), judging from the latest comics series, i’m hoping for Fenris too. And going by the latest teaser trailer, we might see Varric again. As for characters that so far we have no news of, i’d like to see Cole, the Iron Bull, and if by any chance BioWare feels like blessing us with a Hawke/Fenris reunion i might just die happy.  I’d also very much like to see the Inquisitor, but more on that later.

Companions: considering concept art and the latest teaser trailer, plus Tevinter Nights stories and new characters, we have an interesting repertoire of new potential companions. A Tevinter mage, an ancient elf (like a temple guardian) or a dalish elf (like Strife), a Nevarran mortalitasi or spirit, Antivan Crows, Lords of Fortune (new faction, kind of like treasure hunters), Qunari lady, maybe an alchemist or shapeshifter, Grey Wardens (possibly a dwarf), a liberated or escaped slave, a Siccari (Tevinter spies/assassins)..even past agents of the Inquisition could return. 

Plot: We know Solas wants to take down the Veil. We know there’s two archdemons left, and Grey Wardens are regaining some spotlight in concept art lately. We might have to fight on multiple fronts simultaneously and be strategic about it. Solas might even unleash a double Blight just to keep us distracted while he focus on his own goal, who knows. But many other things are happenig in the margins and all over the place. The Qunari Antaam is having a crisis with some of its members supposedly going rogue, the order they’re so proud of is breaking up, and the whole of Northern Thedas is facing an imminent threat of invasion. Tevinter is still dealing with remnants of the Venatori and might soon be dealing with a slaves rebellion and/or a political and social reform (Magisters Dorian and Maeveris have been working wirh the Lucerni, a group aiming to restore and redeem Tevinter). The Antivan Crows -the de facto rulers of Antiva - may be dealing with a succession crisis, as their First Talon, a powerful feared and respected but old lady, might not be around for much longer and seems her chosen heir has died before his time. Meanwhile in the Anderfells nobody’s heard anything from the Grey Wardens’ HQ at Weisshaupt since the end of Inquisition, and as told in the novel Last Flight, the sudden reappearance of griffons may have had something to do with that radio silence. So you see, get ready for another +100 hours long game because BW has plenty of stuff to keep us busy with. But in short, DA4 seems will be about primarily searching, finding, and dealing with Solas. Regardless of what you decided at the Exalted Council in Trespasser, the Inquisition or what’s left of it is most likely the group orchestrating that mission. As it was so clearly stated then, they need new people Solas doesn’t know so he can’t foresee their actions, so it’s possible the DA4 protagonist is a new agent or a third party hired to do what the Inner circle can’t due to their familiarity with Solas in the past. But at the same time -and this is assuming we get to find Solas in this game - i definitely think the Inquisitor could easily show up again. No, losing an arm doens’t mean they’ve retired forever, prosthetics do exist in Thedas, a world where you can combine dwarven craftmanship with enchantments, seriously, i don’t ever want to hear “but they lost an arm” ever again as an excuse to write them out. And no, marrying Cullen or joining the Red Jennys is no impediment to join the “Stop Solas” Squad; the end of Trespasser means something, mainly that this is personal. Be it they loved them as lovers, as friends or ended up hating his guts for using and betraying them, the Inquisitor’s relationship with Solas makes this very personal, and so having any other character do that face off would cheapen all of it, all that bittersweet angsty development and expectations of either revenge or closure. That moment should happen between those two. It adds a ton of motivation due to their past historyas well, something a new protagonist would lack entirely.  My personal best hope is for a sort of dual protagonist thing, say we play new protagonist for most of the game but a selected missions or scenes where we play as the Inquisitor once again and take over for key and heart-wrenching dialogue options. My second best hope is for the Inquisitor to show up as playable for the moment we catch up with Solas. My third and final best hope is for the inquisitor to be a sort of advisor but more like new protagonist’s boss/employer to whom they report back to and get new missions from. The Inquisitor can be stuck in meetings for the most part of it, i just want to know they’re there, behind a door, super busy but there. A cameo like Hawke’s in Inquisition is the bare miminum i can take, anyhting less than that like a mention in a sidequest description or a footnote in a codex entry would be a total  injustice. 

Romances: I’m open for pretty much anything, as any good BW fan would be. But i’d like romances to feel more alive in the sense that they don’t abruptly get stuck once you exhaust all related quests and dialogue options. As much as my Adaar liked that spank from the Iron Bull, that it was the only thing they could share after their romance was locked was a bit..meh. I liked Dorian’s tho, because his gave one the option to talk a bit, go for a walk, gossip, and sure, it all happened off-screen, and there were limited possibilities, but it was nice and made their relationship feel a bit more real, like they had more to it than kissing and stuff. It happens in most games, once you secure a romanceable companion suddenly you run out of things to do and share with them, and you get stuck with the same 3 lines of dialogue over and over again. There should be a way of solving that.

Side quests: i’m ok with fetch quests initially as it is a good way of forcing the player to go out and explore huge maps, but i’d also like the fetching to have some meaning other than checking things off a list. I want to explore many ruins, and -can’t believe i’m actually saying this- i want a Fade quest. Wait! I know what you’re thinking but don’t kill me just yet, here’s my idea: what if we could visit the Fade at certain locations to witness memories or meet with spirits and recollect information on Solas, his past, his present? Both to understand him better (keep in mind we’ll most likely get a new protagonist who isn’t familiar with him like we are as players) and try to locate him or predict his next move. It would be i think i great way of having visions of Arlathan in its golden age, maybe seeing some of the other Evanuris, how they interacted with each other and with the elves in their service, what really happened ...i just want that sweet, sweet lore, i need it.

Technical stuff: ok, graphics will be amazing for sure, but i also would really really like: better, more varied and longer hairstyles, PLEASE. Body sliders, it’s damn time we get them. Mounts that actually make a difference! Let staves blades make damage in combat, I’M BEGGING HERE. Combined classes, MAGICAL ROGUES! A homebase we can fix up/build on/redecorate as fully as possible (Skyhold was great and i love it to pieces but why were those walls NEVER repaired????) . More casual outfit options, idk i love to dress up my characters, maybe some transmog? A day/night cycle and please i would love to see Thedas’ second moon, also weather variations depending on the region. Yes, i’m ambitious.

Gameplay: i’d like more AI options for companions, but not quite like in DAO, that was too much and i rarely used it. I’m curious how they’ll do combat this time but i know for sure i don’t want the kind of combat that has me going almost frame by frame pausing at every second, it’s annoying for me. I want large areas like in DAI but with a bit more stuff to see and do although one of my favourite maps is the Hissing Wastes so i won’t complain if we get a literal desert but i’d also like it to have secrets hidden around, make me work to find and solve them, i love exploring, i jump and click on EVERYTHING like i’m still a kid playing Monkey Island. A companion in concept art seems to be holding what looks like some form of rifle, so i’m curious how they’d incorporate that in the game. I know Tevinter has the magics and dwarves have the skill, a firearm is totally within the possibilities in-game without breaking any lore; also super curious what sort of skill trees Crows or Lords of Fortune could have, are they rogues, or warriors, or both??

So far, that’s what i got in my head.Well, most of it anyways, i may have missed something but this post has to end somewhere lol

What’s in your head? Feel free to share! Have you been thinking on how you’ll create your next protagonist? All i can think of is magical rogues and that  glowing bow was all the hype i needed.

[365days365movies]

March 15, 2021: Clash of the Titans (1981) (Part One)

This one’s personal…sort of.

Other than the fact that this is based on Greek mythology (previously well-established as one of my favorite subjects), this movie is, in a way, responsible for my existence. And that is because, according to legend, this is the film that my parents went to on their first date. And apparently, it went very well, because I came into being 10 years afterwards. So, yeah, this film is personal, like Dirty Dancing.

And also like Dirty Dancing, I HAVEN’T SEEN IT? I don’t know HOW I escaped seeing this movie. And that’s especially considering that I’ve seen the new one. And that movie was...not great.

Maybe not the worst film I’ve ever seen, but it’s definitely not a good movie. But OK, what’s this one about, exactly? Y’all ready for “The 365 Greek Mythology Hour” again? OK, then, here we go. SING IT LADIES

Clash of the Titans concerns the myth of Perseus, one of the greatest Greek heroes ever. Before Heracles, there was Perseus, son of Zeus. Yeah, Zeus, as he is wont to do, came down to Earth and had some good time with the princess of Argos, the beautiful Danaë. He came upon her while she was locked in a box by her dad, Acrisus, king of Argos.

Yeah, the Oracle at Delphi, ever the wisest, was visited by Acrisus one day, who wanted a son instead of a daughter. The Oracle spoke with Apollo (AKA huffed some of that SWEET SWEET ETHYLENE GAS), and told him that his daughter’s son would kill him. And so, he did the most logical thing: he locked her in a box. Yup. Dick. SPEAKING of dick, Zeus appeared to her in the open box as a golden shower. NOT THAT KIND OF GOLDEN SHOWER. I mean a literal shower of gold. Although...I wouldn’t put it past Zeus, of all gods. Dude was kinky.

So, Perseus is conceived, and Acrisus responds to this with his usual tact; he stuffs Danaë into a SMALLER box, and shoves it out to sea. She gives birth to a boy in the box, and the two eventually wash up on the shore of an island, where a fisherman finds them and takes them in. The boy is named Perseus.

Years go by, and Perseus’ mom is sought by his adoptive dad’s brother, and the king of the island, Polydectes. Polydectes is kind of a dick, and Perseus, now an adult man, doesn’t like him. The feeling’s mutual, and Polydectes has a plan. He holds a banquet, and forces all invited to bring a gift of horses. Perseus, being pretty poor, cannot bring this gift, but promises on his honor to bring whatever Polydectes wants of him, no matter what. And Polydectes asks for the head of Medusa.

Fuck.

Medusa’s one of your classic Greek monsters, a Gorgon. She’s one of Athena’s victims, formerly a vain temple priestess who was, well...raped by Poseidon, let’s be honest. However, since Athena’s priestesses were meant to be celibate, she was the one who ended up being punished. Fuckin’ YIKES. But OK, literal ancient gender politics aside, Athena cursed her with snakes for hair, and the ability to turn her victims into stone with a gaze into her eyes. Classic. And sure death for anyone who went after her.

So, Perseus is fucked. He’s gotta kill Medusa, and he doesn’t even have a way to get to her place. And that’s when he gets a favor from none other than Athena, goddess of wisdom and wartime strategy, as well as Perseus’ half-sister. I love Athena (other than the Medusa bullshit, obviously), and this is one of her most prominent roles in mythology. Well, that and the creation of spiders. That was also punishing a woman for her vanity, by the way. She has a type.

First, Perseus was told to find the Hesperides, nymphs of the dusk and dawn who would give him weapons. He got their location from the Greae, more colloquially known as the Gray Sisters. Weirdly enough, you may know them from Hercules, where they were combined with the Fates. They don’t have the future gimmick, but they do have that whole “sharing an eye” thing. Also, they share a tooth. Neat.

Anyway, Perseus takes their eye hostage, which makes them tell him where the Hesperides are. He goes to them, and they give him a bag to hold Meduga’s head. Then, the gods step in. Zeus decides to be a good dad for a change, and gives him an indestructible sword, and Hades’ Helmet of Invisibility. Hermes, another of Perseus’ half-brothers, gives him a pair of winged sandals to fly with. And Athena, technically Perseus’ patron, gives him a mirrored shield.

Perseus heads to the cave of Medusa, uses the shield, then goes up to her and cuts off her head. From her neck, for some goddamn reason, and golden sword pops out, alongside this guy.

Yeah, he’s not made out of clouds. He’s actually the, uh...he’s the result of Poseidon’s crime against Medusa. Fucked up, innit? Pegasus flies up to hang out with Bellerophon to kill the Chimera, and Perseus heads back to...actually, he goes to ANOTHER king who was a dick to him, and turns him into stone with Medusa’s head. Kings hate Perseus, seriously.

Perseus heads home after that, and goes through Ethiopia. There, he meets the King and Queen, Cepheus and Cassiopeia. Cassie’s gorgeous, but she tells Perseus that her daughter Andromeda is, like, WAY hotter, as beautiful as the sea goddesses. Which PISSES OFF POSEIDON (who is basically the villain of Perseus’ story, let’s be honest), and he send a sea monster named Cetus to destroy the kingdom, UNLESS they sacrifice Andromeda to it. And, because kings are assholes in this story, they do, chaining Andromeda to a rock. But, because Perseus believes that all women are queens, he goes to rescue her, and kills Cetus using all of his things. He weds Andromeda, and turns his romantic rival Phineus into stone using Medusa’s head.

Usually, that’s where retellings end, because there’s a recurring trend to Perseus’ story after that. A king is an asshole, Perseus whips out the head, asshole becomes statue of an asshole. However, there is that prophecy to contend with, about Perseus killing his grandfather. See, Acrisus basically retired by this point, and lived in the kingdom of Thessaly. But one day, he went to see some games, in which Perseus was competing in the discus. Well, wouldn’t you know it, Perseus isn’t great at it, and loses control of the discus, which hits Acrisus, killing him instantly.

Utimate frisbee, man. It’s dangerous.

There’s another version where Perseus uses Medusa’s head to turn his dad into stone, surprise surfuckingprise there. But yeah, after that the story varies. Sometimes he becomes a king, sometimes he doesn’t. He basically always marries Andromeda and has kids with her. Sometimes he founds a city of his own, sometime he doesn’t. And in one ending, where he’s lived to be an old king, he fulfills his ultimate destiny and turns Medusa’s head on himself. Geez.

So, yeah, there you go. That’s the story of Perseus. Let’s, uh...let’s see what the movie does, huh? This is another Ray Harryhausen joint, so I’m...tentatively excited for it. We’ll see how badly they mess up the myth, and whether or not it works despite that. So, ENOUGH of me lecturing you guys, huh?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin approximately where most iterations do: King Acrisius (Donald Houston) has just cast his daughter Danae (Vida Taylor) and grandson Perseus into the ocean, containing them within a wooden chest in order to “forgive his daughter’s crimes”. Yeah, sure, OK, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

This also pisses off Zeus (Laurence Mother Fucking Olivier), who consorts with the rest of the Olympians on what to do to Acrisus. Said Olympians include Hera (Claire Bloom), goddess of marriage and women; Thetis (Maggie Mother Fucking Smith), goddess of the sea and leader of the Nereids; Athena (Susan Fleetwood), goddess of wisdom and strategic victory; Aphrodite (Ursula Andress), goddess of love; and Poseidon (Jack Gwillim), god of the sea.

Hera tries to defend Acrisus, noting his prior years of devotion to Zeus and the other gods. But Zeus ain’t HAVING that shit, and tells Poseidon to destroy the city of Argos in revenge. This is to be done by...releasing the last of the Titans? Which is apparently the Kraken. I mean...no, a thousand times no, but whatever.

This little tantrum is Zeus’ way of showing his love towards Danae, whose child Perseus is his. This is helpfully pointed out by Thetis, who seems...a little spiteful, as much as Hera is about Perseus. Seems like she’s stoking some fires. Hmm. She is Queen of the Nerieds, so she may play a larger role later on.

Beneath the sea, Poseidon readies himself to set loose the Kraken and destroy Argos, at Zeus’ command. Zeus, meanwhile, kills Acrisus by using a clay voodoo doll of sorts to strike him down. And that’s when Poseidon lets loose the Kraken for the first time. And the Kraken...

Guys, the Kraken looks...actually, I’ll spoil his appearance later on. The Kraken destroys the city, and Zeus kills Acrisius. So much for the goddamn prophecy that explains why Acrisius did what he did, but fuck me, I guess. Danae and Perseus, meanwhile, have safely arrived on the shores of the island of Seriphus, at Zeus’ insistence. There, Perseus grows from child into a fine young man, with Zeus always watching over him...and with Thetis and company always watching over Zeus. Interesting.

The adult Perseus (Harry Hamlin) lives happily on the island, much to Perseus’ delight. Thetis, on the other hand, asks about her mortal son, a young man named Calibos (Neil McCarthy). Apparently, Calibos is a bit of a monster, and while he’d been set to wed the princess Andromeda, he’s also managed to kil all living things on the island that he’s been given, save for a single winged horse named Pegasus. Hence...he is to be punished.

Calibos, by the way? Entirely original creation of the film, and there’s nobody like him in Greek mythology. Anyway, Thetis is crushed by this, and decides to exact revenge of both Perseus and her son’s would-be fiancee, Andromeda. She pledges to open up Perseus’ eyes to grim reality, and does so by placing him in the kingdom of Joppa, where Calibos was originally set to rule alongside Andromeda.

Here, in an amphitheatre, he encounters a mysterious masked and robed figure, who quickly reveals themselves to be Ammon (Burgess Meredith), a poet and playwright. Apparently, Ammon wears his disguise to scare off trespassers. He tells Perseus that all of Joppa is in a tizzy about a curse of some kind, and that the story of the fallen kingdom of Argos is a famous legend.

Ammon tells Perseus to go back home to Seriphus, but Perseus tells Ammon that he’s promised to restore his mother’s old kingdom, and decides that Joppa would be a good start. Despite his drive, though, Zeus is pissed off at Thetis for plopping Perseus down unprepared. He tells the other goddesses to give him gifts to help him claim the kingdom of Joppa as his own. This includes a helmet from Athena, a sword from Aphrodite, and a shield from Hera. I mean...OK, that’s super goddamn weird, but OK.

After Zeus leaves, the goddesses rightfully complain about Zeus’ constant womanizing, but note that he probably doesn’t remember Danae at this point, is is most likely acting out of stubborn pride for his “handsome son”. Their words, not mine.

In Joppa, Perseus finds the gifts by the statues of their grantors. The sword from Aphrodite is adamantine, like the original myth, and slices through marble without a blemish. The shield from Hera...talks. Yeah. The shield bears the visage of Zeus, who tells him that the weapons are gifts from the gods, and that the helmet from Athena turns the wearer invisible. I mean, fuck Hades, I guess, but OK. Technically Athena did give the helmet to Perseus, so OK.

Armed with his new gear, an invisible Perseus immediately takes off to see Joppa, sans his sword. We only see his footsteps in the sand as he leaves, which is legitimately a VERY neat effect, and I’m not sure how they did it, but it’s neat as hell. Off to Joppa, a vaguely Phoenician/Persian kingdom, despite the fact that the original Joppa, or Jaffa, is a port city in Israel.

There, he meets a soldier, Thallo (Tim Pigott-Smith), who tells him of the situation. Since Calibos fell to Zeus’ wrath, Andromeda rejected him, allowing any suitor to try for her hand, whether they be royal or not. To do so, they must answer a riddle. If they fail to answer, the would-be suitor is burned to death. This is lorded over by Queen Cassiopeia (Sian Phillips), while Andromeda (Judi Bowker) lives in the tower of the palace.

Which is why Perseus IMEDIATELY uses the helmet to go into her room that night! CLASSY, PERSEUS. There, he sees...a giant vulture bring a cage to Andromeda’s balcony. No idea where in the fuck this is going, but that’s a damn good looking vulture. God, I love Harryhausen.

Anyway, the vulture is here for Andromeda’s soul, which leaves her body and goes to sit in the cage. The vulture takes off with it, al as the invisible Perseus watches on. He takes this opportunity to touch Andromeda’s face in her sleep (stop, Perseus, for the love of Zeus), then decides that winning Andromeda is his destiny. And so, his simpin’ journey begins.

The next day, Perseus asks Ammon how they can follow the vulture, who has apparently headed to the marshes to the “marsh lord”. To follow the vulture, Ammon suggests that they find and capture the last of the winged horses, known as Pegasus. And we’ve officially lost the track of Greek mythology at this point. Shit.

Well, with Ammon’s help, Perseus captures Pegasus and rides him through the skies. Meanwhile, in Corinth, some dude named Bellerophon is just having a stroke, I guess, because he’s totally fucked now. Whatever. The next day, the vulture comes back to Andromeda’s place and takes her soul to the marsh. But this time, Perseus and Pegasus follow them.

In the marsh, the marsh-lord and riddle-maker is revealed as Calibos, who is still in love with the beautiful Andromeda. As she cannot love him, he provides to her another riddle to give her would-be suitors. In tears, she memorizes the riddle and its answer, Calibos touches her uncomfortably, even as Andromeda asks him to lift his curse and show pity. But he refuses, in pain from his love. Jesus, this movie should be called Clash of the Simps, goddamn.

Perseus was watching the whole thing, though, which Calibos immediately figures out when he sees Perseus’ footsteps in the dirt. As Perseus goes through the swamp looking for Pegasus, he’s found and attacked by Calibos. Calibos, by the way, is a guy in pretty solid makeup in close-up shots, and a Harryhausen model in far-away shots.

The two struggle, the helmet is lost in the swamp, and Perseus draws his sword. But we suddenly cut away to see the daily ritual of the presentation for Andromeda’s would-be suitors. Perseus steps in, having survived the attack from last night, and offers his hand to Andromeda, who recognizes Perseus from a dream. She gives the riddle, which is ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT. Here, I’ll prove it.

In my mind’s eye, I see three circles joined in priceless harmony. Two, full as the moon; one, hollow as a crown. Two from the sea, five fathoms down. One from the Earth, deep under the ground. What is it?

Any guesses? Anybody?

NO MATTER WHAT YOU FAIL. Because the answer is Calibos’ ring! HOW IN THE SHIT WOULD ANYBODY HAVE GUESSED THAT? It’s a golden ring with two pearls on it! WHO KNOWS THAT SHIT? I call complete bullshit, and the only reason that Perseus knows it is because he spied on this last night! Also, because he cut off Calibos’ hand, and made him renounce his curse, which is...never really specified, now that I think about it.

With that, Perseus has both Andromeda’s and Calibos’ hands! HA! Calibos is not as amused, as he preys to his other Thetis, at a temple of hers. He demands that Thetis take revenge on those whom Perseus loves, specifically Andromeda and the city of Joppa itself. He demands justice, but Thetis identifies this correctly as revenge. All the while, Perseus declares his love for Andromeda, and they seal their union with a kiss and ritual.

During this ritual, in which Andromeda and Perseus are essentially married, Queen Cassiopeia, LIKE A DUMBASS, says that Andromeda is more beautiful than the goddess Thetis herself. Yeah. BAD FUCKING MOVE, especially because she said that IN FRONT OF THETIS’ FUCKING SANCTUARY. At least that dumbass move was kept from the original story.

Well, Thetis tells Cassie that she can only atone for her stupidity in one way: sacrifice your daughter to the Kraken in 30 days. Later on, Perseus speaks with Ammon to figure out how they can defeat the Kraken. Ammon suggests speaking with the “Stygian Witches”, who I’m assuming are our Grey Sisters for the night. However, according to Thallo, they have a taste for human flesh. Still, Perseus is going, as are Ammon, Thallo, and Andromeda. But not Pegasus.

Well...shit, man. That changes a few things, huh? But that’ll be addressed...IN PART TWO! See you there!

[lesbianlotties]

Being with you (Makes the flame burn good) - The Old Guard (2020) - Andy/Quynh

They were somewhere in Italy. Somewhere beautiful, because Nicky always picked the best places. It had been six months since Nile joined them, since they left Booker, since Andy lost her immortality, and since Nicky and Joe started feeling more preoccupied than they’ve felt in centuries.

Then the fateful day arrived.

or, Andromache and Quynh are reunited, and it could have gone worse. X

They were somewhere in Italy. Somewhere beautiful, because Nicky always picked the best places. It had been six months since Nile joined them, since they left Booker, since Andy lost her immortality, and since Nicky and Joe started feeling more preoccupied than they’ve felt in centuries. Sure, every time they went into a fight it was a high-anxiety situation. Andy never let them get too relaxed and confident. There was always, always the fear that it would be the last time, that it would be their <i>time</i>. But still, jobs like theirs were over relatively soon. 

On the other hand, losing a friend that’s been with them for two hundred years, that took a toll on them. Also, suddenly finding themselves with a new friend, a young, intelligent and brave, but inexperienced and curious, <i>very</i> young friend that they felt immediately protective of, that was something new and exciting and kept them on their toes. <i>Additionally</i>, seeing their leader, the fearless, selfless, magnificent, almost too big for adjectives, their beloved leader suddenly mortal, suddenly fragile and… it was all… almost too much to bear.

To say they were all in an extraordinary situation would be an understatement. But they coped however they could. They had taken a job or two, because they seemed fitting and Andy insisted. Nobody could say no to Andy still. They traveled too, because there was so much of the world that Nile hadn’t seen and they were just realizing how fun it could be to introduce her to it all. They also rested. They took their time to relax and stand still for short periods of time. 

They stayed in safe houses like this one in Italy. There was a garden, and Joe would teach Nile how to cook everyone’s favorite meals, all in ways no chef alive would have thought of. There was a small library, and Nicky spent long hours trying to teach Nile a few languages, and then getting sidetracked telling her all their best stories. Meanwhile, Andy would teach her how to fight. They would train for hours on end. Andy was ruthless, sometimes too much. Nile would have complained if she hadn’t been aware of two things. One, the immense value of the lessons. She was learning more fighting styles than she could keep track of, all straight from possibly the best fighter still alive. Two, it mattered to Andy. 

Maybe Joe, Nicky, and Booker knew Andy infinitely better than Nile, after so many centuries together. But there was a chance that that same knowledge had made them immune to a few little details. Because Nile would stare at Andy with a clean, brand-new perspective, from a fresh pair of eyes. She wasn’t looking for the familiar signs of Andy when she’s mad, when she’s nostalgic, or annoyed, or tired. She looked at Andy as if she were any other person and she looked for little quirks and small reactions and somehow she knew, she got her. Andy found it all fascinating, terrifying, and a little embarrassing. But she understood that what little time she had, when compared to all the time she’s already had, there was no use in feeling shy. So, Andy let Nile get close. 

They trained and would fight for hours, but then they rested together. They would lay down in the soft grass, or they would sit side by side on the roof. The silence was welcomed, appreciated, and much needed. But it was not all just silence. Andy, Nile figured it out pretty soon, liked to listen to Nile’s stories, and Nile’s thoughts, and about Nile’s past. Luckily, Nile had made great improvements in accepting her new life, and she’d decided that she’d talk about her mother, her brother, and her past life as often as she felt like it, promising herself to never forget them. Sometimes, she talked to Andy about God, her God. Sometimes, almost every time, Andy would laugh. But afterward, more often than not, Andy would be quiet and thoughtful. Nile didn’t for one second think that Andy was considering the idea, but it must remind her something she liked to think about. So Nile let her get lost in those thoughts, offering company, being a friend, being a new addition to the family.

Then the fateful day arrived. 

The youngest of the group had retired to bed early that night, tired after another day of training, learning, and unexpected fun with her new family. This left Andy, Nicky and Joe hanging out by themselves in the living room of their temporary home. 

“Going to bed already?” Joe called after Nile’s retreating form in the hallway.

“Shut up, I’m exhausted!”

A series of chuckles followed, and then it was just the three of them. They’d grown to quickly enjoy Nile’s presence in their lives, but they couldn’t deny that they also appreciated that she represented a distraction from a series of things that deeply haunted them.

“You’re getting too soft with her,” Joe teased the man sitting beside him, playfully poking his torso with a finger.

“I am not,” Niky laughed fondly, knowing it was true. They were all developing a soft spot for the newest addition to the team.

“You are,” Andy intervened, lifting the bottle of beer she was sipping from in her friend's direction.

She was drinking less, lately. As she’d told Booker after his betrayal, they hadn’t been doing their best at managing their lives. None of them earned anything good by trying to numb it all away. Plus, under the scrutiny of Nile’s young and righteous eyes, she made it feel possible to redeem themselves. Plus, Andy wasn’t sure if she could be as reckless with her body anymore.

“I’m just the only one that has kept his manners after all these years.” Nicky’s comments made the others chuckle.

Joe stared at Andy then. Her eyes were still tired, always grieving, but her stare was clear, and she looked as relaxed as she was capable of, which wasn’t much but, it was something. “Admit it, boss,” he told her, “you like having the kid around.”

Andy took her time answering, lips turned upward slightly and she nodded. “Sure. Why not?” It was a good enough admission.

Then, for a moment, they were quiet. There was an infinite number of things to talk about, and an infinite number of things to stay quiet about. In the end, Joe and Nicky started joking about something related to Copley, and it had their leader happily chuckling along with their teasing. She appreciated the two men’s ability to pick up on the fact that she had enough deep conversations with Nile and sometimes all she wanted was to lay back and bask in the comfortable familiarity of millennia of friendship. That lasted a few more minutes, until Nile came back.

The young ex-soldier had gotten better at handling her nightmares, her dreams of the woman in the iron coffee at the bottom of the sea. She was familiar with the image, she knew the story, she learned how to wake up, calm down her breathing, and sometimes go back to sleep by herself without disturbing her friends. She had noticed how deeply affected Andy was about each mention of the dreams. But, this time, it was <i>different</i>, this time she knew she couldn’t, she seriously couldn’t deal with it by herself. She walked slowly, drowsily toward the living room. She stared at Andy, Joe, and Nicky, the most remarkable people she’d ever met and she felt a knot on her throat.

“Andy…” Nile started to say, fear and confusion clouding her voice. But she didn’t have time to say more. 

Andy had immediately been worried by the expression in Nile’s face, but there wasn’t any time for questioning. It was late at night, nobody knew where they were, nobody was supposed to find that house. Still, they all heard, clear as day, the sound of the iron gates of the garden being pulled open. In the blink of an eye, with perfected ease and speed, the three ancient warriors rushed to their front door, holding swords and guns and ready for an unexpected fight. At least, they thought they had been ready.

As soon as she walked out of the door, Andy felt her world come to a screeching halt, she felt as if the ground had given in underneath her feet. She stumbled and if it weren’t for Joe’s quick reflexes that held her up steadily she would’ve fallen down to the ground. If it had been just a dream, just an illusion, maybe some stranger that looked a lot like her, that would have been enough to shake Andy up, she would have gotten over it, but that wasn’t the case. Because the more she stared at the woman in front of her, the more she just knew it was <i>her</i>. The warm glow that came from their windows and the gentle but clear light of the moon were more than enough.

Andy could recognize that face anywhere. She’d seen her dying, and more times than she could count she’d seen her coming back to life. She’d seen her in paintings, sculptures, and in her own nightmares. She’d read about her in legends, myths, and history. Most importantly, she’d memorized that face herself, an impossible number of years ago. She knew every curve and crinkle in her skin, and knew the strength and ability of her muscles. She knew the feeling, the scent, the taste, she knew all of it. They fought together so bravely and loved each other so fiercely and still it hadn’t been enough to keep them together, to help Andy find her again. Now here she was. <i>Quynh</i>. The warrior. The Goddess. The obsession. The broken promise. She was all rage, regret, fear and grief, and all the emotions that dismally shadowed over the relief, the joy, the gratitude, and the love.

“Andromache,” Quynh spoke for the first time. Slow and deliberate after waiting five hundred years to say that one name.

“Quynh,” Andy responded in barely a whisper and nobody, none of them had ever heard her sound so fragile and completely vulnerable.

Quynh stared at her eyes and hated that they were so clear and watery they reminded her of the sea.

“I had hoped <i>so</i> badly for you to be dead. But now I know I had to find you alive, so I could be the one to find the way to kill you.”

Quynh’s firm and confident tone didn’t leave room for interpretation or doubt on her words. Andy, on the other hand, could do nothing but let out a feeble sigh. She took one step forward, but Quynh put up a hand to stop her from coming any closer. She stared at the group standing closely behind Andy.

“Hello… Nicolo, Yusuf… and a new one?” She had a hypnotizing voice that drew them all in.

“My name is Nile Freeman,” the youngest replied with courage that she wasn’t sure where it came from.

Quynh only nodded in acknowledgment, and continued, “Booker wanted you to know he would not break the agreement, and he stayed away. He let me find you myself.” As she finished talking, Quynh drew out a sword and added, “Are you not going to say anything?”

Andy’s silence unnerved them all. She looked almost in a trance, but there was no denying that in the first step she took toward Quynh that she was as strong and certain as they all knew her to be. “I searched for you for so long…” she whispered.

“I thought you would search until you died! I would have!”

“You don’t know that. It was impossible.”

“<i>We</i> are impossible! Yet here we are.”

As they talked, both were talking slow steps forward. At one moment, Nile tried to reach out to her leader, her friend, the most exceptional woman she’d ever met. “Andy, don’t…” she whispered. But she was stopped by the gentle hands of Nicky and Joe on her shoulders, stopping her from stepping into a fight that wasn’t hers to fight.

“You don’t have to do this,” Andy said. Her voice had regained some of its strength. She wasn’t scared. If anything, her body felt alive and electric at being at such close proximity to the woman that meant more to her than anything else in the world ever did.

“But I do,” Quynh replied. Her face was never still. It was obvious she struggled with keeping hold of her emotions. She was juggling rage, insanity, and something more tender and painful but unexpectedly warm. “I lost my mind, I lost my heart too. I lost myself down, down at the bottom of the ocean. Meanwhile, you-”

“Meanwhile I lost all peace of mind, broke my heart beyond repair, and lost all sense of self. I lost everything when I lost <i>you</i>.” At that moment, Quynh finally raised her sword, pointed it at Andy, but Andy didn’t back down or hesitate. She tightened her hand holding her awe, then she let it fall on the ground. Unarmed, somehow she looked stronger than ever. She kept going, moving forward, staring straight into the other woman’s eyes. “I had to learn, Quynh, that time does <i>not</i> heal all wounds. You have to actually do something to get them to heal. And I am prepared to do anything for you.”

Quynh took another step forward, her sword was now inches away from Andy’s face. It must have been something in Quynh’s eyes, a small twitch on her face, anything. But it let Nile know that it was now or never. “Don’t!” she blurted out, before it was too late and quickly say, “Don’t kill her! She’s no longer immortal!”

Nicky and Joe tightened her hold on her but it was too late, the words were out in the open. Andy closed her eyes and looked away, “Nile...” she said to herself, half touched and half annoyed as she often was by the untameable attitude of the young woman. 

“What?!” Quynh exclaimed.

For the first time, her hold on the sword wavered. For the first time since she arrived, she couldn't hold Andy’s eyes. She looked down, but her emotions still showed clear as day or her face or, more accurately, the storm of emotions she held inside. This wasn’t what she’d expected, this wasn’t what she’d hoped for. In all those years she hadn’t exactly considered this scenario. Did it make her job easier? Or was it the last thing she wanted? Did it <i>matter</i>? Quynh cursed and took a definite step forward, now the tip of her sword was tilting Andy’s brave and beautiful face up. It was now or never, and that was a first for them.

“Would you really, <i>really</i> die for me?” Quynh asked, and for a split moment, her eyes cleared. The fog of madness and resentment vanished. It was just the two of them together again. A question and a promise hanging in the air.

“Yes,” Andy replied without hesitating, “Even worse… I would <i>live</i> for you.”

Andy smiled. She genuinely smiled. And it was that little, almost playful smirk, that broke the other woman down. Quynh’s eyes darkened again. It was too much, the swirling of love and hate accumulated in her throughout centuries. She thrust her swords forward, and then just as swiftly she pulled it back, covered in her old lover’s blood. 

The second the blade went through Andy’s neck, Nile screamed. Nick and Joe felt something powerful deep inside of them crumble to pieces. It was a sight that wasn’t entirely new to them, but there was an added knowledge this one time that nobody had prepared them for.

Andy wobbled for a second, but before she could fall to the ground, Quynh threw down her sword and lunged to catch Andy in her arms. Now she was kneeling on the soil of an Italian garden under a clear night sky, holding the woman she loved for centuries, the woman she begged for hundreds of years, the woman she fiercely wanted to hate and kill and meet again just to see her eyes one last time, and she realized, this wasn’t what she wanted.

“My love…” Quynh whispered tearfully, “I had to… I’m sorry.”

Then there was a heavy silence starting to fall over them. Blood poured from Andy’s wound and she struggled to breathe, but she was relaxed. She was finally where she had so desperately wanted to be for so long, in her lover’s arms.

Nile, along with Nicky and Joe approached them cautiously. Nile fell down to her knees near Andy, feeling utterly devastated. Behind her, Joe rubbed his eyes with one hand, while with the other he held Nicky’s hand, whose head was resting on Joe’s shoulder. They all felt broken. The silence was unbearable.

That’s when Andy started coughing. At first, nobody even gasped, for fear that the smallest disturbance would take away the miracle.

“I’m sorry too,” Andy said, her voice was rough but she couldn’t stop saying it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Quynh watched in horror and delight as the raw, red wound in Andy’s throat slowly but surely completely healed. She tenderly placed her hand over it and even though she’d seen it happen thousands of times before, this time she couldn’t help but whisper, “How? How…” One of Andy’s hands moved over’s Quynh’s hand and maybe it was just a reflex but Quynh’s fingers curled over the other woman’s hand then it couldn’t have been just a reflex after the seconds passed and she didn’t pull away. Andy held Quynh’s hand tightly against her chest and smiled, because she couldn’t help herself.

“I really don’t know what just happened,” Andy said, and turned her head to look at her friends, “Didn’t I have to use a fucking bandaid last week?”

While Joe and Nicky laughed tearfully, Nile grinned, “I told you!” she said, because it was true. She had said it to Andy once or twice during one of their long talks after training, “Maybe you thought it was your time, but maybe it <i>isn’t</i> anymore! You still have more to give. Humanity still needs you. I need you! You have to- you have to train me, you have to lead us in these difficult times, you… you have some wounds that need healing before you go.”

That made Andy turn her head again to look up at Quynh, who still held her carefully in her arms. They met each other’s eyes and they found galaxies in them. There might not be time enough on this Earth for them to unravel everything their souls held, but it looked like they might have an opportunity to try.

“It would take you an eternity,” Quynh’s said with a trembling voice. She wanted it to sound like a threat. The hurricane of emotions inside her was back in full swing, she could barely hold them from spilling over. She felt furious and she felt insane and she wanted to be angry at Andy for surviving. She didn’t want to feel so delighted, didn’t want to feel whole after being reunited with her love, but she did.

“All the time I have is yours,” Andy answered, “I swear.”

Quynh wanted to stab her. But she didn’t have a weapon at hand. So, when Andy leaned in, Quynh did the second best thing she could think of, she kissed her. Nobody on Earth had waited so long for a kiss. It was the most painful and wonderful kiss. It was worse than a threat and better than a promise. They just knew that after that kiss their grief and resentment, their love and devotion were sealed forever. Now they truly will stay together, and they will heal together, and make amends, and fight together again. They will figure out how to love each other ardently again and forever. It will be just the two of them again… until the end.

[bodyswapmischief]

Authentic Costumes: Gladiators

-Yes! The costumes came!

Andrew walked back into the living room, with a simple brown postal box. Jack stopped what he was doing, and looked at his friend.

-Good. They were cutting it pretty late. I mean the party is in 2 hours.

-Well, no need to complain anymore. Hurry let's bust them out and start getting ready. The site said the transformation process will take about an hour.

The two friends worked together to open the box. Inside were two authentic gladiators costumes and two jars of glowing purple liquid. In addition, there was a file describing the costumes in more detail.

- "Octavius and Maximus" Wow those are some bad-ass names. Apparently, they were the Ancient Roman's version of a tag team. It says that they were undefeated, loved by the roman people, and were able to retire, with a comfortable amount of winnings from their triumphs. If I'm reading this correct these potions will transform us into Octavius and Maximus at the height of their careers.

-It, also, says that Maximus was the stronger of the two. So ... I'll be taking this vial.

-Aww come on ...

- No dude. Look at the size of this armor both these guys must have been so ripped. It's not going to matter that I'm going to be slightly stronger than you. Besides, I'm the one that paid for them.

-Fine, fine, fine. Well here goes nothing. Cheers.

-Cheers

Both guys remove the tops on their jars and drink the purple liquid. Jack becoming Maximus. And, Andrew becoming Octavius. An intense sensation starts filling thier bodies, as with each heart beat the glowing liquid spreads through every vein in their body.

-Dude, I don't feel so ... good. I'm getting ... pretty dizzy ... and tired. My heart is beating ... too fast.

-Just calm down. It affecting me too. The instructions says it affects everyone differently. Just try to sleep it off. But, I feel great. Damn, I feel pumped. I feel ... I feel ... I feel ...

And, like that Andrew fell unconscious. Meanwhile, Jack slowly started drifting off. The last thing his drowsy eyes saw was hair filling up his chest. And, was his stomach bulging out?

Dreams of being in the arena filled their mind, until Jack started coming into consciousness. His body felt heavy and swore. He was feeling the effects of the hard life style of the gladiator's life. Still unable to shake the sleepiness out of his eyes. He rubbed his face, with his hand. His arms felt heavy and strong. And, his hands were rough against his breaded face.

Slowly he moved to lay on his side. As he did, he felt a strange pressure on his stomach move with him. Completing the turn to his side, he felt his stomach extend far beyond his body. At this point, Jack quickly sat up and finally forced himself awake. He stared at his naked body, as his clothes were ripped around him. The sight of his belly and and moobs blocked anything underneath his gut.

He looked to the body next to him. Andrew, also, got fat and hairy. But, not as fat as Jack, now was. It also seemed like Andrew's new body had a height advantage, which helped him look slimmer.

Jack got off the floor and ran to the nearest mirror, his body jiggling with every step. All though he took up more space, the world around him seemed a bit bigger. He saw his reflection and screamed. His fears were confirmed. He was fat, short, and looked way older. The loud rough deep gladiatorial scream woke up Andrew, and he shot straight up.

-What ... what! What going on! Wait Jack ... what going ... is that you? What up with my body?

Andrew was now exploring his stocky body.

-What the fuck dude! You got the wrong package. This has to be some kind of joke costume. Why am I so fat and short compared to you. I thought I was supposed to be the better one.

-No it can't be wrong, I made sure. These are supposed to be authentic gladiator costumes. I'll call up. Something had to go wrong.

-You better. We can't go to the frat party like this. The costumes are the only thing that fit us, now. I'd be fine showing off my body if we were fit. But, I don't want to walk around shirtless with this gut. Not to mention, the fact that we look way to old now to be at a college party.

Andrew called the costume company. He explained what happened and the mumbled voice started answering his questions.

- So, what did they say?

- Okay. Don't be mad.

-Why...?

-Well there is nothing wrong with the costume. This is how authentic gladiator look like. Apparently they were all fat vegetarians. In fact, it seems like your current body type made for the best gladiator. It's seem to be a common misconception that they are buff, because of Hollywood. And, if we wanted to be hot gladiators we should have ordered the Hollywood gladiators package.

-Damn this fucking sucks. Shit! Well we can't go to the party now. I guess I'll post mates us some bigger clothes. How old would you say I look. 45? I guess there gotta be something a middle aged man can do on Halloween. Maybe a bar or something. I mean we still gotta make the most of tonight. I guess it will be kinda fun. I mean we won't be this age for another 25 years and tonight we will be able to legally drink. It's kinda like seeing our future selves, but hopefully I won't get this fat.

Jack started laughing. Andrew, who remained quiet, started up again.

-Well ... um .... there is actually more. Remember don't get mad. I'm sure we'll be able to laugh about this later.

-What!? What are you talking about.

-Well ... you see ... this authentic package is mainly bought by people you work in areas were this body is best suited for. Like gladiator impersonator, construction worker, or any other person who wants to be a big beefy guy.

-Yes ... and ...what?

-Well ... these type of people need the costumes for more more than one night. So, they sell the transformation liquid in a bundle.

-What? So we are stuck like this for a work week? Are you fucking serious. We have class tomorrow. I have test. I can't take it looking like a completely different person.

-No not a week. We were supposed to take a drop. That would have lasted a 24 hours. But, the jar has enough drops to last a year. So, we are stuck like this, at least until, next Halloween.

-What the fuck! What are we going to do? We can't stay like this?

-I know ... I know. But customer service is going to handle it. This isn't the first time this has happened. They got a connection with witness protection. So, for a year we are gonna have new lives. But, ... um ... there also might be a chance that we are stuck like this.

-What!?

-Like, I said it affects everyone differently. We drank a whole jar. Costumer service said most people, in cases like ours, revert back to normal. But, some also change permanently. We won't find out until next Halloween.

Jack felt tears welling up in his eyes. HIs body was shaking with rage. He was mad at Andrew for not researching enough. He was mad at himself for wanting to do this in the first place. He hated his new body. Even being in Andrew's new body would have been better. These strong emotions were rising to the surface.

Jack Slammed into Andrew. Their skin pressed against each other. Suddenly muscle memory took over, as the bodies wrestled against each other. It was like a dance these two bodies practiced for a life time. It just felt natural. They way their skin touched and the power of their bodies filled both men with passionate aggression. Finally, Jack was able to pin down Andrew. He looked into Andrew's eyes and smiled lovingly.

-I win again

Jack leans down and begins kissing Andrew. They moan as their bodies and tongues rub against each other. Suddenly they both snapped out of it.

Jack quickly gets off of Andrew

-What the fuck was that?

- I don't know it was like our bodies went on auto pilot. This must been something these bodies have always done. You know it wasn't strange for gladiators to have sex with each other.

-oh shut up!

They both just sat in silence. There bodies sore and heavy. Both men now looked at each other in a different light. In their new bodies they found each other extremely attractive. They minds were screaming no, but the urges in their body were getting stronger. They both got up and faced each other. Their bellies were pressed against each other. And before they could continue their love making there was a knock on the door, as two police officers came in. They came to escort the two men to their new lives. Their futures where unknown, but the two men were happy they had each other.

[grimes-claireboucher]

GRIMES | WHO KNEW WORLD-BUILDING WOULD BE SO DIFFICULT?

BY SID FEDDEMA

APRIL 23, 2019

You can hear it, can’t you? The pulsing, panning synth bass, ingenious and instantly memorable. A gossamer coo, almost a sigh. And then a voice in an unusually high register singing 
lyrics full of menace, at odds with a calculated syrupy-sweet, faux-naive intonation: I never walk about after dark / It’s my point of view / If someone could break your neck / Coming up behind you always coming and you’d never have a clue.  

Seven years later, its power remains unmitigated. “Oblivion” turned horror into art, and, while drawn from a personal, particular experience, it spoke to a universal pain, a sense of predation and vulnerability all too familiar for women. Most importantly, it is a defiant act of resistance, a steadfast insistence on Grimes’ ownership of her own experience, and a refusal to be silenced. Pitchfork named it the best song of the decade so far. NPR named it one of the “greatest songs by 21st Century women.” Grimes was suddenly a cultural touchstone, a feminist symbol, a cherished member of the resistance. Everyone was watching.

They still are. Look at the Twitter fusillades, the talmudic readings of even the most flippant utterance, the team-joining. Feuds! With contemporaries, the media, her label. Gossip! A storm of it, following her spacetime-warping appearance with Elon Musk on the Met Gala red-carpet. And to hear Grimes tell it, being caught up in all this has been excruciating. She’s said that 2018 was one of the hardest years she’s endured.

When we speak, Grimes is in flux—emotionally, artistically, career-wise. But that’s nothing new. If I was to describe her with one word, I think it would be '“mercurial.” Or “protean.” She never stands still, never settles. She feels less like one person than like a collection of occasionally-combative creative spirits inhabiting one body. Hence the wide cast of characters in her albums, the fashion experiments, the accretion disk of material spanning mediums and genres. As I was writing this article we got word that she has changed her name—to c [lowercase italic], rather than Claire Boucher, and that the Grimes identity she’s built up over the course of her career could be next to go. For a journalist, she’s a tough subject: not only is she encyclopedic in conversation, but by the time you finish your draft, half of what you’ve written may no longer be true. While this capriciousness is a powerful creative resource, it can also make things difficult. She is a hell of a lot of fun to talk to, though—a whirlwind of ideas, opinions, wisecracks, and puckish self-deprecation.

I was given four tracks from the new album to prepare. But when I bring up the first, the disarmingly raw, strange, and lovely “Shall I Compare Thee,” she laughs. “I hate all these songs now. I might even replace them all. I’m supposed to be finishing the album this month or whatever, but I’ve been making a shit ton of new music instead. Which is a really bad idea.” She sighs, thinks for a moment. “But I’ll probably put out the songs that I said I’ll put out.” I tell her that her fans would surely appreciate seeing what she’s been working on. “Maybe, maybe not,” she replies, grinning. “I think the fans want me to stop making metal, nu-metal. Which I will! I have, I have stopped making metal!” Meanwhile, she’s dropping demos for an augmented reality side project under the moniker “Dark,” scribbling away on a novel, and thinking about a suite of “hymns, like glossolalia vocal music,” but which she “probably won’t release as ‘Grimes,’” as she explains it. She has changed her artistic approach, and is intent on unshackling her creative impulses. “I read a book on speed painting, about how you just lay it down and become satisfied with it. So I’m trying to do a bunch of stuff like that right now. It does feel better, because it just contains more life,” she explains. “Shall I Compare Thee” embodies this speed-painting creative methodology: DIY production, recorded in “like, two hours.” But the other single from the album, “We Appreciate Power,” is the opposite. It’s polished to a shine, conceptual, accompanied by a well-produced video. “‘Power’ is sort of the end of the old music I was making,” she says. “This era of super-produced and perfected sound—it’s sort of a thesis on that, a bookend.” 

She’s eager to explain the concept of the new album. However she feels about the songs at any given moment, she’s clearly excited about the story that they’re telling. “Miss Anthropocene” is a character, essentially an anthropomorphization of the concept of climate change. The name is a witty pun on “misanthropy” and “anthropocene”—the geological era defined by humanity’s irrevocable impacts on the planet. “All the media about climate change is like one big guilt trip. It’s super depressing, like, here are some facts that make you wanna go home and kill yourself. It sucks and it sucks to look at, so people just kind of look away from it,” she says. “I want to change that. In ancient Greek culture you have these gods that represent abstract, terrifying concepts. Like a God of Death. So I wanted to make Miss Anthropocene this idea of, like, the God of Climate Change. She wants the world to end and she wants to bring about the end of humanity, but she’s fun. She’s fucking fun and evil!” Grimes laughs. “Also, climate change is beautiful, even if it’s terrifying. It’s so nice to look at. The sunsets are brighter and more beautiful. Volcanoes, oil rainbows, hurricanes... destruction is gorgeous—people are drawn to it.” 

Miss Anthropocene marks the end of an era for Grimes. When it’s released she’ll be finished with her obligations to her label, and she’s excited about the prospect of working without contractual restrictions. “I’ll never sign with another label. I’ll never have to put out another album... If I didn’t have this whole requirement to release an ‘album,’ I would have just dropped a bunch of music ages ago.” The album format, she says, feels increasingly ill-suited for her shape-shifting, experimental style. “Albums are trash unless you sit down and make a really good album. I’m not really that consistent. I feel like I would work better in like EP-ish formats.” 

It’s not the only departure from musical tradition that she’s considering. Touring, she tells me, has increasingly become a stressful obligation. “I wanna retire from touring. I wanna do a hologram tour. Why do we keep doing them for dead artists instead of living ones who have stage fright?” Does she still get stage fright, this far into her career? “Oh my god, yes. It’s nightmarish. Apocalyptic. Terrifying, horrible. I can’t hear clapping or cheers—I just hear an echo chamber of death. I black out. Dissociation—I can’t tell what’s happening. After a show I’m always thinking, What happened? And people are like ‘It’s ok!’ I know people like the authenticity of live performance, and I do too. But I’m not a good performer. I’m a director who accidentally fell into this position, and now it’s too late to change. So I need to Gorillaz it—I need to find a way to not have to do the Beyoncé thing as much.” 

The sense is that Grimes is finished with facades, done pretending, done jumping through hoops to meet our expectations for what a ‘pop-star’ should be. Coming to terms with all this has been a messy and difficult process, but she’s finally feeling like herself again. She’s optimistic, if wary. And she’s ready to let it all out. Her forthcoming album, to hear her tell it, is Grimes unleashed. “I feel like at times there is an extreme rage that I haven’t been able to lay down,” she says. “A rawness that I have withheld from the public, because people always told me to make it more accessible. I’ve given that up for this, and it’s been freeing.”

She’s confronting her past as well. Miss Anthropocene was written during a period of intense self-reflection, and in the midst of personal tragedy. After losing others to addiction and overdoses, yet another close friend had passed. She hints obliquely at her own struggles with substances. It’s hard for her to talk about, but she has confronted it head-on while making this album, and is ready to be honest with the public. “I had early disturbing experiences with kids coming up to me and admiring things that were self-destructive. I was like, fuck, people think it’s cool to cut yourself or vomit or do crack. That’s not good! But then it became this stifling thing,” she says. “I don’t know. I’ve lived this hard, fucked-up life. I can’t pretend I didn’t. It started feeling like I couldn’t express myself properly, because I was so worried about being a good role model. It scares me to be hyper-honest, but we never see women getting to be that way. There should be someone out there that’s messy and fucked up—for some people this is how it is. It scares me because I don’t want little kids to romanticize certain things that are not cool. But I also don’t want to lie about the reality of my existence. I can’t make super honest or super emotional art if I’m always pretending to be cool and chill all the time.”

Grimes’ fans, who love her rabidly, have expressed worry at times in the last few years. If it seems she’s been self-sabotaging, whether online or in her relationships with collaborators and partners, it’s because she really has struggled. But unlike most of us, every step of her journey has been seized upon by a fascinated public and a cynical press hungry for headlines and clicks. And her reticence to tell us what she was really going through left all the more room for speculation. “Two of my best friends died before I was 18, and I lost like five friends to opiate-related deaths. Really close friends. I had one die when I was on a shoot, and found out while filming the second day. All this stuff, fucked up stuff, is happening. Before I would just not mention any of it. I feel like I’ve been through war when I think that all these people around me are dead. In 2016, my good friend died. They were a friend of 15 years, and I felt nothing. Just nothing. And it was so weird. But, you know, there you go. So you start removing yourself from everybody because you don’t want to face it. Life becomes too shockingly fragile, you know?” 

It hasn’t been easy for Grimes to engage with her past, but talking about it—in her art, in interviews like this one—is helping. “I’ve gotten better. I was really fucked up in 2016 when I wrote this album, but now I’m doing much better. When I was going through the Art Angels cycle, I was having severe PTSD, and everyone was like, ‘Don’t let the public know!’ I know there are people who think I’ve fucked up the last year, and I do need to be more organized and reasonable and thoughtful at times, for sure. But I feel my art is better.” 

Grimes’ favorite part of her job comes before she records a single note. “Dreaming it up feels so easy. The making and releasing can be horrible, but the dreaming is always fun,” she sighs. And that’s why she’s such an interesting figure, right? She’s a prodigious dreamer. We may love the music—I still blast “Oblivion” on an almost monthly basis, revisit the strange and compelling world of Art Angels—but it does sometimes feel almost beside the point. Grimes is building a universe, and she’s shedding the strictures that get in the way of that grand vision—the album format, her label, even her own carefully-crafted identity. “Part of what I’m doing is setting up the world-building. Reverse Harry Potter it. Soundtrack comes first, then the fashion, then everything, everything, everything. Then the book, right before I die,” she says, not really joking. Reaching this point of liberation hasn’t been a smooth process. Grimes is unfailingly honest with herself, her own worst critic. But she feels free, she’s happy with what she’s creating, and her ambitions have only grown. We just need to get out of the way and let her dream. 

[pokemaniacal]

Pokémon Moon, Episode 15: In Which I Awkwardly Attempt To Bond With A Strange Girl Of Dubious Usefulness

“I’ll do my best to keep up,” Lillie promises me as we step onto dry land.  “I’ll be fine!  I’ve got Max Repels with me,” she says confidently. “Uh… you know those only repel Pokémon of a lower level than your own, right?” “…oh.  Well… I have you too, right?” “And Nebby,” I point out. “Nebby is still unconscious!” “Yeah, but he’s… like… heavy, right?  You could throw him at people.”  She gives me a shocked look.  “Just spitballing!”  We start walking.  “What level is Nebby, anyway?” “I have no idea…” Lillie answers, a little despondently.  “He’s not actually my Pokémon; he’s just been travelling with me.” “So you’re really not a trainer at all?  Seriously?”  She shakes her head.  “With a mother who runs a huge Pokémon conservation organisation?  And a brother who… well, I mean, he’s a dick but he’s clearly got talent!” “I always wanted to be a scientist, like my mother… I never wanted to travel.  But what happened to Nebby, the way she…” Lillie breaks off, and is silent for a few seconds.  “Pokémon trainers really do amaze me.  It seems like a hard path to walk, and even so, you don’t let yourself be held back by the fear of seeing your Pokémon friends get hurt.  You just keep striving forward together…” “Eh… sometimes you do have to cut and run.  Like, being a trainer means being powerful, and being powerful means you have to do what’s right… well, when it’s convenient, obviously… but it also means you’re responsible for your Pokémon, and when it’s someone else’s skin you’re risking, sometimes the bravest thing you can do is show a bit of basic natural cowardice.  Take hiding from the Aether Foundation, for instance.  The brave thing to do, the noble thing, would have been to go back to Aether Paradise, confront your mother, and demand she take you back and treat Nebby better.  But that would have been stupid, because she would’ve literally fed you to a demon.  Hiding wasn’t the bravest or noblest way you could’ve played that, but it was the way that didn’t get you or Nebby killed.  Cowardice got us both we are today; don’t knock it.”  Lillie listens, nods a couple of times, and falls silent.

We soon arrive at Hapu’s home – an ancient adobe house on Poni Island’s southeast coast – and are greeted first by her Mudsdale, and then by Hapu herself.  After exchanging pleasantries, Lillie gets down to business and asks for directions to the Kahuna… which is when Hapu drops the bombshell that the Seafolk chief was unwilling to.  Apparently there is no Poni Island Kahuna.  There hasn’t been one for years.  You’d think someone (I’m looking at you, Hala) might have mentioned, before sending me off on a quest to defeat four Kahunas, that there were only three of them.  The Island Challenge – an important rite of passage for Alolan Pokémon trainers – has been impossible to complete since the death of Hapu’s grandfather, who was the previous Kahuna.  The island deity Tapu Fini, the Tapu of Hope, just… never appointed a replacement.  I guess it never seemed important?  This is why you should never make legendary Pokémon responsible for human institutions; they have different priorities, operate on radically different timescales, and will occasionally just screw you over without really meaning to.  Human leaders will demand gold, castles and expensive cheese, but at least they’re reliable.  In any case, Hapu apparently does have some kind of plan to get us the help we need, and asks us to meet her at the nearby Ruins of Hope.  Before we can leave, though, an old woman who introduces herself as Hapu’s grandmother offers us one extra little bit of help: another riding Pokémon. “Oh!  Thanks, but… well, Hapu already lets me summon her Mudsdale, so-” “I’m not talking about Mudsdale,” the old woman says, chuckling.  “I’m talking about this.”  A burly Machamp steps up behind her.  I raise my eyebrows. “Uh… how exactly do you ride a…?” “Like this.”  She gives the Machamp a little gesture, and it steps up to me and, before I can react or say anything, sweeps me off my feet and gently cradles me in its lower arms. “Whoa!  Um.  Wow.”  I twist my head around to look at the ground, then up at the Machamp’s face.  It gives a jolly, booming laugh.  “This, uh… you know, I kinda have a dream that starts like this, except in the dream it’s always been a human guy…”

Machamp provides Sun and Moon’s equivalent to the Strength HM, allowing us to move large stone blocks in our path – conveniently, since the entrance to the Ruins of Hope is barred by a series of exactly such blocks.  According to Lillie, Tapu Fini is said to have the power to “wash away all impurities,” and might be able to restore Nebby.  I’m sceptical – the Tapu have no love for Ultra Beasts – but if Lillie wants to give it a shot, whatever.  The ruins are somehow smaller than I was expecting.  There’s no expansive tunnel system filled with wild Pokémon, no obstacles or puzzles beyond the initial sliding block barrier, just an inner chamber with a raised dais.  When Lillie and I enter the room, Hapu is kneeling on the dais, speaking in a quiet, measured voice to a stone statue that I take to be a stylised representation of the Tapu. “I’ve read about them, you know…” Lillie whispers to me.  “Alola’s sacred ruins, and the guardian deities worshipped within.  The books say that they are… well, capricious.  Encounters with them do not always end as you hope.” “Hmph,” I grunt in response.  “Sounds about typical for deities.  Irresponsible bunch of manipulative little twerps.”  Lillie looks at me nervously.  “You heard me.  If Tapu Fini doesn’t like it, it can come out and tell me to my face…” I pause and look around.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Meanwhile, up on the dais, Hapu has raised her voice slightly.  I can tell now that she’s speaking in a very ancient dialect of Alolan, but I can’t understand a word of it.  As her incantation ends, she is enveloped in a halo of golden light.  She reaches out with both hands and takes a small object hanging in the air in front of her, and the light fades.  Hapu clutches the object to her breast and bows her head. “I give my thanks for your great blessing.  I will do my best, for the people and the Pokémon of Alola.”  And just like that, Hapu stands, chosen by her god, the new Kahuna of Poni Island.

“Oh!” she says as she turns and sees us.  “There you are.” “Congratulations on the promotion,” I tell her.  “About time too, by the sound of it.”  Hapu smiles and shakes her head. “These things happen in their own time.  The Kahunas are chosen by the Pokémon we worship from among the people living on each of the islands they watch over.  My grandfather died very suddenly, and, well…” “…you weren’t ready.  But there were no other young trainers on Poni Island with the skill to replace him,” I finish.  She nods. “In the old days, when Poni Island was more populated, there would have been other candidates… I tried to follow in his footsteps, but I was not chosen back then.  So I set out on my own sort of Island Challenge, travelling Alola and trying to grow stronger.”  She looks at me with a hint of envy.  “You must really be something, Chris.  To be given a Sparkling Stone by the Tapu, even as a stranger to our shores.”  I glance down at the Z-Ring Hala made for me on my wrist. “Oh- oh, I’m not looking to take anyone’s position, if that’s what you’re getting at.  One run-in with Tapu Koko is quite enough for me.  Besides, I got the impression Kahuna was a lifetime position?” She chuckles. “It is – usually.  But retirement is possible.  You should consider keeping your options open, if you find you feel like staying in Alola.”  I hesitate. “…I’m fine, thanks.”  Hapu shrugs and turns to Lillie. “Lillie.  The Kahuna you wished to meet is right here.”  Lillie blinks and looks confused for a moment. “Oh!  Oh, yes, of course!  Um.”  She clears her throat.  “Please, then, Kahuna Hapu – tell me about the legendary Pokémon!” As it turns out, Hapu doesn’t know much more about Lunala or the summoning ritual than we do – but she is able to point us to the twin of Lillie’s Sun Flute, which is kept on a shrine on Exeggutor Island, an uninhabited little nothing of a place near the Seafolk Village.  Exactly why the flute is kept there apparently escapes her, but it’s definitely tradition, and if there’s one thing I’m learning about Alolan traditions, it’s that it’s best not to question them in polite company.  She also knows where we can conduct the ritual – the Altar of the Moone, on the island’s northeast coast.  Once we have the Moon Flute, we’re to meet Hapu at the entrance to the Vast Poni Canyon, and travel together to the Altar.

A short ride later, in one of the Seafolk’s damp, rickety Magikarp-styled runabouts, Lillie and I are unceremoniously dumped on Exeggutor Island’s only serviceable jetty.  The island is long and narrow, low and close to the water at the south end, with sheer cliffs rising straight up out of the sea at the north end, and a winding, gently sloping trail connecting the two.  We quickly learn how it got its name: it’s inhabited mainly by Exeggcute and Exeggutor, belonging to a curious Alolan subspecies.  The Exeggcute seem identical to their Kanto cousins, but the Exeggutor have almost comically long necks that sway precipitously in even the slightest breeze… and apparently have Dragon-type abilities.  Because Dragon-types obviously made way too much sense when all we had to deal with was Altaria, Mega Ampharos, Noivern and Goodra. “You.  Cortana McSiri.  Explain,” I tell the Rotomdex. “Zzzzt!  Azz it grew taller and taller, it outgrew its reliance on pzzzychic powers, while within it awakened the power of the zzzleeping dragon!” “You just made that up; that doesn’t make any sense at all.”  The Rotomdex buzzes indignantly, flies into my backpack, and turns itself off.  “Impudent little electronic charlatan,” I mutter.  The Rotomdex bleeps back on, delivers a mild shock to my lower back, then switches off again.  “Hey!  If you keep pulling that kind of $#!t I swear-” “Chris!  Hurry up!” calls Lillie, who has already set off up the path towards the island’s summit.  I shrug and follow her.

As we climb the hill, Lillie and I are caught in a sudden rainstorm, and take shelter beneath a rocky overhang.  After a few minutes of awkwardly staring out into the sheets of water, Lillie attempts to make conversation. “Rain in Alola, huh…” “…that’s your icebreaker?” I ask.  “Literally talking about the weather?”  Lillie glares at me, and for a moment I see Gladion’s piercing eyes in hers.  “…whoa, okay.  You have a talent for that.  You should ask your brother for some pointers some time; I’m convinced he could kill a Donphan by looking at it the wrong way.”  She looks stunned for a moment, then laughs. “My brother… we’ve grown so far apart, but if we can’t save my mother, he’s all I’ll have left…”  She stares out at the rain again.  “This… reminds me of one time, when I was little.  I’d seen it in a movie… this man singing and dancing in the rain.  I had to try it myself.  My mother spotted me out in the rain, and she was so shocked that she ran right out after me without even bothering to get an umbrella.  And then… she smiled… and she danced with me in the rain…”  I frown. “It sounded like she doesn’t have quite the same fond memories of your relationship… what happened?” “I… don’t know.  She just… changed.  All she could think about was the Ultra Beasts… and Null and Nebby both ended up suffering so much.  And I couldn’t do anything.”  I frown again. “There’s a lot of things that can change a person.  Despair, hunger for power, conviction in a cause you thought was more important than anything… to be honest, legendary Pokémon can f&%# with your brain pretty hard too; I’ve seen all of the above.  All at once, in some cases…” “Do… do you think we can save her?” “Honestly?  I have absolutely no idea.  The last guy I can think of who went through something similar to your mother… well, I don’t really know where he went, but he’s definitely not coming back.”  Lillie’s face falls, and she is silent for a while. “What are you going to do once you finish your island challenge?” she asks eventually. “What I came to Alola to do in the first place.  Hit the beach!  I’m gonna need a holiday to recover from this holiday…” “Is that all?” she prods. “…well,” I say slowly.  “There’s… this guy.”  Lillie looks puzzled for a second, then understands. “Oh!  Ohhhh, you mean… there’s this guy.” “…exactly.” “Alola’s a nice place for it,” Lillie points out.  “People always say this region is one of the most romantic settings in the world…”  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I read the brochures too.  But… well, the last time I saw him, I… kinda treated him badly, and…” “I see…” A sudden look of comprehension crosses Lillie’s face.  “Wait, we aren’t talking about Hau, are we?”  I blink and nearly fall over backwards in shock. “Wh- what?  No!  No, god no!  Just… wow.  No.”  I shudder involuntarily.  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s really sweet and all, but… god no.”  Lillie raises her eyebrows.  “No, seriously, Hau is… look, he’s a great guy, in his own random and incoherent way, but he’s… more like a little brother to me.  A really, really annoying little brother.”  I shake my head.  “No.” “…I think the sun is coming out.” “Oh, thank Arceus.” It turns out we were already quite close to the hilltop.  At the highest point on the island, a simple stone shrine prominently displays the thing we came for: a flute, intricately carved, coated with pristine blue lacquer, and bearing a crescent moon symbol. “Now we have both flutes!” Lillie exclaims. “Don’t get too excited,” I tell her.  “That was the easy part.” “I don’t know if it will really summon the legendary Pokémon, but we can at least try!  If nothing else, we’ll have sounded the flutes in offering, just like people used to do.”  I shrug. “I guess it is a once in a lifetime sightseeing opportunity…”

Back on Poni Island, we return to Hapu’s home and turn north, towards the entrance of the canyon.  The terrain is harsh and dry – I can see why so few humans choose to live here, and how the only ones who do might become skilled and tenacious Pokémon trainers.  Equally unsurprising is how few of the tourist brochures choose to put Poni Island front and centre…  Suddenly, Lillie grabs my arm, interrupting my musing, and points ahead at the trail leading into the canyon.  The path is blocked by half a dozen Team Skull grunts… including B.  Lillie and I exchange cautious glances and approach them.  Lillie decides to open the conversation. “You’re from Team Skull.  What is it that you want from us?”  B looks right at me for a few seconds, then back at Lillie and speaks to her. “We heard about what you numskulls got up to at Aether.  Do you really know a way to save our boy Guzma!?” “Um… well, we- that is, we’re trying to-” Lillie stammers. “We might.  Why do you care?” I ask. “Tell us!  Now!” one of the other grunts yells.  I look at her and raise one eyebrow. “Or what?”  B gives her a warning glare, but she’s already rushing forward, hurling a Pokéball. “We can make you talk, even if we have to cut you to the bone!”  Her Pokémon, a Fomantis, materialises between us.  I sigh theatrically and flick at one of my own Pokéballs with a finger.  A few seconds later, my Decidueye is standing over the unconscious Fomantis.  He hoots smugly, takes a bow, and returns to his Pokéball. “Where were we?”  The grunt stares in shock for a few seconds, then recalls her Fomantis and runs off.  B ignores her and addresses me. “If anyone’s goin’ after Guzma, it’s gotta be us.  You tell us the way; it’s only just!”  The other grunts nod and murmur their approval. “Lillie and I have in our possession a pair of flutes that may – and I stress may – allow us to conduct a summoning ritual for a legendary Pokémon capable of pursuing your boss and the President of the Aether Foundation to… wherever it is they’ve gone.  Now-” “So hand over the flutes, li’l homeslice!” he interrupts. “Even if you had the necessary archaeological knowledge to perform the ritual correctly… which frankly I doubt… you know I can’t possibly entrust a power like Lunala’s to a group like yours.  Um.  No offence.” “Yo, that ain’t fair!” B protests.  “We ain’t what you think!”  I look at him quizzically. “Why do you even want Guzma back?  From what I’ve seen, he treats all of you like garbage.”  Several of the grunts shift their weight awkwardly. “You wouldn’t understand,” B says, looking at his feet. “Try me.”  He shakes his head. “…Guzma’s… he ain’t always been a great boss and all, and sure he could be a bit more chill, but…” “…he’s like family,” Lillie suggests.  B looks at her quietly for a few seconds. “Yeah.  Team Skull’s the only family what most of us’ve got.  You’re the Prez’s daughter, right?  You gotta see why we have to do this.”  I search his eyes, and see no hint of deception. “You feel responsible for him.” “If I’da helped you out the other day… if we’da held Guzma back…” “He wouldn’t have gone with Lusamine; I see your point…” I finish.  “Listen, we’re mostly looking for the President.  But if it’s that important to you, we’ll see if we can find Guzma on the way.  Now, if you don’t mind-” “That ain’t good enough!” B shouts, stamping his foot.  “I’m comin’ with y’all!” “What?  B, we-” “Sure!” Lillie proclaims brightly.  I spin around to look at her. “What?” “It can’t hurt!” “It can hurt!  I- I can’t guarantee his safety; it’s bad enough I have to look out for your stately backside, and –” “Wait,” Lillie interrupts.  “Wait a minute.”  She looks back over at B, and points at him.  “Is this…?” “Yes,” the other grunts chorus, rolling their eyes in unison.  B turns bright pink. “Why shouldn’t he come with us, Chris?” “I- but- I- I told you why-” “I’ll battle you!” B blurts.  “To prove I ain’t gonna slow you down!  To prove I’m hard enough!” “Oh, don’t you start that $#!t again-” “Well, I think you should do it,” Lillie says.  “You did say you had something to make up for…” “What?  I didn’t-” “Zzzt!  I’m with her on thizzz one, boss!” the Rotomdex buzzes from inside my backpack. “Nobody asked you, you malfunctioning audiobook!” I shout over my shoulder. “Yo, we doin’ this!?” B demands, his hand by his Pokéballs. “I liked you better when I thought you were evil,” I tell Lillie with a glare, and step forward to fight B.

To B’s credit, he’s been practicing.  Not only has his roster swelled to five Pokémon with the addition of a Raticate and a Mareanie, they’re strong enough to give mine pause for thought.  Still, with mostly Poison-types on his team, he has trouble fighting back against my Psychu meaningfully after my Toucannon blows up his Raticate.  A few minutes later, we stand victorious once again. “I’m not giving up, even though you beat me!” he shouts defiantly.  “I’m part of Team Skull!  We’re thick as anything!”  I open my mouth to retort, but stop myself. “…not going to take the easy comeback; it’s beneath me.” “That’s enough,” says a familiar voice from behind me and Lillie.  I turn around – and see Plumeria. “…oh, hi, Plumeria!” I start, as brightly as I can manage.  “Please don’t kill me.”  She stares daggers into my skull for a few seconds.  I gulp audibly. “Hmph.”  She turns to Lillie.  “You, girlie… Lillie, right?  You really ready to do this finally?”  Lillie says nothing, but nods.  “To be honest, I’ve treated you really badly.  I guess it’s probably to late to apologise now, though.”  She pauses for a second.  Lillie says nothing.  Plumeria shakes her head and continues.  “But look… Guzma… he really likes the President, you know?  She’s the only one who ever seemed to understand how strong he was.”  Lillie looks back at her sadly. “The President… my mother is- she’s selfish.  She lavishes her love only on those she deems worthy.  But I will save her.  We will save her.”  She glances at me.  “I still have something I need to tell her.  And…” her gaze flicks to B for a moment, “I think I can save Guzma as well.”  Plumeria follows Lillie’s eyes to B, then grunts and looks back to Lillie again. “You know… deep down, you’re kind of like the President.”  Lillie’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth to protest, but Plumeria cuts her off.  “In a good way.  You’ve gone in a different direction, but I can tell you have the same strength in your convictions.  Bring Guzma back if you can.  No one can make up for what they’ve done if they’re gone.”  Lillie nods. “I’ll do what I can.”  Plumeria turns to B. “So.  Looks like you were special after all, kid.  Standing up to be a leader in Team Skull.  You’re the real deal.  The realest Pokémon trainer we’ve had in a while.”  He blinks a couple of times. “Um.  Thanks, sis.” “Take good care of our little princess here, okay?  And…” she stops for a moment, as if to think, then nods to herself.  “Take this.”  She tosses B a small purple crystal.  “It’s Poisonium-Z.  I know you don’t have much use for it now, but… someday.”  She turns to me, and says nothing for fifteen solid seconds, just glaring a burning hole in my forehead.  Finally, she speaks, in the friendliest, most casual tone I’ve ever heard her use. “If B doesn’t come back in one piece, then Pokémon or no Pokémon, I will flay every square inch of your body and feed what’s left of you to the Sharpedo.”  A single high-pitched squeak escapes my throat as Plumeria signals to the other grunts, then spins on her heel and stalks off.

The team:

Tane the Decidueye Male, Timid nature, Overgrow ability Level 45 Steel Wing, Leaf Blade, Synthesis, Spirit Shackle

Rhea the Toucannon Female, Lax nature, Keen Eye ability Level 44 Bullet Seed, Roost, Beak Blast, Brick Break

Ashley the Psychu Female, Timid nature, Surge Surfer ability Level 44 Discharge, Hidden Power (Ice), Nasty Plot, Psychic

Joanna the Salazzle Female, Timid nature, Corrosion ability Level 44 Flamethrower, Nasty Plot, Sludge Bomb, Toxic

Sigourney the Golisopod Female, Careful nature, Emergency Exit ability Level 44 Brick Break, Payback, First Impression, Leech Life

Zygarde Genderless, Sassy nature, Aura Break ability Level 40 Safeguard, Stone Edge, Dragon Dance, Thousand Arrows

[enravel-blog]

meanwhile, in salt lake: who will mummify whom?

We take our coffee in the mummification room. Ron, a professorial salesman, regally crosses one leg over the other. He’s a harmless but incendiary sexagenarian, an up-rolled-sleeves raconteur.  His silent counterpart Bernie is a bit younger, swathed in an army-green sweater the size of a dirigible and palming loose change somewhere inside of it. There’s a hidden slink of ten nickels while a thick chemistry slides down my throat. Ron says, “That formula you smell is our trade secret. It has an extremely small molecule. If I put a drop on your finger you’ll taste it within 30 seconds.” I resist the deep urge to request a sample. The pair seems capable of soft-selling me my own death.

Next door in the pyramid, Montu, newly dead, calls out from the altar. His blue parrot body is tucked into a Tupperware container with a motion-sensing device, which has a recording of him saying his own name. Ofrenda, cage trinkets and birdseed, earthly glees he left behind, are laid out. White plush carpets the 27-foot-high copper pyramid oriented true north next to a highway underpass. The vaulted ceiling is a galaxy of vaguely Egyptian icons. There are white leather sofas and, to my delight and fear, a Panasonic camera on tripod next to a steel pasteurization tank.

Ron and Bernie are going to mummify Montu when he’s procedurally ready for transference. His future state dots the room in a collection of dignified mummiform pets, including a standard gold poodle, a Doberman named Butch, and several stray cats.

How sure, we have to wonder, are Ron and Bernie, leaning over the long table to start each fresh evisceration, that a neighbor isn’t missing a calico? They seem like the kind of folks who might embalm anything that strolls past the live peacock in the yard.

I send my friend the pyramid’s address. If I don’t circle back this afternoon, she could go ahead and call over to the Salt Lake City authorities, tell them I had an appointment at Summum.

Like name suggests, Ron and Bernie practice the sum total of all religions. As Ron leans back in a rolling office chair and constellates dogma across continents, languages, time—he’s clearly spent whole days in certain Santa Monica bookstores— he takes luxurious nasal in-breaths between string theorizing Greco-Roman archetypes and meditation rituals. He scatter plots the mechanics of all beliefs about consciousness onto one another in a very logical story of the impossibility of their singularity. In Hermeticism, all religions flower from one true theology. As above, so below, and back again. With Ron as guide I envision the flagship Summums at the mouth of the new age, gathered round a dish of lavender crystals, asking what comes first. They’re asking how to revere and shatter a charge simultaneously. Bernie has yet to speak, while Ron is wrapping up somewhere near Joseph Campbell and pure math. 

In the mummification room (where Montu will join us shortly) pet bodies wait with looped rubber hoses and neat rows of metal tools. This chrysalis lab of lanolin, gauze and resin, down the street from a Panera and the Church of Latter Day Saints, is also where Bernie keeps the books. Summum requests and accepts donations, in the several thousands, for pet mummification services. 

“Let me show you something,” Ron says, as we cross the yard and he hand-cranks open a garage door on the pyramid. June light falls onto Corky Ra's fifteen-hundred-pound gold sarcophagus. “We mummified him ourselves,” Bernie says nostalgically of Summum’s founder. We gaze at the towering Corky and Ron moves an empty wine bottle behind the sofa.

“Corky could walk through walls. His favorite word was consider,” Ron begins, the word in his mouth like a macaroon. We sit in the comfortable leather sofas and Bernie takes a corner of the pyramid. Ron would have made an excellent academic or bible peddler. 

Romanticism, idolizing the hero, leads to nationalism. To borders, walls.

“In 1975, Corky was doing his relaxations in his basement den when a sound, which came for several months as a ringing in his ears, began to move to the center of his mind. The next thing he knew he was transported to a pyramid and was speaking with divine extracelestial beings, totally different mind you from extraterrestrials, who expressed soundlessly to him that they were the Summa, the highest Individuals who exist on all planes within the different universes that are going on right now.”

In a first-person zine Corky later penned about the encounter, he writes: “I had never seen such extremely attractive people before.” See Corky sprawled in astral gel on a clay floor, jetlagged from interdimensional flight, entranced by androgynous cheekbones. Divine lips are delivering seven ancient principles to an anxious Mormon.

“No, no no, the Mormon church was definitely not happy with master Corky,” Ron says. At the word master I scan the room. “But he had to break from them. He was the appointed catalyst, the new Moses. A messenger comes along every so often when the brew is just right, and they of course then have to take the hero’s journey.”

When he got back to his basement Corky rewrote the Kybalion, an existing 1908 text hinging on the idea that everything happens as a result of one’s mental state. He kept the book’s main principles: vibration (everything is in motion), the rhythm in motion swings between opposites (to every cause an effect), and gender is a mental state not connected to physical sex. The only thing he added, based on what the Summa told him, was the principle of Creation: nothing and possibility come in and out of bond infinite times in a finite moment.

“Montu, hi Montu!” the dead bird calls out. Bernie is walking past the altar to join us on the frothy penthouse sofa, where I’ve spread my belongings into a purposeful moat around my body. I take the break in Ron’s portraiture to admire the milk silo and video setup.

“The camera is for Summum TV. We broadcast meditations on the internet,” Ron says without elaboration. “And we use the tank to ferment wine, which becomes nectars, or publications of consciousness. We imbue them with different meditative vibrations, like sexual ecstasy and such, the way the Catholic church transmutes wine with the blood of Christ and then they can give it to children, to anybody, and not get into trouble.”

Ron and Bernie don’t keep membership records, but based on the number of wine nectars they’ve distributed, they assume about 250,000 people have received Summum.

Bernie, like the night-blooming cereus sometimes called Christ in the Manger or Princess of the Night, opens now.

“I consider Corky a contemporary of Buddha or Jesus, or Osho, any of these masters. He was hard. He wouldn’t cut you any slack. He would call you out, get way down in there to the motivations going on behind the things we do. Corky took honesty to a level that most people couldn’t deal with.”

I ask him to tell me about the first time they met.

“I was coming out of a screening of Close Encounters of the Third Kind and there was a business card on my windshield with a note that said, I’ve been in touch with advanced beings and I present on it at the University of Utah.” 

“Corky believed that the mummification process is crucial to stewarding the transference of the spirit when the body retires. When you’re going to make a journey, you can prepare for that journey, like arrangements for a trip. You’re going to find yourself in very weird surroundings when you die. But if you are being mummified, people are going to be communicating to you, saying, ‘You’ve passed away. You’ll be seeing weird things now, but just relax, be calm. We’re going to read to you your spiritual will, something you wrote when you were alive. It will help guide you. We’re going to be taking care of you.’ And the preserved body is very important. It guides you from this address to the next one.”

Ron, who was a ski buddy of Corky’s, adds, “Plus your spirit can come back to that body any time for information. If I take your body down to the crematorium”— he mentions his day-job as a funeral director--“if I burn your body up, it’s gone. It makes it a little bit more difficult.” 

In the eighties, when grooming in general reached new heights, Corky was conditioning Ron for mortuary school in California. To date, Corky is the only human that Summum has mummified.

“When Ron and I are mummified, Corky says he’ll be there on the other side to help with the transition,” Bernie says.

Who will mummify whom?

“We’ll mummify each other,” they both say.

Mathematically, two quantities are in the Golden Ratio if their ratio is the same as the ratio of their sum to the larger of the two quantities. Everyone in the pyramid is calculating. We come in and out of bond infinite times. It begins to feel like a lovers’ spat.

“Who knows though honestly, I’m the oldest out of everybody, I’m the ancient dog around here,” Ron says, and Bernie starts in, “I mean you never know what can happen, I could get hit by a bus or whatever. As long as I’m not smooshed all over the place and you have something to work with.”

“What-ever. Either way,” Ron says generously, “at some point in time we’ll all die, and there will be a choice. It’s each individual soul’s right to take their boat wherever they want. Creation is going to give you your heart’s desire, it doesn’t really matter what it is, but at some point you won’t have desires, and you’re able to walk away from this life and move on down the river.”

We’re standing in front of the altar. Montu’s batteries are on the fritz, as if he’s gotten the message and has moved on. 

Ron says, “Anyway, that’s an old story Corky told us a long time ago.”