#not that great with numbers or formulas. probably not that great at writing either. nor am i as eloquent as i'd like to be ～

[salsflore]

going to sleep soon ～ let me get some things off my chest here.... my eyes are super itchy again (fell into the trap of snuggling my cat even when i swore i wouldn't do it again)

[davidmann95]

now that it's over, thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole?

pretenderoftheeast said: So, thoughts on Bendis' Superman and Action Comics' tenure altogether and separately now that it's over?

Anonymous said: Best and Worst things about Bendis' Superman run

Anonymous said: Now that it is over, what are your thoughts on Bendis' runs on Superman and Action Comics as a whole?

Anonymous said: Retrospective thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole now that it's, I guess, done?

Anonymous said: Hey so since Bendis’ Superman stuff seems to be done, what did you think of the run as a whole?

I decided to hold off a bit on writing on this one, if only so that I could reread the Action Comics side of it since Superman stood out in my memory a lot more. But now I have, and as we’re heading into a bold new era of Superman (and it’s coming in fast - just since I made my Superman in 2021 predictions we’ve gotten Ed Pinsent finally reprinting his legendary bootleg Silver Age Superman, Steve Orlando announcing his Superman analogue book Project Patron, an official shonen Superman redesign for RWBY/Justice League, PKJ’s Super-debut turning out far better than I ever expected, Superman & Lois’s first proper trailer largely taking people pleasantly by surprise, and my learning that there’s a Sylvester Stallone Old Man Superman analogue movie titled Samaritan coming out this summer) we’re ready to take a look back with at least a touch of perspective. I’ll lead with complaints, so everybody who’s been waiting for me to say that Bendis on Superman was Bad, Actually, savor this because it’s as close as you’ll get.

The Bad

* I hate to say it, but rereading that side of the run there’s no two ways about it: the structure of Action Comics as a whole is a mess. It baffled me from day one that it was the more acclaimed of the two books for so long - I guess people are hardwired at this point to think of ‘street’ stuff as where Bendis is supposed to be - because it was immediately clear that Superman had a well-defined story he wanted to tell, while Action was the usual Bendis off-the-cuff improvisation. It’s barely even a story in the same way, and it’s certainly not the ‘Metropolis crime book’ people took it as: it’s 28 issues of Superman and his supporting cast stuffed a pinball machine with the Red Cloud pinging off of each other as we wait to see who falls in the hole at the bottom, and partway through Leviathan and the Legion of Doom and 90s Superboy are tossed into the mix to keep it going a little longer. On an issue-to-issue basis it’s frequently really good, but the core plot of the book is *maybe* six issues stretched out over two and a half years.

* I’ve gone into this some before, but structure-wise Unity Saga also has problems: Phantom Planet rules but either it needed to be cut or the back half needed to be a year all its own in order to accommodate the scale of what it’s attempting. It’s got an interstellar civil war leading into the formation of the United Planets, family drama, Rogol Zaar’s whole deal, and Jon’s coming of age, and I’d say only that last one is really properly served. Even Jon forming the United Planets, while contextually somewhat justified in terms of 1. The situation being so far gone he’s the only one who’d even think in those terms, 2. Things being bad enough that these assorted galactic powers would be willing to try it, and 3. Him having the S on his chest to sell it, isn’t at all built up to within the run itself.

* Rogol Zaar sucks. He’s made up of nothing but interesting ideas - he’s an ersatz warrior ‘superman’ of a bygone age of empires up against the new model, he’s the sins of Krypton as a conservative superpower come home to roost, he’s while not outright said to be definitely Superman’s tragic half-brother and the culmination of everything this run does with Jor-El - but none of them manifest on the page, he’s just a big punchy dude with a dumb design who screams about how you should take him seriously because he’s totally the one who blew up Krypton. Even a killer redesign by Ryan Sook for Legion of Superheroes can’t fix that. There are lots of bad villains with good ideas who are redeemed with time and further effort, but I can’t imagine Zaar getting that TLC to become a fraction of whatever Bendis envisioned him as.

* The second year of Action Comics, after establishing itself in its first as one of the most consistently gorgeous books on the stands, leads with Szymon Kudranski’s weak output and then concludes with John Romita Jr. turning in some career-worst work. The latter is particularly egregious because for that first year Bendis writes a really collected, gentle Superman so him getting pushed into being more aggressive should have an impact, but Romita draws such a craggy rough-looking Superman in the first place that it mutes any sort of shock value.

 * WE NEVER LEARN WHAT’S UP WITH LEONE’S CAR, WHAT THE HELL. You don’t just DROP THAT IN THERE and then NEVER FOLLOW UP.

The Good

* Superman got his real clothes back after 7 truly ridiculous years.

* Bendis fundamentally gets Clark’s voice in a way unlike almost any other writer - even all-around better writers of the character almost never approach how spot-on he is with having Superman speak and act exactly how Superman should.

* Supporting cast front and center! He writes a dynamite Lois, Perry, and Jimmy (even if many of Lois’s more out-there decisions in the run don’t end up retroactively justified the way you’d hope), Ma and Pa are more fun than they’ve been in decades in their brief appearances, he manages to turn having Jor-El in the mix into a positive, and the Daily Planet as a whole has an incredibly distinctive vibe to it like never before that I hope is taken as a baseline going forward.

* The non-Rogol Zaar baddies? All ruled. Invisible Mafia and Red Cloud are both brilliant ideas executed solidly if overextended. Zod as Kryptonian Vegeta, Mongul as a generational perpetual bastard engine primed to be incapable of self-reflection, and Ultraman as “what if Irredeemable but he’d never been a good guy and also he was a Jersey mobster” are the best versions of those characters by numberless light-eons. Lex is on-point in his sparse appearances. Xanadoth as a mystical cosmic monster older than time who still talks like a Bendis character is however unintentionally a hoot. The alt-universe Parasite is a more intimidating Doomsday than Doomsday ever was. And Synmar as an alien culture’s attempt at creating their own Superman and messing up the formula when they make him a soldier can and should be a legitimate major ongoing villain coming out of this run.

* Pretty much all the art other than what I mentioned already. Fabok does a good job bookending The Man of Steel and Ivan Reis does the work of his career anchoring Superman (special props to Reis as well for drawing the first ever non-Steve Rude interesting-looking take on Metropolis), and meanwhile you’ve got Jim Lee, Jose Luis Garcia Lopez, Doc Shaner, Steve Rude, Kevin Maguire, Adam Hughes, Patrick Gleason, Yanick Paquette, Ryan Sook, Brandon Peterson, and David Lafuente doing their own parts.

* Closely related to the art, all the little flourishes with the powers. Super-speed having a consistent visual with the background coloring changing, Clark internally putting numbers to the degrees of force behind his punches and what situations which numbers are appropriate for, ‘skidding to a halt’ mid-flight before crashing through a window, the shonen-ass major throwdowns as portrayed by Reis, how his super-hearing is handled as a prevalent element. Lots of clever bits that added flavor to what he does.

* While Unity Saga has problems, the whole of what Bendis does in Superman as a means of forward momentum for Clark and his world is excellent. The sort of three-act structure of: 

** Clark is led to question his place in things over the course of a few adventures

** Involvement in the larger cosmos and the impact it has had through and on his family makes him realize the answer to his questions is that he needs to step up in a bigger way because there’s no benevolent larger universe to welcome Earth with open arms, nor a cosmic precedent for everything turning out for the best without some help

** As a consequence of the lessons learned by this change in the status quo Clark is inspired to make his own personal change in revealing his identity (with Mythological basically being an epilogue showcasing a ‘standard’ standalone Superman adventure while simultaneously highlighting his new status quo and how it fits in as a summing-up of Bendis’s take)

…does a great job of shepherding through ideas that lend a lot of forward momentum to Superman of the kind he hasn’t seen in a long time. Not perfect, but far lesser stories with far lesser ambitions have made huge impacts, so I’d certainly hope at least some of this sticks around even if, say, regardless of any retcons to the main line there are always going to be stories with Clark as a disguise and Jon as a kid. Oh, speaking of whom,

* KISS MY ASS, EVERYTHING WITH JON KENT RULED

Ahem. Probably a less confrontational way of putting that.

Do I think there was more gas in the tank for Jon as a kid? Totally, making him likeable and viable was the one really good thing the Rebirth era accomplished for Superman and I expect we’ll continue seeing more of it in the future one way or another. But whether or not him being aged up was Bendis’s decision, or working with marching orders to set up the eventually-(kinda-)discarded 5G, the coming of age narrative here is fire. He keeps the essential Clark Kent kindness and bit of Lois Lane cheekiness that reminds you he’s still their kid, which is a combination Bendis is basically precision-crafted to write, but his trials by fire give him a background entirely unlike the by-the-numbers “and here’s how Superman’s great kid grew up to be a great superhero too” narrative you’d expect while still arriving at that endpoint. If superheroes live and die by metaphors then Jon in here is what it means to grow up written as large as possible: leaving home for the first time (and seeming to shoot up overnight!), getting into the muck of how the real world works, being beaten down by authority wearing faces you’ve been taught to trust, scrambling to get through with the whole world against you, and in the end getting through by learning to rely on your own strength while keeping your soul intact and your head held high, and even managing to speak some truth to power. It gives him a well-defined life story with room to go back to and explore the intricacies of each leg of for decades to come in a way Superman hasn’t had since the original Crisis - someone someday is going to write a The Life & Times Of The Son Of Superman miniseries and it’s going to be one of the greats - and negates any question that he’s earned his stature as the heir apparent.

* Coming out of this, Superman’s world is fascinating. He’s out but rather than giving up his day-to-day life he’s openly spending part of his life as CLARK KENT: SUPER-REPORTER and part of his job on the cape-and-tights side of things is now KAL-EL: SUPER-SPACE-DIPLOMAT, Lois Lane coruns a foundation helping people whose personal continuities have been fucked over by Crisis shenanigans, Jimmy Olsen owns the Daily Planet but is still doing Jimmy Olsen stuff because that’s how he gets his kicks, and Jon Kent is going to college in the future. I’m not anywhere near naïve enough to think that’s how things are going to be forever, or shortsighted enough to think there’s no value left in the traditional setups, but god I hope these developments stick around for a long, long time to come and potentially become the new ‘normal’ as far as the ongoing shared universe stuff goes, because it all feels like the right and promising next steps to take for the lives of these characters. However it got here, for all the pluses and minuses along the way even if I maintain the former very much outweighed the latter as a reading experience, Bendis has a lot to be proud of if that’s the legacy he leaves on these titles.

* The recap pages at the desks!

[lifeonashelf]

COLDPLAY

Let’s get this straight right off the bat: Coldplay is fucking terrible.

We all know this. Designating Coldplay as terrible isn’t a statement of personal opinion, it is an easily demonstrable fact. Just listen to them; Coldplay’s music proves the existence of Coldplay’s terribleness the same way that breathing proves the existence of oxygen. Surely, even the band’s staunchest supporters understand that their songs are pretentious, monotonous, and unimaginative—they’d kind of have to; I assume these people have listened to Coldplay, too. If you like music as superfluous as Coldplay’s, that’s totally fine. I’m not here to tell you that you shouldn’t, nor to convince you to stop listening to Coldplay (you can’t stop listening to them, anyway; no matter how hard you try to escape, wherever you go, Coldplay will find you). But they are unequivocally fucking awful, and I need to make that clear before we continue in case I end up saying anything courteous about them later. And, who knows? I may indeed find something positive to say about Coldplay—I mean, nothing comes to mind right now, but it’s going to take me a few hours to write this piece so it’s possible something will at some point.  

Okay, so we’re all clear on Coldplay being fucking terrible, right? Great. But that isn’t the main reason I hate them. I appreciate plenty of terrible bands just as I appreciate plenty of terrible movies. Listening to a really shitty group is sort of like watching a cast of really shitty actors—though they clearly suck at what they do, there’s something oddly appealing about the charming naiveté they demonstrate by giving it the best go they can anyway.

For instance, since I was still filing most of my Warped Tour emo discs in my punk section when I began this venture, I never got around to writing about a band called Adair. If you’re not familiar with them, don’t worry about it; they only existed for a few years in the mid-aughts and their diminutive discography merely consists of a self-released EP and one full-length album, The Destruction Of Everything Is The Beginning Of Something New. Sonically, Adair were so amusingly prototypical of every baby t-shirt screamo band that was thriving at the time, they essentially sounded like they were parodying the style of music they played (although, to be fair, a lot of those squads did). But, Adair were absolutely serious, regardless of what stridently nasal heights the vocals reached, regardless of how faithfully their compositions adhered to their genre’s textbook page by page, and regardless of the sublimely ridiculous realms some of their allegorical angst lamentations ventured into (the line “lock me up in Guantanamo Bay and throw away the key” from the song “I Buried My Heart In Cosmo Park” may very well be the lyrical apex of their entire genus).

Adair’s music is so inane that it makes me laugh out loud when I sing along to it—but here’s the thing: I do sing along to it. I have probably played The Destruction Of Everything Is The Beginning Of Something New a hundred times from start to finish since my copy was sent to me to review for some website back in 2006, and I have cued up individual high(low?)points like “The Diamond Ring” and “Folding and Unfolding” even more times than that. As silly as they sound—and trust me, they sound very fucking silly—I still sincerely enjoy their tunes and have spent enough hours listening to TDOEITBOSN for it to possibly qualify as one of my favorite records ever. Shit, even writing about it right now makes me feel like hearing the disc, so I’ll probably end up blasting it in my truck tomorrow (ed. note: I actually did). If they ever decided to do a reunion tour, I would absolutely go see them, and if vocalist Rob Tweedie did that whole “hold the microphone out toward the crowd so they can finish the lyric” thing which every frontman in every band that sounds like Adair does at least a dozen times per show, I would totally be able to fill in each of those blanks and enthusiastically do so.

Sorry, we were talking about Coldplay. To recap, they’re fucking terrible.

Unlike a frivolous whimper-core ensemble like Adair, the most off-putting thing about Coldplay isn’t their music. They’ve actually managed to excrete a few tracks that I grudgingly enjoy over the years. However, sporadically releasing songs which don’t sound like they were specifically written for Gap commercials actually works against Coldplay in this instance. Sure, most of their output is noxious twaddle, but since they occasionally come across as a marginally decent band, their work isn’t awful enough to at least ironically appreciate it for being awful.

In fact, there’s absolutely nothing ironic about Coldplay—other than U2 and Radiohead (more on them in a minute), I can’t think of another band that seems to take itself as dreadfully seriously as Coldplay does. There isn’t a single lighthearted number in their entire catalog, and the demeanor of their music is so staid and cheerless that it’s hard to imagine the dudes ever cracking a smile while they’re making it. Their approach to songwriting is rigidly Pavlovian—when the music gets louder, ring ring ring, that signals the listener the *really* poignant part of the tune has arrived and cues them to emotionally salivate in kind—yet despite their calculated use of sonic dynamics to manufacture sentiment, the vapid and unspontaneous nature of the delivery saps their tunes of anything resembling genuine soul or passion. Even when thrusting through the more energetic tracks in their litany, the musicians in Coldplay always sound like they’re actively striving to not play their instruments too hard. The result is that they consistently deliver some of the safest and least edgy rock ever created, shaping their ethos around a formula so willfully tepid and cuddly that they barely qualify as a rock band at all. Coldplay aren’t quite the musical equivalent of plain yogurt (that would be Jack Johnson, an artist so comprehensively flavorless that even his name is fucking boring) but the granola in their mixture is always judiciously distributed so as not to agitate anyone’s tastebuds.

And at the center of this slow-motion kaleidoscope, you have Chris fucking Martin (I find it difficult to cite his name without including the “fucking” in there; he’s just one of those guys—like Jason fucking Mraz, Blake fucking Shelton, or fucking Bono). Coldplay’s music may be stagnant, but you’d never know it from beholding the practiced arsenal of slinky paroxysms their vocalist bursts into while that music is playing. In performance and in their videos, Martin’s appendages are incessantly in motion, his hands ever-swaying gently through the air like he’s waving a pair of invisible cigarette lighters or finger painting on the goddamn sky, ostensibly so deeply lost in his band’s reverie of sound that he simply can’t help himself from moving his body in a cadenced pantomime of the way their music is meant to superficially move your spirit.

For the three non-ballads the group has written in their career, Chris usually switches things up by crouching in an incongruous bobbing panther-stance like a battle rapper delivering a diss track about fucking his opponent’s mama in the mouth, until it’s time to freeze in the tried and true messiah-statue pose as the number’s final notes chime into the ether. But it is in the quiet moments when Martin truly shines—which makes perfect sense given that he’s the leader of a group so systematically anodyne they probably should have actually named themselves Quiet Moments. These are the obligatory interims where the frontman takes the stage on his own to sit down at the piano, resplendent in the spotlight, and perform an intimate solo rendition of one of his most tender hits to show everyone in the audience that Chris fucking Martin is a bonafide fucking musician who, if he really felt like it, could totally do the whole Coldplay thing without the other three dudes whose names no one knows. His soaring falsetto croon is custom-feigned for the arenas the band was destined to coldplay from the moment they dropped their breakthrough single “Yellow” and caused a nation of book-sensitive sociology majors eagerly anticipating the arrival of their generation’s U2 to cream their Dockers in unison. When Martin opens his pipes to summon those indelibly contrived choruses about birds and stars and other monosyllabic nouns, it hardly even matters what words he’s singing—the leitmotifs in most of the tunes are basically interchangeable anyway. What matters is that Chris sounds like he really, really, really means it when he says he will try to fix you.

That analysis probably makes it seem like I hate Chris fucking Martin as much as I hate his band. I actually don’t—he’s too benign a character to elicit such a fervid response; hating Chris Martin is like hating turtleneck sweaters, or actual turtles. In fact, I suspect he’s probably a really nice dude.  At least, I’ve never heard any creepy stories about him showing his penis to under-aged fans on Skype or anything like that.

Regardless, while I don’t specifically despise either Martin, Dude Who Plays Guitar, or the other two anonymous members of Coldplay, I do gauge their collective as the fourth or fifth worst band of all time. And the reason I loathe them more than any of their neighbors on that list is because they aren’t the kind of prodigiously abysmal group you can just ignore until their moment in the spotlight inevitably passes—which is how I dealt with Five For Fighting from September 2001 through February 2002 and how I’ve been dealing with Twenty-One Pilots for the last four years (seriously, are you fuckers done yet?). Coldplay is a far cagier nuisance because they are massively popular and have been for a ludicrously long time. I’ve been patiently waiting for them to go away for two decades now, yet they continue to pop up every third summer or so to drop a new album and remind us that, yes, they’re still here assiduously mining the middle of the road for new ways to write more tunes about clouds being pretty.

Even worse, I can’t disregard their music because it’s everywhere. I hear “The Scientist” while I’m shopping for cereal at the grocery store, I hear “Talk” when I sit down to eat at any chain restaurant, and I imagine I’ll be viewing that idiotic video for “Adventure of a Lifetime” with the posse of animated dancing monkeys on an infinite Clockwork-Orange-eyes-gaping loop for the rest of eternity when my mortal essence exits this world and I am cast into the fiery pits of Hell. I can’t even watch football without encountering Coldplay, as I discovered with horror in 2016 when they took part in the most fatuous jumbled fucking mess of a Super Bowl halftime show the NFL had ever presented (a zenith of suckery which seemed impossible to eclipse until this past February, when Adam Levine showed up covered with prison tattoos and said, “hold my beer”).

The pervasive level of esteem Coldplay has reached dumbfounds me. This is a group that has sold millions and millions of albums worldwide, even though I have never once heard a single person utter the phrase, “man, that new Coldplay song kicks ass.” I’m sure their most dedicated fans have favorite hits, tracks that are significant to them in some way, etc. But their remarkable success is patently disproportionate to how patently unremarkable the work which garnered that success really is. Nobody ever describes the band’s music as “awesome”, just as nobody ever describes a glass of pinot gris as awesome—the term simply does not apply to their province; actually, in this case, describing the mouthfeel of Coldplay tunes and recommending cheeses they best pair with is probably more relevant than discussing how they sound. Coldplay is as universally popular as they are precisely because they aren’t awesome. They’re not beloved because they’re extraordinary; most people love them because they’re innocuous, functional, and suitable for almost any occasion—Coldplay is akin to a pair of cargo shorts, and no one thinks cargo shorts kick ass. Coldplay isn’t an alternative band (on the contrary, almost every good band is an alternative to Coldplay); they are a lowest common denominator band, undemanding and ubiquitous and safe to like because everyone else likes them. Their work is specifically geared toward people who think appreciating music demonstrates sophistication, but don’t ultimately give enough of a shit about the artform to put any effort into finding music that is actually sophisticated or appreciable. You may assume Coldplay is erudite because they’re British and they cite books you’ve never read when discussing the lyrical themes in their work, but they’re merely recycling the same emotional territory as every other pop act that writes tunes about finding love, losing love, missing love, and the 18th Century French peasantry.

The best thing about being a Coldplay fan is that it’s easy. You don’t have to buy their records, go see them live, or make any concerted effort at all to receive their music. If you listen to the radio for any extended period of time (or eat at an Applebee’s), you will eventually hear one of their songs; all you have to do is not hate it and, voila, you’re officially a Coldplay fan. There, don’t you just love the security of venerating a critically and commercially acclaimed band that will never challenge you or be unpopular?

Okay, I do strive to be fair—even in this arena where I can say whatever I want and no one can argue with me. I gave this a lot of thought, so here are four things about Coldplay that are not terrible:

 1)      “Clocks”: I resisted it for many years, but I finally had to concede that it’s kind of a pretty song. Notes of red currant and blackberries, and it goes superbly with a nice aged brie.

2)      “God Put A Smile On Your Face”: It doesn’t put a smile on mine, but that’s why I enjoy it. Most Coldplay songs sound like they’re aiming to evoke what being hugged by a koala bear feels like, so I appreciate Chris fucking Martin delivering a darker number that seems intent on making me feel depressed instead. Well played, sir.

3)      Viva La Vida, Or Death And All His Friends: I sincerely respect their effort to broaden their palate a bit by working with Brian Eno and making Dude Who Plays Guitar buy a distortion pedal to use on one song. This is still an archetypal shitty Coldplay record, but at least it sounds a little different than all of the other archetypal shitty Coldplay records.

4)      Nah. They’re still fucking terrible; they were lucky to get three things.

 There is one additional facet of the group’s career which has fascinated me over these past several years, even though it relates more to bands that are not Coldplay rather than the band that is Coldplay. Earlier I dubbed them the U2 of their generation, and recent events in particular have coalesced to underscore that comparison. See, when Coldplay came out, the tributes to their Irish brethren in choreographed affectation were far from subtle. Chris fucking Martin’s warbling was plainly modeled after fucking Bono’s, Dude Who Plays Guitar served up an endless cycle of repetitive but hooky high-register licks that were striking similar to the distinctive methodology of The Edge, and both bands’ workmanlike rhythm sections held things down with competent yet discreet backing tracks which militantly fulfilled each song’s basic requirements rather than showcasing the musicians’ dexterity. I don’t think anyone ever disputed the collective homage in Coldplay’s dogma, and no one was terribly bothered by it either; at the time there were a lot of people craving a band that sounded just like U2, because U2 didn’t sound like U2 anymore.

When Coldplay’s debut album Parachutes was released in July 2000, fucking Bono and company’s career was on a downward arc after they largely vacated their signature approach to instead craft a couple poorly-received discs dominated by insipid rave-lite tunes that not even the members of U2 listen to anymore. Though they would temporarily rebound later that year with “Beautiful Day”, the last honestly excellent song they would ever record, U2 had left a gap that needed filling. And the most obvious inheritors of their kingdom, Radiohead, had grown tired of anthemic guitar rock; they were hunkered down creating their demanding but exceptional opus Kid A, which sounded nothing like U2, nothing like Radiohead, and indeed nothing like any other music being made on planet Earth. Kid A still had some anthems, still had some guitar, and still had a little rock, but its oblique delivery clearly demonstrated that Radiohead was chasing a far different muse and had little interest in claiming the crown (of course, this would be abundantly clarified in hindsight when they subsequently slid further down their rabbit-hole, gradually abandoning the anthems and guitars and rock altogether, until finally settling upon their current songwriting formula, which seems to mostly involve Thom Yorke masturbating on his laptop, naming ten of his climaxes, and calling it an album).

So while U2 were busy trying to figure out why they weren’t relevant anymore and Radiohead were busy doing whatever the fuck they were doing, the lads in Coldplay stepped up and said, hey, why not us? They seized the ersatz-earnest arena rock mantle with A Rush Of Blood To The Head and never looked back. Now, 17 years and seven multi-platinum albums later, they can ruin the Super Bowl, collaborate with the Chainsmokers, and even make the same kind of lameass dance music that essentially buried U2’s career with impunity. Even more significant, they have come full circle. A group that started out playing second-rate U2 facsimiles under the moniker Pectoralz (this is absolutely true, by the way) is now one of the hugest pop institutions in the universe, beloved by millions of music and wine connoisseurs across the globe. And the student has eclipsed the teacher; U2’s desperate efforts to play catchup have made their modern work sound unmistakably like second-rate Coldplay facsimiles. Chris fucking Martin and those other three guys are no longer pretenders to the throne—they are Coldplay, and this is their empire now, bitches.

These days, U2 has to reprise their old records in their entirety on nostalgia tours to get anyone to come to their concerts, and Radiohead continues to release unlistenable albums which their fans claim to love while sheepishly casting them aside to listen to OK Computer for the thousandth time instead. But Coldplay has strategically situated themselves for an eternity as the undisputed emperors of rock mediocrity. I think they’ve got another two decades in them, too; I have no doubt that long after Twenty-One Pilots is (finally) relegated to the county fair circuit where they belong, Chris fucking Martin will still be promising sold-out crowds that lights will lead them home and having a series of polite, gently-articulated seizures while he sings “Speed Of Sound”.

It seems I respect Coldplay a little more than I suspected. You know what? I’m going to amend my original valuation right here and now. As of this moment, I am formally designating Coldplay the sixth worst band of all time.

Your move, Godsmack.

 May 15, 2019

[purplesurveys]

994

Basic Information

What's your name? Name’s already posted on my Tumblr but so that nobody has to check that anymore, Robyn.

Where do you live? I live in some city east of Manila, and that’s all you need to know.

When's your birthday? April 21st.

What's your astrological sign? Taurus.

Do you actually believe in that stuff? Never did.

How old are you? 22.

Do you have a high school diploma or the equivalent? Yeah I got a diploma.

Do you have an undergraduate degree? If so, in what? Yup. I’ve graduated but I haven’t received the diploma nor did I get to walk on a stage because of the stupid virus, but I majored in journalism.

What is your favorite...

Quote? I don’t have any. My brain doesn’t really store quotes for me to go back to; I don’t find the majority of them interesting.

Color? My main favorite is pink, but I enjoy looking at pastel shades and muted colors in general too.

Song? Picking an all-time favorite song is impossible, but for now I really like putting Hayley Williams’ Why We Ever on repeat. It used to be just a sad song that I love listening to but unfortunately the lyrics have since become relatable, so now there’s a sting whenever I hear it.

Band/singer? My favorite bands are Paramore and Against Me! while my favorite solo act is Beyoncé.

Book? I never had one. I was a big bookworm as a kid, but I didn’t get to keep it up as a teenager and now as an adult. Most of the books I own today are still just the novels I had nearly a decade ago, and it’s been a struggle trying to find a genre to get into.

Author? Same situation as book.

School subject? History. A lot of the social sciences are also great – anthropology, pol sci, psychology, etc. In another universe I definitely would’ve taken up a degree in a social science instead of journalism.

Science (chemistry, biology, physics, etc.)? Biology has always been a strength of mine and a favorite. I find memorizing terms fun, and I’ve always enjoyed studying living things instead of chemicals or energy or force or any of that boring stuff. 

Math (algebra, geometry, calculus, etc.)? Advanced algebra is fun. So is geometry, but only as long as you know all the formulas and theories; otherwise it’s so easy to fail it.

Language? I don’t have one. I think all languages are individually beautiful.

Operating system? Wow this is random lol. macOS, I guess. It’s what I’m using.

Instrument? I like the sound of many instruments, but in the grand scheme of things the piano has to be my absolute favorite.

Letter? I don’t pick a favorite letter.

Number? 4.

Car? I don’t know the first thing about cars but I suppose my dream car is a Mini Countryman, if that counts as a favorite. I swoon every time I see one in real life; they’re just so pretty to look at.

Pattern (polka spots, stripes, plaid, etc.)? Stripes are my cup of tea, but polka dots are also cute.

Word? The word that’s been my favorite for a while is ‘poignant.’

Animal? I love animals, but I’m biased to dogs and elephants. :)

Country? I don’t have a favorite country. That’s a pretty odd favorite but *shrug* I guess some people have theirs.

Drink (alcoholic or otherwise)? Water, milkshakes, and cocktails.

Food? Sushi, curry, cheeseburgers, and macarons. You can’t make me go with just one choice when it comes to food, my dude.

Restaurant? Yabu and Torch.

Website? I rely a lot on YouTube for my sanity these days so it’d be fair to call that my favorite, at least for the meantime.

Sport? If it counts, pro wrestling. If it doesn’t, I like playing table tennis and watching volleyball and tennis.

Flower? Peonies, roses, and sunflowers.

Ice cream flavor? Cookies and cream is a classic.

Television show? Breaking Bad is my favorite ever, but I also enjoy Friends, The Crown, and Bojack Horseman, and at one point The Walking Dead before it got honestly boring.

Shirt? I don’t really have a favorite shirt, but my favorite type to wear is anything sleeveless. I like giving my skin air to breathe, lol.

Shape? I don’t pick favorite shapes.

Eye color? Olive is beautiful.

Hair color? I’m indifferent to hair colors. Whatever suits a person.

Movie? Two for the Road and Good Will Hunting.

Gum flavor? Fruity ones.

Random Stuff About You

Do you have your drivers' license? Yeah. I had to get it as soon as I graduated high school because no one else was going to be able to bring me to school in college. I was in driving school like a week or two after marching on stage for my high school diploma haha.

Have you ever been swimming in an ocean? I don’t know if I have. In the vacations I’ve had, I don’t really keep track if I’m swimming in a sea or if I’m already in one of the oceans.

What's the last song you listened to? No clue but it was probably something by Hayley.

Do you prefer coloring pencils, crayons, or markers? Coloring pencils! I miss coloring. I just can’t see myself going back to it at the moment because I had bought a really cheap set of coloring pencils that have to be sharpened every five minutes. During my coloring phase I’m pretty sure I spent more time sharpening my pencils than actually filling in my coloring books. I’ve yet to find a replacement set with better quality.

Can you make any origami figures? If so, what? I’m terrible at origami and have always been. Even if I’m given a one-on-one session, I’ll for sure get lost early on in the process.

Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal? I never did. I always preferred pillows.

Do you get cold easily? I do haha, but I don’t mind it. I’d rather shiver or have my teeth chatter than have a pool of sweat on the back of my shirt from being too hot.

Have you ever been to a chiropractor? Nope.

Do you have great eyesight, or do you wear glasses or contacts? It’s very poor. I’ve had glasses since I was 11, but I needed them a lot earlier, like since I was 8 or 9 maybe. My mom refused to believe me when I started telling her my vision was getting worse because she legitimately thought I just wanted glasses to look like other kids. God, how shitty was that parenting? I can’t believe I just fucking let that go as a kid. My eyesight was getting increasingly blurry by the day and I stopped learning at school and her worry was that I wanted to fit in. I’m gonna get more stressed and hurt if I continue to think about this, so let’s just move on...

Do you know how to play chess? Never learned. I’ve watched my cousin play and he tried to teach me so many times, but I just never understood.

Do you know how to play checkers? At one point I think I did, but I didn’t enjoy it.

Do you like Sudoku puzzles? No. I never got the hang of that game either.

Do you like word searches? Love them.

Do you like crossword puzzles? They’re fine but the ones on our newspapers are too hard and use too many references or plays on words that I’m not able to pick up.

Do you like logic puzzles? It’s a hit or miss.

Can you play any card games? Other than solitaire, no.

Do you play board games? Hmm I played some as a kid, but I’ve always been too competitive and I’m never able to just sit down and have a friendly game so I’m not too big on board games now. I’m a lot happier sitting on the sidelines and watching my friends play because it’s more entertaining that way.

Do you do jigsaw puzzles? Not normally but I’ve been thinking of investing in one of those 1000-piece puzzles to take my mind off of things whenever I get depressed or when my mind starts to think about things it shouldn’t.

Do you listen to the same song on repeat for a long time, even occasionally? Yes. Sometimes I do it on purpose when I’m REALLY feeling a certain song at the moment; other times I don’t even realize the repeat button is turned on and I don’t notice I’ve been listening to the same song over and over.

Do you take any prescription medications on a regular basis? Nope.

Would you prefer to be too hot or too cold? I’ve said this a few questions ago, but too cold.

Do you like to swim? Sure. Being in the water calms me down instantly.

Have you ever been to a farm? I’ve probably been. I just can’t pinpoint a certain memory right now.

Do you like instrumental music? Depends on what the genre is, but I do generally prefer instrumental music when I’m working or have to focus.

Do you drink diet soda? Nope.

Do you drink soda? Andddddd nope.

Have you ever put Mentos into soda? I haven’t but I know what it does. There’s already like a million videos of other people doing it so I don’t need to do it for myself. 

Have you ever combined baking soda and vinegar? No.

Did you ever make Oobleck in science class when you were a kid? We never did and I learned about oobleck from watching a Good Mythical Morning episode, not in school. But I’ve always been curious as to what the texture is because it looks so fun to touch hahaha. I’d try making it myself but idk if we ever have cornstarch at home.

Do you know any HTML? Yes. Early days of Tumblr, man. People customized their themes and text posts all the time.

Have you ever read any of Shakespeare's work? Well, yeah. I had to read four of them - one for each year in high school.

Do you write poetry? No.

Do you read? Occasionally. A lot less than I used to.

Can you throw a frisbee? Sure. My friends and I played back in high school.

Do you watch a lot of television? Eh, not really. It’s rare that I discover a TV series I’m willing to invest in; I’ve always preferred movies since they can tell me a story within 2-3 hours. Following an ongoing show is just exhausting.

Do you think that you have a good sense of humor? Humor is subjective. I could mesh well with certain people but others might not find my sense of humor funny. I don’t think either of those can determine if my sense of humor is good or not.

Are you a mean person? Well, I try not to be...I think that’s what most people strive to do.

Do you have any bruises? If so, how did you get them? I have one on my knee because a few days ago I knelt to the floor to try to look for something under my bed, and I ended up landing on the floor quite hard and it was purple in minutes lmao. It’s mostly healed now though and I can barely tell where it is.

Does the thought of public speaking make you nervous? It only does if I ultimately also have to pitch something, because I don’t consider myself persuasive at all. But if I had had something memorized or had enough practice or if it’s a topic I’m fairly knowledgable about then I don’t have much of a problem with it.

Are you afraid of heights? It doesn’t bother me as much as other things and I’ve always wanted to go to the top floor of those towers where the floor is glass lol, but like I’d absolutely piss my pants if I found myself standing on a tightrope between two really tall buildings.

So, what ARE you afraid of? Flying cockroaches, plane crashes, and fire.

Are you listening to music? No.

Has anyone ever called you 'disturbed'? I don’t think so, at least not to my face.

Have you ever been kicked out of a place? If so, where? And why? Yeah. From a McDonald’s, but it was my noisy friends’ fault. I knew they were being loud (they were playing some card game) so I just stayed at the very edge of our table, pretended not to be associated with them and waited for a customer to complain about us lol. Normally I’d speak up and tell friends if they’re being too immature, but in that friend group in particular I was the shyest and didn’t really hold a lot of influence so I didn’t have much of a choice.

Do you take a lot of these surveys? Yeah I have this entire blog dedicated to just them, and even before this account I had another survey blog.

When was the last time you fingerpainted? No idea. Kindergarten maybe? If we even ever did?

When was the last time you sent an e-mail? Yesterday afternoon.

A text message? 1 AM earlier.

Called someone on the phone? I think it was around two weeks ago.

Tripped over something? I’m sure I tripped over Kimi fairly recently, like sometime this week.

Do you like chocolate? Sure but on its own it can be too sweet for me, like the Hershey’s milk chocolate bar. I do love chocolate-flavored stuff or if it’s incorporated into other meals or snacks, like chocolate chip cookies.

How many pillows are on your bed? Right now there aren’t any because I brought the two pillows, that I do normally have on my bed, to my desk where I’m currently sitting at.

Do you have any pets? Yeah one of them is licking their balls behind me. The other one is probably playing with their toys downstairs and miraculously being quiet this morning.

Have you ever been on a horse? Yep.

Have you ever climbed a tree? I don’t think so. Most trees here have fire ants anyway.

Do you like art? Sure do.

Do you use any sort of social networking site? I mean normally yeah, but I’ve deactivated all my accounts for the meantime. Depression is a bitch. I’m no longer updated on the news nor am I familiar with the trendy memes anymore but idk, this seems to be the healthiest thing for me right now.

What time is it? 9:11 AM.

Have you ever been in a car accident? Super minor ones where the car I was in only got a paint scratch or, at worst, a dent or two.

When was the last time you felt embarrassed? Yesterday when I almost sent a message talking about a certain person to that certain person. It was nothing mean, but I was horrified nonetheless.

Did it rain today? No. I’m not sure if it will but I hope it does.

Have you ever had a poison ivy rash? No. When was the last time you felt immensely happy? LOL Do you take a multivitamin or any other supplement? We have vitamin C tablets at home but I’m so bad at taking them. What household chore do you absolutely hate? Washing rags. Not really a chore, but once they get all dirty and I have to clean them up it just feels so icky and ueughdhffgbduifhsuf Tell me something random about yourself. I’ve won a couple of spicy noodle speed eating challenges. Can you cook? No, but I’d love to learn. Do you like to be silly? I’m a little more serious than silly for the most part...but when I’m in the right mood at the right time with the right crowd, I can be silly too. What kinds of things have you wanted to be 'when you grow up'? The first was astronaut. Then I came across this interview with a veterinarian and I wanted to be one too. Lastly, a firefigher. Have you ever been on a boat? Yeah, lots of times. Sometimes it’s the only way to get to certain provinces or cities in the country so we’ve had to take boats for a few trips. Do/did you like school? For the most part, yes. I like that I made a lot of friends in school and I don’t have complaints about learning. What I hated the most about school is the scheduling, I guess. In my first school I had to wake up at 5 AM everyday to catch the school bus; and then in college I had to take several 7 AM classes and those were just the biggest, most inconvenient bitches. I also did not enjoy the concept of Catholic school. Do you have a camera? I used to have a DSLR but I’ve since handed it down to my sister since she’s taking up film. The camera on my phone works just fine. Have you ever been bitten by a tick? I don’t think so.

Have you ever seen a wild snake? I don’t really know what counts as a ‘wild’ snake but I’ve handled and held snakes before. Have you ever gone hiking in the woods? Hmm I’ve gone hiking, but not in the woods. Do you have a lot of friends? There’s a lot of people I can call friends, yes. We aren’t constantly in touch, though. All my friendships are super low-maintenance which I appreciate. Do you keep a diary/journal/blog? I have a journal and this blog where I write my thoughts and emotions down. What color are your eyes? Dark brown. Answering this yet again this week... Do you like snow? I’ve never experienced it so I can’t say. I think I would enjoy snow though. I feel that I’d be able to find comfort in it, like rain. Would you prefer to sing or dance in front of other people? Both sound awful. But I’d go with sing because at least I don’t have to move my body as much. Would you prefer to sing or dance when you're by yourself? Sing.

Can you spell really well? I’d say I can. I was really inspired by the movie Akeelah and the Bee as a kid and that made me want to be constantly good at spelling. Do you mind poor grammar? If it’s coming from a native speaker of whatever language, yeah. Like people who can only speak English but still use ‘would of’ or ‘I could care less.’ I’m more forgiving towards people who speak one language, or those who are speaking in a language they know they aren’t 100% fluent in. What's your favorite texting/IM abbreviation? I don’t have one. ‘lol’ I guess? It’s convenient. Do you wear a watch? No. Do you shop at thrift stores? Sometimes, if I find their offers interesting enough for me to want to go inside. What is your dream job? It’s pretty straightforward but it’d be nice to be able to work my way up and end up as an executive at a PR or media agency that I look up to. What is one thing that really freaks you out? Charlie Kaufman movies. Do you like bananas? They’re okay. I don’t hate bananas as aggressively as I do other fruits. Do you eat meat? Yes. Do you drink coffee? Yuh. I can go for a cup right now, actually...maybe when I finish this survey. Do you clean your computer screen often? Not often. Just every once in a while or once I start seeing too many smudges. Have you ever sneezed onto your computer screen? Probably.

Let's talk about numbers.

How many people live with you?

Four. We also have two animals.

136+95=...?

231. That’s essentially 136 + 100 - 5.

How many digits of pi do you have memorized?

Just the first five.

Can you count using binary numbers?

No. Never understood those, not interested enough to start learning.

How many states have you visited?

Zero.

How many countries?

Six. Would’ve been seven or even eight if Covid never blew up. I know my dad mentioned there were plans for us to go to Vietnam this year, and I also asked for a Thailand trip as a graduation present. Damn bat soup or whatever it was.

How many browser windows/tabs do you have open?

I have three Chrome windows in total. On the one I’m on, there are 13 tabs.

How many times have you blinked in the past minute?

I dunno, I never count that?

How many seconds are in a minute?

60.

Are you afraid of mathematics?

Calculus and trig, yeah. The other ones aren’t so bad.

What's the square root of 121? 11.

Sorry, sorry, the nightmare is over :) How about some more random questions to let you relax?

Have you ever read the webcomic xkcd?

I doubt it. I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.

Can you play an instrument?

Barely.

Can you read sheet music?

Not a chance.

What's your favorite kind of sandwich?

Monte Cristo! Omg, that sounds so good right now :( Banh mi is great too.

Do you have a bedtime?

Not strictly but I always try to get 7-8 hours of sleep on weeknights so that I’m sufficiently energized for work the next day.

Have you ever gone sledding?

No, I haven’t.

Have you ever carved a pumpkin? If so, what kind of face did you make?

Also no.

Do you ever make funny faces at yourself in the mirror?

I guess it’s happened before, but it’s not a regular occurrence.

Have you ever played the classic shaving-cream-in-the-hand prank on someone?

No.

Do you think that's a mean thing to do?

I don’t think that prank in particular is since shaving cream is harmless, but some pranks can definitely go too far which is why I’m generally not a fan of them.

Do you like cake?

Only very certain types. I can think of more cakes that I don’t like than the ones I can never get tired of.

Do you like pie?

Just savory ones, like chicken pot pie. Those are more up my alley than sweet pies, which are for the most part stuffed with a kind of fruit.

Do you like popsicles?

Sure, they’re refreshing.

Do you use the television or computer more?

Laptop.

Do you have a favorite chair to sit in?

Not really lolAre you getting tired of this survey?

It’s lengthy but I knew about it when I started this so I can’t complain about that; and the questions haven’t been annoying too so no, I wouldn’t say I’m tired of it.

Do you like to wear hats? When I have the chance to, yeah. They’re never a must for me though.

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car?

Most of the time no. Oops.

Do your shoes provide lots of arch support?

I...don’t know. I don’t really pay attention.

Do you like to go to yard sales? I haven’t gone to one since I was a kid.

Have you ever had a yard sale at your house? I don’t think we ever did.

Do you like apples? I like some apple-flavored things like juice or candy. I can’t stand the actual fruit but y’all know that by now, haha.

Do you like peanut butter? Yessssssss. I love peanut butter and any peanut butter-flavored food.

Do you like licorice? Not really. They’re not common here so I don’t seek it out.

Do you like lima beans? It doesn’t sound like something I’d enjoy.

Do you like limes? Not particularly.

What color are your bedroom walls? White.

Guess how many questions you've done. I don't know either, so just guess. Before clicking on it I saw it had 200 or so questions, so I’m guessing we’re at the 180 or 190 mark considering how many questions are left below this.

What's your favorite color to wear? I feel prettiest in dark green or maroon. Do you tell secrets when people confide in you? I’m not sure what this is supposed to be asking, but I’ll give two answers. (1) I don’t spill other people’s secrets when they confide in me, and (2) When people confide in me, sometimes I’ll be inspired to share a secret of my own too, especially if it’s relevant to their situation. If I don’t think it’s going to be helpful, I just keep it to myself. Do you listen to your music with the volume up really high? Only when I’m extremely upset or furious. Do you like to try new foods? Absolutely. How many different programs are you currently using? Like applications? Currently, I have Chrome, Viber, and Notes turned on. How many different operating systems have you used? I’ve gone through Windows XP, Windows Vista, Windows 8, and then whatever updates have been done on macOS since 2015 - I don’t really keep track of their names lol. What time is it now? 12:03 PM. Are you wearing socks? Nope. Are you comfortable with yourself? These days, no. Do you lose small things (like your car keys) often? Hah, yes. Is your mind in the gutter? No. Have you ever broken a bone? I haven’t. Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? I’m a healthy mix of both, I’d say. Which is still a great improvement for me because I used to be an introvert all the way through. Do you read the dictionary for fun? I literally did this for a time right after watching Akeelah and the Bee and having that movie change my life. It made me want to join a shit ton of spelling bees, but my interest waned when I realized there weren’t any being held here.  Tater tots or fries? Fries, only because I’ve never had the first. Do you like to wear flip flops? No. The thongs irritate my skin all the time and they always give me wounds. Are you more of an optimist or pessimist? I’m normally optimistic but it’s easier to be pessimistic nowadays. Do you like animals? Yes :) Do you like little kids? If they aren’t being a giant, rude pain in the ass. Are you a 'people person'? Yes. If I can’t satisfy everyone it bothers me. Have you ever seen a rainbow? Sure. How was your day? I haven’t cried today but I’m still sad. Otherwise, I don’t have a lot of strong feelings about this day just yet. What do you plan to do tomorrow? I don’t know yet. When was the last time you did laundry? Around two or three months ago. Have you ever played Snake? On the really old Nokia phones? For sure. Have you ever played Scrabble? Yeah. I took it up for one semester as a PE, hahaha. I also played it a lot when I was younger. Are there any television commercials that really get on your nerves? At the moment no, but this has happened many times before. Do you like scary movies? Sure. Are you itchy anywhere on your body? The left side of my forehead started to feel itchy when I read this. What's the title of the last book you read? Midnight Sun. Do you read more fiction or nonfiction books? Nonfictionnnnnnn. Are you a member of any clubs or organizations? I used to be, but now I’m an alumna because I’ve graduated college. What color is your favorite pair of socks? I don’t have a favorite pair. Do you own a lava lamp? No. Do you have anything else to say? Thanks for serving as a distraction and letting me kill some time.

[popwasabi]

Lockdown Lookback: Catching up on the past months’ Pop Culture

Aaaaannnd we’re back!

It’s amazing what a little pandemic can do to shake you out of your creative cobwebs but if we’re all going to die, I want to make sure all my pop cultural hot takes are up to date at least.

Many of us are already on lockdown and many major movies including “007,” “Black Widow” and ummm I guess “Mulan” are all getting pushed to the backburner as no one is leaving their God damn homes unless they’re told to!

(Didn’t realize the thing I wish I had more of in the apocalypse would be sweatpants...)

But there’s still plenty to talk about from the previous months and other hot topics I have been meaning to write about but just hadn’t found the time or energy for. Life has been hard I think for just about all of us these days thanks in no small part to this pandemic. For me personally, I’ve had two different vacations canceled because of the virus and currently working understaffed at my job which is considered essential. Not to mention my therapist is on call only at this time and both my martial arts schools have been suspended, so I can neither talk nor punch my feelings out of my system.

So, I might be just a LITTLE on edge at the moment.

(My internal monologue for most of these past few weeks, more broadly years...)

Anyways, I digress, you come here because you like to read my highly unprofessional takes on pop culture and genuinely to those who have cheered me on from the beginning thanks, you guys are my prime motivators. But anyways let’s talk about all the shit I was supposed to write about these last two and a half months.

 “Birds of Prey” was a hot, but needed, mess

Earlier last month I got to see the sort of sequel to the much-maligned “Suicide Squad” in “Birds of Prey and the…waaaay too long of a title for me write here.” I had cautious optimism for it because it looked strange and off the beaten path of most comic book movies and seemed to promise at the very least a fun time at the theater but it’s still also a DCEU movie so the floor was pretty low on its possible quality as well.

In the end, the movie is kind of bit of everything; the best and worst parts of the DCEU. 

In terms of the good, it’s definitely outside the box, a sort of fem Deadpool first person story as told frenetically by Harley herself. Margot Robbie is, of course, still quite great at this role and you can tell she’s having a blast as this character. The humor is mostly good and visually the bright colors and cinematography pops on each screen and on that front there isn’t much to complain about.

But as a DCEU movie it does suffer from some narrative imbalance partially due to it’s psycho storyteller but mostly, and more than likely, due to corporate editing that probably axed an entire dance number that I was honestly looking forward to from the trailers.

(Seriously, I actually wanted to see the full unedited version of whatever hell this ended up being.)

It’s definitely in the “could’ve been better” camp of comic book movies but you know what? I’m still glad it exists. You know why? Because comic book movies dominate our blockbuster culture right now and if the genre wants to survive, at least artistically, it needs some outside the box films like this. I HATED “Joker” but I appreciate that it opened the door for stranger, more unique takes on a genre that is getting increasingly more stale. This movie falls into that unique category too.

(Also, to all the faux-intellectuals and alt-right nerds making a culture war out of “Sonic” vs “Birds of Prey” *kindly* reevaluate your lives please...)

We’re at the point now where comic book movies should be getting weirder, not more formulaic, and that means swinging for the fences even if a couple don’t quite make it out of the ballpark. If it takes a few not so stellar takes on the genre for Hollywood to greenlight a truly fantastic one I’m all for it.

In any case “Birds of Prey” doesn’t quite end nor continue the DCEU’s recent hot streak but it is enjoyable enough to where I would be more than open to a sequel. It’s worth a watch.

 The Mandalorian and The Witcher: Two shows about violent mercenaries and fatherhood

Both these shows are old news at this point, but I did want to talk a little about both for a bit if you would have me.

First, “The Mandalorian” which was Disney+’s flagship production to begin its streaming chapter late last year is definitely a more than welcome addition to the galaxy far, far away. It’s pretty easy to feel fairly jaded about Star Wars these days given how flat the new trilogy ended but for what it’s worth “The Mandalorian” was a good mix of nostalgia bait and something new and interesting for fans to chew on. Its production value is obviously top-notch, no doubt because of all the Disney money pumped into it, it’s well-acted and thrilling and fun from start to finish. It plays heavily on the genres that influenced the series, primarily westerns and old samurai flicks, and fans of those will certainly enjoy the homages to them all.

The series was something of a coming out party for Deborah Chow who directed two of the season 1’s best episodes. Her steady hand, eye for details and tributes to Asian cinema throughout really gave the series an extra kick at times and showed how Star Wars can evolve still. Chow is set to helm the upcoming “Kenobi” series and one can only hope that she *really* leans into the samurai genre for that show.

(Hopefully, there are some “Yojimbo” vibes in there somewhere...)

The Mandalorian’s best and worst parts though are its semi episodic nature making each episode easy to digest as a one-off but also lacking some narrative tension between each. It plays kind of like a Saturday Morning cartoon to both its benefit and detriment with bite-size easy to digest plots and dialogue for the viewers but not offering a ton of depth beyond that.

The Mandalorian himself is also kind of a Gary Stu. His armor is basically impenetrable and far and away the best killer onscreen typically, making more than a few action scenes lack real stakes and tension. Baby Yoda certainly helps at times to make him more vulnerable and puts him in precarious positions plenty of times but outside a few moments (mainly episode 2 and to a lesser extend the final episode) he’s just a little too overpowered to be a more interesting character.

But this show and frankly the Star Wars series as a whole is meant for kids, no matter what the neckbeards try to tell you (violence =/= adult), and that’s not necessarily a bad thing either. Plenty of kids productions can be both great and even sophisticated and while I wouldn’t say “The Mandalorian” is either of those it’s a good and fun kids show for the fans.

(And yes I’m aware that the books, some comics, and games have touched on more adult stuff, you weirdos. But how would you describe the overall tone and presumptive audience of the movies and TV series as a whole, guys??)

As far as “The Witcher” goes it also has a bit of an episodic style to it as well with an overarching, albeit, convoluted story that runs parallel to it. The first 3-4ish episodes can be classified as a quasi “Game of Thrones” clone leaning perhaps a little too heavily into the tropes of that series. Once the series finally starts leaning into its real identity, a dry-witted hack and slash fantasy, the series is much more consistent both tonally and narratively.

Henry Cavil is solid as Geralt of Rivia and the supporting cast of Joey Batey as Jaskier, Freya Allen as Ciri and even more so Anya Chalotra as Yennefer are all great in their respective roles delivering some great moments throughout the season.

(And lest you forget this earworm...)

“The Witcher’s” early season struggles keep it from being as tonally or narratively consistent as “The Mandalorian” but where the monster slayer beats the bounty hunter is that it has overall more compelling drama and has more to say, leaning much more heavily into the thematic greys of the plot. There are tons of problems with “The Witcher” on a story-telling level but you can definitely say it cares more about adding some depth in between the more pulpy aspects of the story which is something you can’t say as much for in “The Mandalorian.”

Of course, I’m partially overselling “The Witcher” a bit here, it’s not anywhere near “Game of Thrones” best (yet at least), and on the flipside one could argue that “The Mandalorian’s” more subtle sense of story-telling does its themes better. But when it comes down to these two shows you get somewhat similar story-telling ideas, mostly involving both characters and their smaller counterparts, in two very different genres with equally diverging conclusions to their respective seasons. 

(🎵 Toss an “Oof” to your Witcher...🎵)

All in all, they’re both good and worth a watch and I think they deserve a chance to evolve and hopefully showcase more of what they have to offer moving forward.

“Parasite” wins Best Picture! Many people have some hot takes, including the president...

Last month one of my favorite films of 2019 “Parasite” won Best Picture at the Oscars. It’s a movie that is becoming increasingly relevant as elites and celebrities alike are getting front of the line testing despite being asymptomatic in the middle of pandemic and think they can assuage our concerns and dread by poorly singing “Imagine” together within the comfort of their McMansions.

It’s about as a good time as any to revisit this movie, I mean where else are you going to go during this timeline, and at a later date I’ll write something more extensive about it eventually (hopefully) but first here’s a helpful video on one particular thing that came out after director Bong Joon Ho took home the night’s top honors:

 “Cats” is still a fever dream of madness

Back in late December, I watched “Cats” for science, as I had AMC A-List and a friend crazy enough to join me. I figured it would be bonkers and unlike anything I had seen before in the worst way but even then, I don’t think I was truly prepared for what I ended up seeing that fateful night.

I remember quite vividly going to the bar inside the theater and ordering a stiff drink beforehand to numb the pain and the bartender asking “So what are y’all watching tonight?” and beginning to laugh manically like an insane asylum patient at the innocuousness of the question. Walking into the theater was like that feeling you get before getting on a particularly scary-looking rollercoaster at Six Flags but instead of the pre-ride jitters eventually subsiding to the eventual fun and joy of the ride, only a deep sense of existential dread built up and sustained itself through what felt like six hours of the most baffling thing put to screen in front of my eyes ever.

(The music that played in my head as I exited the theater...)

Have any of you watched the Stanley Kubrick movie “Eyes Wide Shut” before? You know the scene when Tom Cruise is walking around in his mask observing the strange occult sex orgy going on around him at the mansion? That’s kind of what “Cats” felt like except way more terrifying, somehow MORE sexual, and definitely crazier.

(Is...this some type of...intepretative dance to summon an eldritch horror??)

There’s a voyeuristic terror that comes from sitting in that theater room as you watch bipedal humanoid looking felines dance to confusing songs about “Jelicle” cats (whatever the fuck that means) and all other manner of things that should NOT take human form throughout it’s near-endless runtime. A lot was made about Rebel Wilson and the disgusting roach people she consumes but NO ONE warned me about the frankly HORRIFYING mice children in the same scene!

(I am not perusing the internet to find that image again for y’all. I have enough nightmares each night...)

The saddest thing about the whole movie is everyone, save for Ian Mckellen who seemed to be acting as if a gun was pointing at him offscreen and Judi Dench who looked 100 percent like a geriatric in her digi fur, was giving the movie their fullest effort in what can only be described as a Titanic-sized level of hubris by all parties involved. This movie really needed a “Chaostician” involved in evaluating the production for studio heads and shareholders because there were definitely NOT enough people on this project wondering whether or not this film SHOULD exist...

(Dr. Ian Malcolm coming to Universal Pictures to access the film.)

What has “Cats” wrought upon this world? The universe has been clearly out of balance since this movie came out and while I’m not saying it’s director Tom Hooper’s fault, I’m not saying it isn’t either.

“Cats” is one of those things, much like The Matrix that cannot be simply described but must be seen to believe. It’s one of the worst things I have ever seen onscreen but with the right group of people and a few stiff drinks it’s certainly an experience you won’t forget. Consider it for your next Google Hangout during this apocalypse.

  Anyways, that about wraps up my thoughts on the last few months. Going to try to be more consistent going forward especially given how much more time I have now to write, for better and worse. But more importantly, just want to say stay safe y’all. It’s going to be a process to get through this and while things are more likely to get worse before they get better there will be a day when this all ends and some normalcy may yet return to our life but in order for us to get there we need to remain vigilant. 

So stay at home, wash your hands, and if you want to watch movies just order it online for now and we’ll just wait until aaaallll this blows over…hopefully.

Don’t panic...

[frickyeahfanfic]

STATS & STAR WARS (peter parker)

pairing: peter parker x cheerleader!smart!reader

warnings: none

summary: You are in peter’s math class, and you got partnered with him for a stats project. Peter is TERRIBLE at math, so you have to stay after school to help him with the project. and maybe hang out and study later?

word count: 2.5k

___________

Peter was dreading his math class today. He didn’t have any friends in that class, nor did he do the homework, but on top of it all, there was a group assignment. It wouldn’t have been as miserable if he had been put with MJ, or even Flash,

But he had been paired with you. 

The best math student with the worst. 

“Everyone get in your assigned groups, you have twenty minutes until the bell rings to work. These projects are due on Friday, so get them done!”

The lifeless room shuffled to life as the kids moved their desks and slung their brick-heavy backpacks over their shoulders.

You turned your head over your shoulder and made eye contact with a scared looking Peter Parker. Honestly, you could never figure out why he always looked like a deer in the headlights. You wave your hand and he follows the movement, quickly getting out of his seat and plopping down in the one next to you.

“You start on page 329 and I’ll start on 349,” you say, hoisting your textbook out of your backpack. He did the same, humming in agreement. 

As you fingered through the textbook with delicate fingers, Peter scribbled down the notes from his pages. You could simply read the information and process it perfectly, thus classifying you as the smartest person in the room.

Peter, on the other hand, was a bit slow.

“Hey, um, what formula would you use for this problem?” He turned his messy notes to you. 

You looked up from your concentration and scrutinized his page for a moment, before jotting down the equation on the corner of his paper.

“Use this one,” you said with a smile. 

Peter laughed nervously. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that one.”

Although Peter was a little thick when it came to numbers and graphs, you were more than happy to help a classmate out. Especially if it meant that you would get free physics and AP biology tutoring. 

Still, why did he act so… afraid?

There were a few moments of silence before the bell rang and students scrambled to collect their supplies. Peter didn’t move. 

As you started to stand, he panicked. “Wait, I need more help!”

It was the last class period of the day, so everyone was eager to go home, to clubs or sports practices. You were a cheerleader, and tumbling practice wasn’t until later, so you had some time to stay after school and help Parker out. 

You sank back into your seat and grabbed your calculator that you had just put away. 

“Sorry Y/n, you can go home if you want, I think I can figure this one out.”

A soft smile warmed your face and you started plugging in numbers into the calculator. “You have ten problems left, and it’s a group assignment. We won’t go home until it’s finished,” you stated simply, writing an answer down on his paper. Your arm brushed over his and he flinched, but you didn’t notice. He always got so jumpy around you. 

It was silent as you worked on the next problem. The vents whirred loudly, and when you slammed your pencil on the desk, Peter nearly had a heart attack and sat up straighter than a stick in his chair. If only his Spidey-sense could help him with not being so nervous. 

“Parker, please just talk to me. You don’t have to be so quiet,” you complained, raising an eyebrow. 

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. What an idiot, she’s probably thinking.

“How’s Ned? Got another lego set?” You try, his eyes looking anywhere but yours.

“Oh! Ned’s great! We just finished a limited edition Millenium Falcon piece!”

Idiot, idiot, idiot! She probably thinks I’m the biggest nerd now!

“Millenium Falcon, from Star Wars?” You asked with genuine interest. 

Peter nodded and swallowed. Maybe he could redeem himself.  

“Well, yeah, Ned’s a huge fan of Star Wars, I’m not as-”

“My brother doesn’t play with his legos anymore, and he hasn’t touched his Super Star Destroyer in years,” you say, cutting him off. 

Peter was listening now. “The Super Star Destroyer?” The set cost almost a thousand on ebay, and there was no way that May would approve of the heavy purchase. 

You shrug. “My parents bought it for him when he was 12. He was such a brat about it, they paid him to put it together. You can have it if you want, the box is only good at collecting dust.”

The rich, smart, hot cheerleader just offered him a Lego Star Wars set. Ned would never believe him.

“I… don’t know what to say,” Peter said, staring at his scribbles in disbelief. 

“Thank you.” You teased, nudging him with your elbow. 

I think I broke him, you thought to yourself as he looked at your eyes for a second, then continued to stare at the paper in front of him. 

You clear your throat. “I’ve never seen Star Wars before.”

Peter looked at you in disbelief. Okay, he’s not broken. “What?” He nearly screamed at you.

Furrowing your brow, you continue copying down numbers from the dim screen on the calculator. “I don’t watch nerd movies, I watch chick-flicks and rom-coms with my friends, Peter Parker,” you say.

Your sparkling laughter fills the air as Peter’s face twisted into one of confusion. 

“We need to watch Star Wars,” he blurted out.

You squint your eyes. “We need to finish our project.”

He groaned and put his face on the desk, but gasped when an idea came to his head.

“We can watch Star Wars and work on the project,” Peter said, lifting his face off the desk. His paper was stuck to his cheek and it fluttered to the ground when you blew on it.

“You mean, I watch Star Wars, while you work on the project,” you roll your eyes and pick up Peter’s paper off the ground. “Or is it the other way around.”

When you put the paper back on his desk he was nearly glaring at you. 

“You need to watch Star Wars,” he insisted again.

“Fine. I’ll watch it when I get home from tumbling practice, you can wait until then,” your last statement wasn’t a question, rather, demanding Peter to be patient. 

He huffed and nodded. “Deal. Your house or mine?”

You bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. “Peter, if you’re asking me on a date, then it’s your place, but if we’re just hanging out we can do my place.”

Peter’s face turned bright red and his palms were sweating profusely. “A date? No, no, we can just hang out at your house.”

You wink and he almost faints. “It’s a deal.” 

Peter gets a text on his phone and starts packing his things. He gets halfway through the door when he stops. A clammy hand wraps around the doorframe and he peaks back at you.

“I, uh… probably need your address, and your phone number in case I get lost.”

You catch up to him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. “Thought you’d never ask.”

He hands you his phone with a blank contact and you fill it in quietly. Peter can’t help but stare at you, this close to him. The way your lovely lashed eyes settle on the cracked screen, the hair that falls over your right shoulder, you make his knees weak. 

You hand his phone back to him and he gasps softly when you make eye contact with him again. You tilt your head in confusion. 

“Something wrong Peter?”

He shakes his head and steps backwards. “Uh, I’ll see you tonight! Good luck with tumbling practice!”

Peter runs faster than he’s ever run before. 

__________

He can’t stop shaking when he comes to the door. 

You live a little way out of the city, in a two-story home on a busy street. The streetlamps seem bright and the road well kept in contrast to the dirty and dim Queens area that Peter Parker lived in. 

Peter looks at his phone one more time, making sure he has the right address and knocks on the door with a clenched fist. 

To his relief, a small head poked through the crack in the door and looked up at you. It must’ve been one of your brothers. 

“Who are you?” He asked innocently. Peter could see a glowing lightsaber in the hands of the elementary-age child, as if ready for attack. 

“I’m Peter, I’m coming over to study with Y/n,” he said, hefting the AP Stats textbook in his arm. 

The boy turned his head and yelled your name, to which you came quickly to the door. 

Your hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail, but the ends were tousled from your cheerleading practice. A baggy t-shirt draped over your arms and fell down to your mid-thigh, and from there tight leggings were situated comfortably. 

This was a different version of yourself, a tired, undone version. Normally your hair was perfectly curled, and you had the cutest clothes on, but at home, you could unwind and take things down a notch. 

Peter thought you looked perfect. Either way, you were just stunning, sweats or skirts. 

“Ben, let Peter in! Dude, I’m so sorry, he’s kinda a weirdo,” you said laughing. 

“Ben,” Peter breathed. Ben Parker was his Uncle’s name.

Your brother scurried off behind you when Peter came inside. 

“He’s the one that doesn’t play with his legos anymore,” you turn and look at him running off with his lightsaber. “Speaking of which-”

You plopped down a box by the door, the sound of plastic bricks clinking inside. “Your Super Star Destroyer. Don’t forget it here.”

Peter beamed. “Awesome!”

You gesture to the basement door. “Let's get our homework done. Both assignments.”

He looked confused and started panicking. There were two assignments?

You saw the look of confusion on his face. “Stats and Star Wars?”

Peter sighed with relief. “Oh yeah, duh.”

The basement was small but cozy. You had already set up the TV to watch Star Wars, and your backpack and textbooks were already strewn across the floor and the couch. 

“There’s food and sodas in the fridge, feel free to help yourself,” you said, plopping down on the couch. You grab a heavy textbook and set it in your lap, opening up to wear a pencil marked your spot. Peter had a water bottle in his hands from the fridge and sat down gingerly next to you, pulling out a binder full of statistic worksheets.

You nod towards the TV. “Ready?”

His face glows. “Yes.”

Not even ten minutes into the movie, Peter asks for your help on a problem.

“Y/n, how do you do this one again?” He nearly cringes as you turn your attention away from the screen. He doesn’t want you to miss this scene. 

You cheerfully point out that he needs to fix the Window setting on his calculator, then immediately go back to watching the movie.

Peter realized that you had your textbook open on your lap to help him.

So embarrassing. At least he only had two more problems left, then he could enjoy the movie. 

You can sense his frustration as he flips through the pages of the textbook, trying to find the next solution. You study his paper for a second, equally as confused. 

 “I actually don’t know how to do this one, I don’t think Mr. Saldor explained this concept,” you say with a sigh.

Peter didn’t feel so embarrassed anymore. You didn’t know all the answers in the universe. 

“Wait, you actually don’t know?” He asked, a bright tone in his voice. 

You roll your eyes and turn back to the screen. “No, Peter Parker, I actually don’t know all the answers in the universe.” You shut your textbook and set it on the floor. “I assume he’ll go over it in class tomorrow until then we need to work on our next assignment.”

Phew. The pain was over. He could finally watch his favorite movie with you. Pray to Thor that he doesn’t make himself more embarrassed. 

“I need some water, I’ll be right back,” you get up, hoping that he gets the message to scoot over and make a move. 

Of course, you wanted to hang out with Peter, and working on AP stats homework was the perfect excuse. 

You thought he was the sweetest kid in your class, and he wasn’t too bad to look at either. You didn’t mind all of his nerdy-ness, his friend Ned, or the fact that he straight-up sucked at Statistics, in fact, you found it all the more endearing. And when he got all nervous around you, you just wanted to pull him in a hug and tell him to take it easy. You liked him for who he was. If only you had the courage to tell him that. Maybe you were just as shy.  

As you come back to the couch, Peter was sitting with a blanket on his lap. He looked so uncomfortable. He had to focus so hard not to move away from you when you sat down so close to him. 

You reached for the blanket. “Mind if we share?”

“Oh yeah!” He exclaimed, and then pushed all the blankets off of himself onto you. 

“Peter.”

He looked at you, his lips pressed together and his eyes wider than ever before. 

“What?”

“Stop worrying!” You burst out in laughter, clutching your gut when you couldn’t get any air. 

“I can’t!” He nearly yelled at you as you continued to double over.

Once your breathing slowed you looked at him again and stifled a laugh. He looked terrified. 

“Peter Parker, share the blanket with me.”

He blinked in surprise. You wanted to cuddle with him?

You could read the shock plastered all over his face. In one swift movement, the blanket was draped over the two of you and you snuggled into his side.

“This is the part where you put your arm around me,” you say softly now. 

“Right,” he said, face blushing hard. His muscular arm wrapped around your shoulder and relaxed when he found the right spot to rest his hand. 

“I kinda don’t know what’s going on in the movie,” you admitted. 

“Guess we’ll have to watch from the start,” he said smoothly. Finally! He thought to himself. I think I’m catching onto this flirting thing!

“Guess so.”

________

ok i think i’m gonna end it there. I might write some more mini fics to this bc i love this concept where peter is just HEAD OVER HEELS for the pretty!reader, i just gotta finish up a submission first before i post anything else aaaaaa

any advice for my writing?? send in an ask! i have LOTS of room for improvement!

[rogsclogs]

Some Day One Day (Brian May x Reader); Part 1.

Hello everyone! I’ve been getting requests to do a longer series instead of my usual ones so here’s me trying out a long series for once! Feedback is always welcome so please do let me know what you think of it!

Enjoy :)

Very brief summary: Y/N is a college student who has to take Mr. May’s class in order to apply for the masters degree course she wants, but she ends up finding herself tangled up in a web of emotions and feelings that might take her on a different road.

Y/N had been getting ready for her last class of the second semester for a while, knowing how everyone who took that class always seemed to have struggles passing and not wanting to end up in the same place as them.

She was a physics major, numbers were her everyday companions, but this class would definitely challenge her ability to read through long problems and figure out the solution within a couple of minutes, and she knew that. She’d went over all her maths and physics notes from the past three years for over a month before feeling ready to face the lecture and she still had some anxiety left in her, no matter how many times she’d repeated the formulas in her head and wrote them down on paper. It’s not like she had a test on that day or anything, she just wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall behind and realize too late that she was lost.

What if she wasn’t smart enough to pass this class? Her parents would be so upset with her and they’d make a big deal out of it, even though she’d been acing her way through every class since the beginning of college.

She wanted to get into arts school, but since she’d always been very clever and good with numbers, her parents pushed her to get into a scientific field, limiting her choice (as they’d always done) and making her do what they thought was more fitting. She knew that, in a way, they were trying to do what was best for her, but she’d always suspected there was selfishness involved, and the more she grew up the more she could recognize it was mostly that.

Nevertheless, she loved physics and felt so accomplished whenever she aced one of the many exams she had every three to four months and some of her friends would look at her with envy because of how natural and simple she made it seem.

Out of all the fields she had looked into, her favorite one was by far astrophysics, she’d read countless books on the topic and had decided that her place was with the stars, she belonged amongst them, and she knew from the beginning she’d try her hardest to get her masters degree in astrophysics.

However, she had to get accepted in the program first. And, in order to get accepted, she needed to take Mr. May’s class, there was no getting around that. He taught astrophysics to older students who were already working on their masters degree and he tutored them when they had to start their thesis, that’s all she knew about him. Actually, she also knew that even though the class she was going to be taking was made specifically for students wanting to get into astrophysics and therefore it wouldn't be impossible for her to pass, Mr May wanted to make sure they could get a glimpse into the real and demanding world of stars and planets, so he tended to be very strict. She knew deep down she had the knowledge to do great, but more often than not she let her insecurities get the best of her and tear her down.

As she finally found her class on campus and went in, she realized that no one was sat behind the professor’s desk, which was bizarre because while she wasn’t late (she would rather die than be late to lectures), she wasn’t that early either and most students were already sat down, waiting patiently for someone to show up.

And someone did, but it wasn’t who Y/N was expecting at all. 

A very tall and lanky man rushed inside the classroom carrying a small backpack on his back and a cup of coffee in his right hand, his massive head of curly hair bobbed around as he walked fast, clearly annoyed at himself for being somewhat late, and reached his desk, throwing all his belongings carelessly on it and finally taking a deep breath.

Y/N couldn't help but notice that he looked nothing like a ‘stereotypical’ professor, in fact she thought he was just another student trying to take the piss before watching him pull out a bunch of papers and signing them. The classroom wasn't the biggest and Y/N always sat front row, so that allowed her to take some time to really look at his figure. 

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, giving him a strict outlook which was softened by the gentleness of his big brown eyes that were focused on whatever it was that he was writing on a piece of paper, and his clothes were rather casual, especially considering the authority he had on campus, he was always looked up to by other students and professors alike, but there was a certain humbleness to him, almost like he didn't know about other people’s opinions or he didn't care enough.

His attire helped Y/N to relax, maybe the course wouldn't be so bad after all and she’d do just fine.

When Mr. May was done writing down the last few things, he finally turned around and took a good look at his class, sipping on his now cold coffee every once in a while and smiling warmly as he was always happy to start a new semester and to share his passion for astrophysics with talented students. He loved having small classes too, being able to connect on a personal level with everyone involved was crucial for him to help them out when they needed it.

“Hello class, welcome to your first ever astrophysics lecture” his voice got everyone’s attention back to the front of the class with the only exception of Y/N who hadn't taken her eyes off him since he got in, she was fascinated by his persona and now by his voice as well, which was so sweet she swore it coated the grey walls of the lecture room with a layer of honey.

“I’m Mr. May and I’m very glad to see that so many of you applied for this course, which obviously means that there's many young people out there who find interest in the vast and intriguing world of astronomy and astrophysics, and I could not be happier about that” his lips stretched into a comforting smile that reached his eyes, Y/N couldn't understand nor try to explain what was going on inside her head but she’d never felt so captivated by someone before, and maybe it was just because of his authority figure status, but she found it hard to focus on the words he spoke rather than on his lips. He was introducing the course and all the things they were required to buy for it, books and calculators and all that jazz, but she could only think about those lips on her neck. Not that she’d ever admit it to someone out loud.

“So, I hope you guys won’t hate me or try to slash my tires once class is over, but I have decided to have you all take a test this morning” a loud groaning noise erupted from the group of students who all looked distressed from the new information and Y/N was no exception. Yes, she’d been getting ready for the eventuality, but would that be enough?

“Everybody settle down, please. It’s not an actual test that you’ll be graded for, it’s just my way of figuring out how knowledgeable you all are and how much I need to revise with you. You’ll be fine, don’t be so dramatic” he joked and Y/N’s heart fluttered even more as she left out a soft laugh along with her classmates. So he was handsome, smart, kind and funny? Seemed a bit too good to be true. She didn't even know why such thought were running through her head, he was clearly much older than her 22 year old self, and even though there were no visible rings on his slim fingers, that didn't mean he was single, and he was a respectable professional person who'd never even look her way twice. But she couldn't help but fantasize and imagine what his hand would feel like caressing her cheek.

No matter how much her parents had tried to shelter her from everything going on in the outside world, Y/N had always found ways to sneak around their demands and worries and she’d always been a wild one at heart, having her first experiences with boys at a relatively young age, which would get her murdered if her parents were ever to find out. She’d always been an extrovert, she lived her life out loud but kept it hidden and safe from prying eyes. Her libido was currently skyrocketing and she was indeed ashamed of her thoughts, but she was young and needy and truly not in the position to even consider flirting with the man she’d taken an interest to, but she was allowed to watch and dream as he passed a bunch of papers around the room with a number of questions written on it.

Her eyes lingered on his hand a bit too long when he passed her a copy of the sheet, and when he gently smiled at her (she knew he was probably just being kind but hey, she couldn't stop herself from hoping, that's how infatuation works) she knew she’d work hard to get his attention, no matter what it took. 

As she took a look at the set of questions, she let out a breath of relief as she was able to figure out the answer to a couple of them just by reading them. She finally found the strength to focus on the math and numbers in front of her, as she worked fast and wrote down formulas and variables. Numbers were the easiest thing in the world for her to work out, their properties were fascinating and the things you could do with them were mind-blowing. Kind of like Mr. May, in a way.

She worked through all the questions at the speed of light, and she was the first one to hand the paper in.

She was satisfied with her work, Mr. May could tell by her demeanor and the smile on his face only grew in size when she approached him to hand him her sheet

“Done already, miss? That's impressive!” He truly was impressed, the questions were definitely not the hardest out there but they weren't all that easy to work through either, and he was delighted to find that at least one of his students was so advanced already. 

“You might not even need this class, after all” he lightly joked with Y/N and caused her to giggle while still trying to keep her voice low out of respect for the rest of her classmates still working.

“I doubt that, but thank you very much Mr. May” her eyes sparkled with admiration for the beautiful man in front of her, she just wanted to reach out and touch him but she knew better than that.

“Well, since you’re already done, feel free to leave, I thought this test would take up the whole lecture time but apparently not for everyone” he said as he put on his glasses to take a quick look at her sheet. The first two questions were solved magnificently and with ease, he could tell by her writing that she went straight to the point because she knew the answer from the beginning, and he couldn’t help but feel admiration for the girl. 

“Thank you Mr. May, have a great afternoon” she whispered as she collected her stuff and walked out of the class, moving her hips maybe a tad more than she usually would, hoping to catch his attention.

While the rest of the students finished their work, he went to correct her answers, none of which were wrong, and he finally found out her name, Y/N Y/L/N. He sat back on his chair and thought about their interaction, he couldn't deny that he was intrigued by such a smart person, but he stopped his train of thought right then and there, not wanting it to get inappropriate. She was definitely going to be stuck in his mind for a while though. 

[buxohaqo-blog]

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Taiwan E-visa - the Story It is possible to print out a duplicate of the approval and carry out with your trip documents.  Before starting to fill in your application, you ought to be aware that there are a number of documents you want to have.  All application documents won't be returned.

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Light Layers The climate in Taiwan tends to be quite warm, so make sure to bring clothing that may keep you cool.  Have a look at our Taipei travel guide to assist you plan your journey to Taiwan.  These helpful hints will help accelerate the visa process when you arrive in Taiwan.

You are needed to finish the Online Application on the site.  I truly do HOPE that you'll also get APPROVED.

You have to convince the officer you have a legitimate reason behind staying in Taiwan for at least two months.  Furthermore, make certain to guard your heart always since there's a great probability you will fall in love with Taiwan.  Don't let a tiny thing like paperwork block you from enjoying your travels, while it's for vacation or employment.

So long as your application doesn't raise any red flags and you have sufficient money to support yourself for the length of your stay, then you need to have a superior likelihood of being approved.  Basically, you're writing a sworn statement stating that you're currently not married to a different individual in the usa.  Within this circumstance you're able to get started working immediately.

Ideas, Formulas and Shortcuts for Taiwan E-visa Foreigners who would like to go to Tibetan settlements are needed to find prior permission from the Home Ministry and receive a permit.  If you would like to work you might have to to have a work permit and a resident visa. Visa fees are available here.

Taiwan E-visa - Is it a Scam? The only situation where you'd require a visa is if you want to know more about assembling a Taiwan bank account, in which case you'd require a visa to acquire the ID, to receive the bank account.  If you're unclear about any part of the entry requirements, or you require further reassurance, you're want to get hold of the embassy, higher commission or consulate of the nation or territory you're travelling to.  The rest of the passport holders wishing to enjoy a stay in Egypt, whatever the duration and aim of the stay, are required to acquire a visa to go to the nation.

| If Chinese information is needed, please enter the info in traditional Chinese.  I truly do HOPE that you'll also get APPROVED.

Taiwan visa requirements and fees change all of the time, therefore it would be a fantastic notion to have a look at the official site of the Bureau of Consular Affairs of Taiwan to be certain you're current. You require a valid passport and visa to go to Taiwan for over 90 days.  You must be in a position to present your valid visa together with your passport when you enter Taiwan.

Taiwan residents wishing to go to Hong Kong can submit their pre-arrival registration on the internet or learn more at the Hong Kong Immigration Department site.  Moreover, when you arrive in Taiwan, you might be asked to submit different documents also.  Taiwan is a perfect destination for Indian travelers who need to learn more about the wild east.

The only situation where you'd require a visa is if you want to know more about assembling a Taiwan bank account, in which case you'd require a visa to acquire the ID, to receive the bank account.  It's well worth mentioning that the e-visa scheme enables a tourist to remain in the country for a maximum of two months.  It isn't recognized by the majority of countries as a sovereign nation.

To avail the scheme, an on-line application is necessary to be submitted together with an onward or return ticket.  Visa-exempt visitors cannot extend their stay.  There's no longer a charge for the on-line visa services.

The Hidden Facts on Taiwan E-visa It is possible to print out a duplicate of the approval and carry out with your trip documents.  Invitation letter in case you go to Taiwan for business purposes, you might have received an invitation letter, but this isn't always applicable.  All application documents won't be returned.

My final travel dream is to visit Studio Ghibli museum.  You must make an application for the Indian e-tourist visa at least four business days before your travel date from your house country or where you're travelling from.  It will not just save your time and money but in addition make your trip more comfortable.

This form of method is created to generate the Canadian visit to Vietnam simpler and more economical.  Basically, you're writing a sworn statement stating that you're currently not married to a different individual in the usa.   People appearing to move to Taiwan who can't get a work or family based visa may start looking into studying Chinese.

E-visa India won't be accountable for any delay in the process due non availability of suitable documents.  The internet procedure is easy, cheap, and will spare you lots of hassle.  Take note that if there's any mistake in the form, you have to resubmit it again.

What Taiwan E-visa Is - and What it Is Not Foreigners who would like to go to Tibetan settlements are needed to find prior permission from the Home Ministry and receive a permit.  No, there's no need to submit an application for a visa sticker, or E-visa nor a web-based Travel Authorization Certificate before boarding an airplane or cruise ship.  Visa fees are available here.

The birth certificate ought to be at least 6 months, and ought to be original.  It is also feasible to submit an application for a multiple visa with a maximum length of 60 days for each entry.  In the event the holder wants to apply for another ROC Travel Authorization Certificate, they must do so seven days before the expiry of the present certificate.

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 32: Almost Interrogation

Becoming The Mask

@archaeopter-ace, @eurydykakaput, and @tunafishprincess helped out with this chapter - thanks, all!

Barbara arrived at the bistro first. She was tempted by the stew, but opted for the fish and chips. Those would be less likely to stain the seat of her car if the container tipped. She perched on one of the benches that sat on either side of the hostess stand while she waited.

Walter didn't keep her waiting for long. He greeted her scarcely a beat after a waitress offered Barbara coffee.

The waitress looked uncertainly between Walter and Barbara. She kept her arm, carrying the pot of coffee, between the standing man and the seated woman, ever so casually. She seemed ready to politely but firmly direct Walter to a table, or the opposite bench, before Barbara greeted him and gestured for him to sit down.

Barbara made a mental note to come back to this place, and to try to get that waitress so she could leave her a good tip. She'd had men ask to join her while attempting to dine alone in the past, and the waitstaff didn't always notice he might be unwelcome, leaving it to Barbara to try and get out of an awkward situation when she was supposed to be relaxing. It happened less often, since college, but still once in a while.

"Under other circumstances, I might suggest wine," said Walter. "This place has a higher-quality selection than its casual décor might suggest. But I suspect we'd both prefer to keep our wits about us."

"Also, it's barely noon."

The waitress poured a mug for each of them, and Walter also asked for fish and chips.

"To go?" He glanced at Barbara as he said it, and she nodded. "Yes, to go."

Barbara got out a small book. "I've been writing down my questions. I didn't want to forget any. I'm sure I'll come up with more as we talk."

"The park offers some privacy, if you'd like to stay in public spaces."

"I was actually thinking of my house."

Walter looked startled. She supposed it looked odd, inviting a Changeling in practically right after throwing another one out. Barbara had debated a few places, after Walter agreed to meet with her, and decided she wanted to stay on her home turf.

As long as neither was the one preparing food or drink, nobody should come out of this poisoned or drugged.

There was a half-formed joke in her mind about her cooking and poison and the usefulness of poison in interrogation. Barbara didn't trust her ability to deliver it as wittily as her imagination did, since she could only catch the concept rather than the exact words.

"Why him?"

That was the first, most urgent question. It ripped out of her while they were still in the driveway, in a snarled hiss.

"Why Jay-Jay? Out of all the babies in the world, all the babies in this town, why mine?"

"I don't know." Walter had the gall to keep his expression neutral; no fear; no apology. "There are parameters, but there's a certain degree of randomness as well, to avoid predictable patterns."

"That's not an answer."

None of her neighbours were in sight. That was probably the only reason he elaborated while outside.

"The switches are generally done with affluent families, initially to increase the odds of surviving childhood in times when infant mortality was high. I believe most in this country in the past two centuries have been white or white-passing, to facilitate later assertion of social dominance in this political climate. It's also possible you or your husband had an influential friend, who believed they were doing you a favour by keeping your child out of harm's way."

"Out of – Jim said – What exactly happens to them?" Being stuck in a dimension with human-eating trolls sounded very much like Jay-Jay was in harm's way, to Barbara.

Barbara opened the front door sharply and Walter, when she gestured sharply at him, preceded her into the house.

"It's a complex process. There are several steps."

Barbara tugged the door shut but didn't lock it.

"The first is – well, technically the first is the creation of the Changeling. The Familiar comes later. Once selected – usually by the goblins, though as I've said, it's not unheard of for a Changeling to request that a friend's infant relative be taken – the Changeling is brought out of the Darklands and the bonding ritual occurs."

Walter sat at the dining room table. Barbara took her food with her into the kitchen while she got cutlery for both of them. Walter projected his voice a touch louder so she could still hear him clearly.

"This usually happens in the infant's room, so the new Familiar can be taken back to the Darklands right away, lessening the window of time in which a caregiver might discover an empty cradle."

"What happens if they're caught?" She sat across from Walter and passed him a knife and fork.

"Hopefully, as caretakers to an infant, the human is sufficiently sleep-deprived they can be convinced they were dreaming. Goblins are adept at chaos magic, including illusions."

Barbara had new questions now. She dug out her notepad and scribbled –goblin illusions? so she would remember it later.

"In any case, the Age Pause is transferred from the Changeling to the Familiar, and the Changeling's glamour is tied to this particular human. Should any harm befall the Familiar, the glamour will fail and the Changeling will be forcibly reverted back to troll form. The spell is anchored when the Familiar is brought into the Darklands. Taking the Familiar out of the Darklands will also deprive the Changeling of their human form."

Barbara scribbled faster, resorting to crude shorthand for some words.

–age pause? –what if C is Drklnd & F is 'real world'? –is 1C:1F or many Cs:1F?

"What happens to the Familiars if they get back to the real world?"

"Surface," Walter corrected her.

"Do they … start aging again, or rapidly age though all the years they missed, or are they still stuck?"

If she got Jay-Jay back, would he be a permanent baby; or perhaps an infant in an adolescent body?

That sounds like my first boyfriend. No, Barbara, focus.

"So far as I know, the Age Pause has to be removed from an individual for them to begin aging again. Although Changeling aging is distorted in any case."

Barbara skipped ahead a few questions.

"What do you mean, distorted? How old are you? How old is Jim? And, what does that mean in human terms?"

Walt ate a chip and folded his hands. He chewed thoughtfully.

"When Changelings become Changelings," he said once he'd swallowed, "our aging is magically halted. We do age mentally, still, but not physically. We're at the, I would say, equivalent of early toddler-hood in most cases, at this time."

Barbara inhaled sharply. She'd been cutting her fish – her knife made an odd squeak, grating suddenly on the Styrofoam box.

"When we get Familiars, we age at a human rate until the body is fully mature – sometime between twenty and thirty years – and then finally go back to aging like trolls. I believe a one-to-fifteen year ratio is accurate, but my dealings with … non-Changeling trolls, is considerably less extensive than my dealings with humans."

Walt ate another chip.

"I would estimate my age to be between seven and eight hundred – the equivalent, as my human appearance also matches, of being in my early fifties. I was one of the first successful Changelings."

He held his head up a bit higher when he said that. Barbara could hear pride in his voice over the ringing in her ears at the implications of how old Jim might be.

"Jim is considerably younger. He was one of the last Changelings created before – well. He can't be younger than four hundred and I doubt he's four-fifty yet, so I'd say the human equivalent would be the mid to late twenties."

Okay. That … that wasn't as bad as it could've been.

God, she was grateful they'd bottle-fed him, though.

She'd been a new medical student, and between school and a baby the stress had her barely producing milk, and she'd had to pump to be sure he'd have any real breastmilk and they'd had to use formula as well to make sure he'd get enough to eat.

It had been yet another source of guilt and stress at the time, to not be nursing her baby, but now it was one less thing to feel awkward about after learning he wasn't really a baby.

"Jumping back a bit in topic," she said, "what happens to the Familiars in the Darklands?"

"The goblins attend their personal needs. Feeding, diapering, guarding, comforting …" He shrugged. "I know very little of what they do, but I do know that the children are cuddled and played with as well as fed and cleaned."

"That mirror trick?"

"Catoptromancy. Also known as captromancy or enoptromancy." Walter grimaced. "Although I believe some of my brethren have taken to calling it the 'spit-check'."

Brethren. That word, in this context, made Barbara uneasy.

"How many of you are there?"

"Several hundred." His expression closed off. "I obviously can't give you exact numbers, nor confirm or deny any Changelings' identities save those you've met as Changelings."

Well, so much for asking Walter if Tobias Domzalski was a Changeling, then. She'd have to ask Jim instead.

"And what are you … Changelings, I mean, as a whole … Jim said you're spies, but what is it you're trying to do?"

Walter ate some fish. Barbara started her chips. After a half minute of silence, she thought he might refuse to answer her.

"That's … complicated."

"So uncomplicate it. If Changelings could have, hypothetically, anything in the world, but only if they all agreed on one thing to wish for –"

"Respect."

"… That doesn't sound that complicated."

"Oh, but it is. There's a great deal you've yet to learn about troll politics, Barbara. The issue of whether humans count as food is only a fraction of it."

At least he was saying it like she was inexperienced in the subject but could learn, not like she was stupid for not knowing already. He was probably a good teacher, part of Barbara thought.

"To partially answer the initial question, we're raised to follow and obey Gunmar. Many still serve him. Other have … gone native among humans, or become disillusioned with promises of power from one who cannot be bothered to extend even basic courtesy."

She nodded. "Charismatic leader, cultish structure, with a few starting to see other options and break loose?"

"… In summary, yes. I, personally, am in something of a position of leadership – I mentioned my, ah, seniority – and I hope to recruit my fellow Changelings in turning against Gunmar entirely. With the Trollhunter on our side, it's possible we won't simply be butchered by every other troll tribe the minute we're away from the Gumm-Gumms' protection."

"How can they be protecting you? They're in another dimension."

"Metaphorical protection. Strength and intimidation. Our current and greatest protection is, of course, our stealth."

That reminded Barbara of another of the questions she'd written down.

"I noticed Jim and Zelda had longer legs, proportionally, than those other three trolls. Is that normal, for Changelings? Do you have human traits that stay even when you're … troll-shaped?"

Walter chuckled. "No, that's a matter of troll race. The three of us happen to come from long-legged tribes."

Barbara still hadn't seen Walt's troll form. She tried to imagine it and nothing came to mind, save for a vague image cobbled together from Jim and Nomura and those other three trolls. Was he blue, maybe? Three of the five trolls she's seen so far had been blue.

"The only human feature – well, some have their hair or eye colour change when bound to their Familiars, or grow an extra finger on each hand, and we usually have a bit more appreciation for human foods in our stone skins than Jim tells me most trolls do – but the only universal human feature Changelings keep in our troll forms is that sunlight does not harm us. Which is, itself, debatable as a human feature, as we have it before we're assigned Familiars."

"What about as humans; do you still have troll features?"

Walter waved vaguely. "There's often a passing resemblance between the two forms, but considering the degree to which one's appearance is influenced by wardrobe and hair style, it could be induced rather than innate. An appetite for more trollish food, which can be passed off as pica, if caught."

Barbara suddenly and vividly remembered Jim, six years old and eating eggshells, and his offer to crush them and cook them into his omelette after she warned him of salmonella.

"Some have heightened senses or a hint of their true strength, but that varies a great deal and might just indicate some quirk of their Familiar's physiology."

To Barbara's shock, his eyes glowed yellow, his irises turning red.

"Again, our universal traits are debated – some, but not all, trolls have the ability to make their eyes glow."

"How can you see like that? With the light source in your eye, you should be blinding yourself."

"… Magic?"

"That's not an explanation!"

"I'm sorry, Dr Lake, but not being a physician myself, I've only a limited knowledge of my own anatomy. And as magic is real –"

… That's right, it was, wasn't it? Amazing how that detail, of all things, could ever slip Barbara's mind …

"– and trolls are an innately magical species, and Changelings are further enhanced with magic, I stand by my statement. Magic allows our physics-defying eyes to function, just as it allows our physics- and biology-defying transformations to occur."

"How deep does that go? You – you said something about goblins and illusions, earlier, is that what this is?" gesturing at him. "A … a shell? If you went through surgery, would we hit troll parts if we went deep enough?"

Walter shifted in his seat, now looking uncomfortable. "As far as I know, the transformation runs all the way through, save for the magic itself, which is not yet detectible by human medical instruments."

"So, a blood test would show you're human if you took one like this?"

"As far as I know, the majority of tests would indicate us to be members of your species. The only failure would be genetic compatibility, but that's because we've been sterilized, not because our shapeshifting is inadequate."

Barbara's brain fizzled. That had, ah, not been a question it occurred to her to ask. Walter's expression went from discomfort back to thoughtfulness.

"Although I suppose it could also be because the anchors of our human forms are sexually immature, and the sterilization only applies to our troll forms. Injuries and new scars carry over, but scars that we had before being tied to our Familiars do not, so why would an induced sterility remain if our bodies are completely reforming?"

He shook his head.

"It's irrelevant, in any case. Contraceptive use is strongly encouraged. An unplanned pregnancy would be the least convenient way to discover what we've been told was … incorrect."

"On a completely different note," Barbara looked frantically at her list, "what happens if a Changeling goes back to the Darklands and their Familiar is on the surface? Can they transform as long as they're in different dimension?"

Walter looked startled. He carefully gathered his utensils and cut a piece of fish.

"I don't know." He chewed a moment. "I suppose it's possible, but it's never been tested."

"What about – multiple Changelings with the same Familiar?"

"That one was tested once. A pair of Changelings, either under cover as a married couple or truly married, I don't recall; it doesn't truly matter; they took in an abandoned human infant, intending to turn it over to the goblins and bring another Changeling out of the Darklands."

Barbara wasn't sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, an abandoned child would be given a home and care; on the other, they'd never actually grow up, just be stuck in a crib in a cave forever.

"As they were moving between towns in any case, they tried to bring out two new Changelings to pass off as twins. The bond was unstable and only one of the new Changelings could be disguised at a time, so the experiment was deemed a failure."

"Does it work the other way around? Can one Changeling have more than one Familiar?" Creating multiple disguises that way would be smart, if cruel.

"One of the 'twins' later volunteered to test exactly that, in hopes of a stable human form at last. Attempting to forge that bond created magical backlash such that the Changeling died."

Tears welled up in Barbara's eyes, imagining hearing an explosion in Jay-Jay's room and running in to find –

"There was another volunteer at a later time," Walter continued, "hypothesizing the backlash was because the 'twin' had an unstable bond already, but the same results occurred. The human babies," finally seeing Barbara's dismay, "were fine, likely because they didn't already have mass quantities of magic coursing through them."

"Do you have to use Familiars? You said goblins can cast illusions; if you're already immune to sunlight, can't you just use those to look human?"

"Not stably or long-term."

Barbara had to gulp to force down the bile rising in her throat when she reached one of the most urgent questions on her list.

"… What happens … to the baby … if the Changeling … dies?"

"Nothing."

She didn't believe him.

"Goblins are immensely protective of those they consider their own. If a Changeling's death brought direct harm to our Familiars, the goblins would have made their displeasure known."

… She might believe that he believed that.

"And after … everything, that happened last week … what's going to happen to Jim?"

Walter folded his hands.

"That depends on a variety of factors. His actions, Trollmarket's actions, my own, other Changelings', yours … My personal ideal would be that he inspires our people to set Gunmar aside and carve out our own place in the world, unbeholden to anyone else, and that his position as Trollhunter gives him enough clout with other tribes that we are at least left to our own devices while establishing that place, rather than attacked at every turn."

Hidden in the basement, listening at the pipe, Draal snorted at the Changeling's optimism.

Previous Chapter (Mostly Changeling politics)

Table of Contents 

Next Chapter (Jim and Nomura)

You'll notice Walt left some things out of his explanation, such as Morgana, or polymorphs. 

I seriously debated whether this chapter should be from his point of view, to note all the things he's carefully not saying, but ... well, unless it's one of my own headcanons (which will be expanded on elsewhere in the fic anyways), there wouldn’t be much if any new information for the audience in his inner monologue. Barbara’s reactions felt like they would be more interesting to explore.

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Ghost of you, 15/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 15/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: "She felt it, it was time to speak about the weight on her shoulders. Something she had never done before."

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“'Cause I'd rather feel your pain than nothing at all.” - Three Doors Down.

CHAPTER 15:

Amy woke up slowly. She was wrapped into a cocoon of warmth and well-being. She didn’t remember when was the last time she had felt so well. She stretched her body. She was taking all her time. She didn’t want to lose this precious well-being she hadn’t felt in ages. There was someone lay by her side. She rolled on her side and cuddled into the warm body beside her. She heard a smile and someone wrapped an arm around her. She must be dreaming but that dream was pleasurable. She liked it. She lazily wrapped her arm around that person. She didn’t know what she had expected but certainly not to be so close to a woman. This surprised her beyond words and she reluctantly rolled away from the unknown person she liked cuddling into. She couldn’t let herself go that way. The other woman reacted by trying to soothe her but Amy was too sleepy to be calmed down so easily. She needed to clear her mind first. Moaning, she pushed the hand away and rubbed her eyes. She stretched her body and looked around her. She wasn’t in her office but she wasn’t in her house either. It was a room she didn’t know. Had she done it again? Had she drunk until she had a blackout and been brought home by some stranger? There were pictures on the wall facing the bed. Pictures of a couple. Great, the woman she was with was married. She would have to deal with another cheated husband. She knew well that she didn’t have any control on herself when she was drunk. It was only a way to mute her pain. She was doing this when it was too strong, when it was suffocating her. She focused on the pictures on the wall. She wanted to see what the man she would have to face in the near future – because fate always made sure she faced them – looked like and the last pieces of the puzzle clicked together. It was Maxence Spitz. She remembered how she had ended up here. She had watched Rose work with Maxence for a while and the scientist had taken her into the private parts of the lab. They had had a quick lunch and they had settled down here. After a quick shower, they had lain down in bed and, reassured that she wasn’t alone for once, Amy had fallen asleep rather quickly. How much time had she slept? Had Rose watched her while she was asleep or had she slept too? It felt weird to be here, in this bed, with the wife of the man supposed to be her boss at the moment. But it was the start of a friendship. “How long have I slept?” A certain time according to her croaked voice and the feeling of being rested. She hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. It was before… “I’d say eight solid hours.” “Eight hours?” “You needed that sleep.” “And you?” “A couple hours.” Amy looked up at Rose. She was sat against a pile of pillows, glasses on her head and a book on her lap. She was reading and marking pages by folding their upper corner. Probably a book about her current researches. She looked as exhausted as before though. “You don’t look like someone who’s slept.” “Never said it was a good sleep.” “Do you have nightmares?” “I’m not the only one.” Rose looked away from her book to stare at Amy. Those whiskey eyes were clear on the meaning of those words. Somewhen during the night she had dreamt of this event and she must have screamed and cried and struggled against the sheets. “Sorry.” “Don’t be. I know what it is.” If there was something nice about Rose, it was that she wasn’t asking questions. She was giving her the time to consider the eventuality and if she wasn’t talking, she wouldn’t insist. She would wait until she was ready. “We all have our demons. You know mine already.” “But you don’t know mine.” “You’re not forced to talk to me.” “You’ve been comforting me, that’s the least I can do. You’re also the only one to care about me here.” Her voice was sad when she evoked this lack of friends in her surroundings. Rose was the first one to ever hold a hand out to her in this place and it felt amazing to have someone like her so close to her. Somehow, it felt easier to make friends in such a situation. She hesitantly snuggled closer to her new friend. “In my hometown, I’m known to sleep with married women,” she chuckled. “It only happened once but you know how people are.” “We all do mistakes.” “When my pain was suffocating me, I was going to a pub and drinking until I couldn’t feel it anymore. Once, I was taken home by a woman and I woke up in her bed. Only to be caught by her husband a couple hours later.” Amy fell silent after this admission. She was waiting for the judgement to come. People always judged a woman that was sleeping with someone married or that was having relations with another woman. But Rose didn’t say a thing. Instead, she pointed to a picture on the wall. A younger version of her and Maxence together in a park. Maxence had his arms around Rose and he was smiling brightly. Rose was just as happy on this picture. “This was the day we admitted our feelings to each other. It was one month after I broke up with Liv.” “You mean…” “Olivia Baxter, our doctor. We’ve known each other since forever. I’m totally bi. Not gonna judge you on this one.” “We didn’t…” “No.” Amy was relieved to know this at least. A friend that wasn’t judging her and that hadn’t let her make another mistake. Finally someone open minded. “Not enough alcohol in this building for us to be drunk. And I’m faithful.” “I used to be,” sadly murmured the therapist. She sat up and stared at the wall before her. She felt it, it was time to speak about the weight on her shoulders. Something she had never done before but Rose was offering her the trust and friendship she needed. It was all new but she knew deep down that she could say anything to this woman. She would listen and never judge. Hopefully. As a way to prove it, Rose took her hand and gently squeezed it. “The virus was already out when it happened. It wasn’t as bad as it is now. We could go out and have fun. And that’s what we did, my husband and son and I. There was a fair in our little town and we’ve spent the day there. It was a long and amazing day. My little boy, my William…” Her voice trailed off and she stopped speaking for a couple minutes. The anxiety was strangling her again. Rose didn’t say anything, she just stroked her hand with her thumb. A way to reassure her, to tell her that she wasn’t alone. After all, she was going through a loss too and she knew what it was. There was nothing to say at the moment. She could only listen. “We let him eat too much sugar and he was sick. I was driving so Bob, my husband, could deal with our son. He was blaming me for buying so much candy floss and so many sweets and I was trying to argue that our son’s happiness was the only thing that mattered. Every kid experiences sickness because of sweets at one point. But this argument signed our end. It distracted us.” She closed her eyes as the memories flew into her mind. She could see herself driving, her husband turned to watch William who was complaining about a belly ache. Two parents arguing and a sick child. She was looking for a place to stop the car so they could get out and breathe some fresh air to make the nausea disappear. And this man came out of nowhere. She brutally steered to avoid him and she lost the control of the car. No matter how hard she was trying to get the control back, the car kept sliding on the road and her husband was yelling at her and it was disturbing her. What had to happen happened. The car left the road and collided with a tree. The shock was so violent and so sudden that the airbags didn’t work. Her head bumped against the steering wheel and she thought it was over for her. “When I woke up, I was in the ICU. They waited until I was transferred to the light cares unit before telling me the truth. They haven’t suffered, they say. The collision killed them both instantly.” This was the last straw. Amy burst into tears and Rose wrapped her arms around her. She hugged her tight and rubbed her back while she cried all the pain that was still hurting her heart.

x

Zachary was worried. He had watched Maxence working and entering all the formula he had written on the wall on his personal space. Zachary had transferred the data to Tegan for him to approve of them. He would have to talk with Rose to be sure this was exact and to use those formula for their researches. But that wasn’t the reason why Zachary was so worried. After he was done, Maxence had cleaned the walls and instead of pacing around his cage, he had lain down and closed his eyes as if he was gonna sleep. At first, Zachary had thought he was doing it out of habit – a habit from when he was human – or because he was simply bored and wanted to look at the ceiling like he was often doing. Allegro was watching a movie in his cell. There was nothing to worry about for him. However, for Maxence, things were getting complicated. His brain seemed to have switched to a standby mode. A sort of sleep that wasn’t really sleep. He was just lying there with his eyes closed. Zachary was keeping an eye on his vital signs. His brain activity had reduced to the minimum, to the very minimum. If Zach didn’t have the other information under his eyes, he would think that the man was dead or about to be. Maybe he was dying. Zachary wasn’t very qualified on this field but he was clever enough to understand that something was wrong. The vital signs weren’t good at all. He entered an alert on their interactive group work. Someone needed to come and do a check up on him. Just to be sure that the fake cure given to him wasn’t having any effect on him anymore. Just a precaution not to lose him all of a sudden. Tegan was busy with the hacker and the maker of this fake cure at the moment and he wouldn’t be able to come before he was done. Rose had gone with Amy a little moment ago and they hadn’t come back yet. Jack and Clara were checking new formulas with Martha. Liv was probably getting some rest somewhere. All the qualified people of this team were busy elsewhere. Zachary hoped they would see the alert before anything happened to Maxence. That could be really bad. Allegro, on the other hand, was perfectly fine. All the effects of the ultraviolet were gone since they had turned off the lights and he hadn’t had any other fit of anger. Another check up was supposed to be done on him. If he was getting three negatives in a row, he would be able to come out of this place. It would be a relief but he wasn’t putting his hopes too high. He was bored in this cage but he was also very safe. Zachary was often chatting with him whenever he was having a small break. “Any good zombie movies to recommend to me?” It was just yesterday. Allegro was in a quite good mood and he wanted to joke. A zombie movie really was the easiest of jokes in the current times. That was why Allegro had asked for this. “What makes you think I’m a fan of zombie movies?” “You’re quite young. Young people love scaring themselves with those sorts of movies.” “Sorry to disappoint you, I’m prefer comedies and anime series. I love a good documentary too.” “Still a kid inside.” “What’s the point of growing up if you can’t be childish at times?” “I like your philosophy but I unfortunately have seen too many horrors to find my innocence again.” Just like Jack, Allegro had been a soldier before. When his contract with the army was over, he hadn’t renewed it. Instead, he had started looking for small jobs that were less stressful and that didn’t require traveling that much. That’s how he had ended up being a security member of this lab. Not a bad job during the good times. “You’re locked in there for a while, why not bringing back all those memories from your childhood? I’m sure the cartoons you used to watch are still available.” “How old do you think I am?” Zachary chuckled. He knew how old Allegro was. He was gonna turn forty soon. On normal times, some of his colleagues would have organised a small surprise party. Just to celebrate this special day. This lab could be such a perfect place sometimes. “Old enough to listen to those songs no one knows on Jazz FM.” “I like this radio. It’s relaxing.” “More a fan of Beethoven, me.” “That is surprising.” “I like rock music. I wish I could have gone to a Maiden concert. I guess it’s a dream that will never come true though.” “You can’t know. They maybe will find a cure that will save this world.” “It will take a while before people start trusting other people again to gather into public places.” “There’s this band I really like. A French band. It’s quite special but it’s really good. Ever heard of Indochine?” “If that’s not about this part of the world, then, I don’t what it is.” “It inspired the name. Listen to it. It’s really nice.” That’s how Zach had ended up on YouTube to listen to that French band while Allegro was taking a nap. Old school, bit weird, but very good. He really liked the music. Some of their songs were bringing energy and good vibes. It certainly was appreciated. “Are you watching one of those cartoons again?” joked Allegro. “Nope.” “That seems entertaining.” “It is. That’s the band you’ve told me about. I don’t understand half the lyrics but their music is nice.” “You can’t understand them. There isn’t any sense to their lyrics most of the time.” “Not sure about it.” “That’s not what’s causing you to be so anxious though.” “No. I’m keeping an eye on Maxence’s vital signs and they haven’t been good for a couple hours. I’ve entered an alert but no one has seen it yet.” “Is this that bad?” “If there wasn’t this information on my screen, I’d thought he’s dead. He hasn’t moved in hours.” “And no one had come? That’s weird.” “They’re all busy. T is on the hacker case. Rose is with the therapist. Jack and Clara and Martha are busy with some new formulas. I have no idea where Liv can be. And there’s nothing…” He was interrupted in his explanation by the striding sound and the red alert on his screens. Maxence sat up straight suddenly, gasping for air. He tapped the wall for someone to help him. Zach was powerless but thankfully, he saw Liv, fully dressed into a hazmat suit, running straight to his cage. She had seen the alert, he thought with relief. Maxence was coughing now. He still couldn’t breathe. He fell down the bed, on his hands and knees. Liv tried to talk to him but he wasn’t listening. All he wanted was air. She placed an oxygen mask on his face. He greedily breathed in that pure air finally reaching his lungs. “Breathe slowly, Maxence. Very slowly.” He wasn’t listening. He was too focused on taking as much air as he could. He was feeling better now that he could breathe again. He looked up at Liv and saw the sadness and fear in her eyes. She pressed her fingers on his ear briefly and pulled them back. The tip of her gloves was covered with a crimson sticky fluid. Blood. He touched his face, his ears, his nose, his mouth and his fingers were covered with the same blood. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. “We’re gonna have to make you go through another scan.” She had seen his latest results and they were bad. Jack had created an alert about it earlier this week. Zachary’s had made an echo to this alert and was telling them that the situation was getting worse. Maxence was fighting the virus and it was slowly killing him. Liv cupped his cheek. “You have to stop fighting. I know you don’t want to, but you have to. It’s important. You’re dying, Maxence.” Dying. The word echoed in his mind. Wasn’t he already dying? Wasn’t he dead since the moment he had been infected? He wanted to get better and he needed to be himself to find that cure. He couldn’t be himself if he stopped fighting. Rose wanted him to fight. So he had to keep fighting. Whatever it caused him. “I’m serious, Max. You might not hold on until we find that cure if you don’t let the virus win.” He shook his head and put the mask back on his face. Liv was amazed to see how aware he was of his surroundings. She knew it was because he was fighting but it was still a shock to see it. “Rose will understand. Nightwalkers don’t die from the virus unless they get involved in fights. You can’t be both. You’ll get back to your real self, but not now.” He pushed the mask away once again. His breathing was much better. He didn’t need it anymore. He gave it back to Liv. She would probably have to destroy it now. She wouldn’t use it on someone healthy. Or she would keep it for him if he was having another fit. “You can let go. It’s okay.” He didn’t want to. He refused to. He didn’t want to abandon his friends, his team. He wanted to help them as much as he could. Even if he had to die for this. He shook his head and Liv took her hand away from his face. “I’ll always be there to save you like you’ve saved me if you keep fighting. I won’t let you die.” He was surprised by the sudden change of speech from the young woman. What was making her change her mind so quickly? There must be a reason for that. “You never gave up when I was in troubles,” she murmured. “So I’m never gonna give up until you’re better.” Next thing he knew, she was hugging him tight. The plastic of the suit creaked. It was rather unpleasant to feel this against his skin but it was the first time he was given a hug in forever. So he hugged her back. It wasn’t the same as hugging Rose but it was okay. He liked it. Finally someone wasn’t afraid of the nightwalker him.

x

Tegan quickly walked to the public workspace where Camden and Donna were working. Camden had asked for him to come because they had found a clue for the patient zero. Even if it was good news, he wasn’t pleased to be interrupted in his rest. He had sorted things out with Colin and made him lock away in an empty area of the lab with guards to be sure he wouldn’t run away. It was also for him to be fed and taken care of if there was any problem. This was a solved case. While he was resting after Liv healed him, there had been this alert from Zachary that was causing him to be anxious. So anxious that he was on the edge of panicking. That was why Liv had insisted on him resting. She would check on Maxence and keep him updated. His head was pounding and his face was painful. Colin had quite a punch and doing nothing to protect himself had been a clever but dangerous move. He was paying for it but that pain was highly satisfying knowing the result. He had remained on the couch of his office for a moment before another mail came. A mail from Camden requiring his presence immediately. He had sighed and made his way there. He couldn’t refuse any clue when it was for a cure that would save Maxence. “I hope that’s not a deadlock. I’m not in the mood for fake hopes.” Speaking was hurting because it was using too many muscles that were bruised and sensitive but he couldn’t avoid this conversation. It was too crucial. Donna opened her eyes wide when she saw his face and Camden raised an interrogative eyebrow. This place was rather interesting in the end. The interactions between the scientists seemed to be highly charged. More than in a usual lockdown situation. There were personal matters interfering. It was fascinating. “What has happened to you?” “Bad moves while training.” “I’ve studied biology. This is not an accident.” “Whatever. This is not what brings me here, right?” “Jack and Clara will tell you I’m a very curious man.” “He is,” confirmed Donna. “And I never give up until I have my answers.” “That’s also true,” sighed the red-haired woman. “Well, look for all the answers you want and give me what I’ve come for.” Tegan sat down on the chair facing Camden and pushed the cardboard boxes that were in front of him. He folded his arms on his chest. He wanted to go back to his couch with an ice pack and an aspirin. But he was as curious as Camden and wanted his answers. “As a scientist, you must know what the Xeroderma Pigmentosum is.” “Yes. An extremely rare disease that makes every patient unable to bear the UV lights.” “And did you know there were researches to find a cure?” “Just like every cancer on Earth, there always has been researches for Xeroderma Pigmentosum. Get straight to the point.” Camden gathered a couple of papers that were scattered in front of him and pushed them toward Tegan. The neurologist took them. He didn’t understand where Camden was going but it was because his pain was distracting him. “We’ve found out that the most important researches were done by someone called Myrtle Appleton. Here, in England.” “However,” continued Donna, “she was sacked from the lab she was working in because she was using unconventional methods. It was a couple days before the virus hit the world officially.” “But she didn’t stop her researches. She has done them clandestinely.” “So, you’re telling me that this Myrtle Appleton was running experiences secretly and that one of these experiences might have gone wrong and provoked this whole mess?” “Yes.” Tegan put the documents down. He hadn’t even read them. His mind was focused on something else, something that didn’t please him at all. He jumped to his feet and left the workspace. He made his way to the empty part of the building where Colin was locked. Their paths kept crossing and Tegan really, really hated it…

To be continued...

Ghost of you © | 2017 - 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

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In the next chapter:

Colin was outrageously relaxed for someone who had been sacked and locked away. Tegan was resisting the envy of throwing him out of the lab and letting him see how he would survive out there. It was a chance that it hadn’t done it yet since Colin was gonna be really useful if he accepted to speak. Tegan wouldn’t get inside his prison. It would be playing Colin’s game. He would just do what he had to do by staying outside. One black eye was enough for him. He observed Colin. The scientist was laid on the desk of the room and watching the ceiling. He had a smirk on his face. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the whole situation. He was annoyed to have been caught but he was living it quite well. And this was infuriating Tegan. How could this mad scientist be so happy with himself when he almost killed a man?

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[ramheavenandhell]

Ricking the Routine – Chapter 1: Every Day the Same

AN: Storage Rick is actually one of my all-time favorite Ricks and I've been wondering what his life must be like. So, this basically just a write down of my head cannons. As always, I don't own RaM or Pocket Mortys, however Steampunk Rick and his Morty are mine (you can have them though. It’s not like they're exclusive…) Warnings: none for this chapter other than some mentioned Rick/Morty on the side Summary: Storage Rick is being fed up by his monotonous life. Every day is the same. Always the same annoyingly boring routine. Will ever anything change?

Ricking the Routine – Chapter 1: Every Day the Same Storage Rick groaned a little as he stretched his arms over his head and his joints made popping sounds. He stood behind the counter of the Morty Day Care and was bored – like always. Everything was just so dull. His life. His job. There was never any real change. However, he knew that he should appreciate what he had. Sure, he could just quit this job and then he would get reassigned a new one, but everyone on the Citadel knew that getting a job reassignment was always a step down, because each new job you would get would always be worse and more underpaid than your previous one. There was just no way to work your way up on the Citadel of Ricks. Either you started big or you remained in the slums. In that way, the system was shit. He shifted the toothpick from the right to the left corner of his mouth. Currently, he wasn't very busy and his eyes roamed over the near vicinity that was in his field of view. In the distance, you could see a few Ricks with a bunch of Mortys trailing behind them. A green slimy alien walked an Exo-Omega Morty on a leash, as if he was no more than just a simple pet. There were also some Ricks bustling about without a Morty accompanying them. The sight of those had become gradually fewer on the Citadel ever since the Pocket Morty craze had started to break loose. Storage Rick's eyes shifted over to the guard, who had currently shift and stood next to the electrical fence. Ever since the time someone broke into the Day Care and stole all the Mortys, the security measures had been stepped up drastically. Even up to this day, the culprit hadn't been found, but Storage Rick had a hunch as to who had done it. Yet he didn't have any proof and therefore wisely kept his mouth shut. He sighed as his eyes wandered and his mind wandered even more. He'd been working here since the place had opened up and just thought about how much it had changed since then. The work still always stayed the same though… always the same routine… His sight zeroed in on a Rick that was coming directly towards him. He had three Mortys in tow – a normal one, one that looked like a pink blob, and one that had the head of a fish instead of a normal human head. The Rick, who looked no different from your average Rick, came to a stop in front of the counter. "Welcome to Morty Day Care! What do you want? Store, Withdraw, Bootcamp, or Combine?" Storage Rick droned monotonously. He wasn't like Salesman Rick, who always put on a cheerful façade for the customers, greeting them happily and with a smile all the time. Which didn't mean that Storage Rick wasn't a nice guy or anything. He just didn't show his nice side openly to the outside world most of the time. He was still a Rick after all. The only things that clearly distinguished him from your average Rick were his clothes, the little goat patch, the toothpick clamped between his lips, the fact that he preferred to scribble notes and formulae on his arm with a ball pen instead on a whiteboard, being less drunk because he didn't drink as much—though it was mostly because his job prohibited drinking during the working hours—being a smoker and the fact that he could talk mostly without stuttering. Besides, you do eventually get tired of repeating the same sentence over and over again, a few hundred times a day. Each and every day. The other Rick just slapped a ticket that he had just fished out of his lab coat on the counter as an answer. "Withdraw." He then added finally but didn't look at Storage Rick. The customer's attention was more focused on his flask now, from which he took one big gulp. Storage Rick snatched the ticket and looked at the numbers. He put the combination into the search field of his computer and a picture and description showed up. A V Neck Morty. Owner: Rick G-77. "Your identification—" "Godammit! I was here and stored him just yesterday! Dimension G-77!" the customer Rick was furious. Everyone was pissed off with all this bureaucratic shit—and Storage Rick was so just as much as the next Rick—but it was part of his job. This also hadn't been handled as strictly before the 'great Morty stealing coup'. Storage Rick went to the back, passing a few of his employed Mortys on the way. They weren't really his Mortys—Storage Rick had in fact never had a Morty of his own—nor were they really employed, but they still worked here. These were Mortys that had been stored but never picked up again, and whose owners hadn't showed up in months. They were clearly abandoned. Since they got a roof over their heads and food for free, Storage Rick figured that they could at least help out around the place. At least some of the most useful ones like the Business Mortys, who were sorting through the paperwork, or the Buff Mortys, who would unload and shift around supplies and other stuff. Storage Rick came over to a device that looked like one of those electrical coat racks that you would find at the dry cleaner's. Mortys were wrapped up in bubble wrapper or under foils, hanging on the rack and being in a sort of cryogenic sleep, while also hooked to life support. Rick pushed a button on the machine and the hanging Mortys were rotating on the rack, one after another passing him by till he found the one that he was looking for. Just to make sure, he checked the numbers on the ticket with the tag that was attached to the V Neck Morty's ear. Seeing that it was indeed a match, he pressed another button which awakened the Morty from his sleep before he unhooked him from the life support and the rack and led the slightly disoriented Morty back to the counter to his waiting owner. Storage Rick would probably never admit it aloud, but he liked things better the way they were before. Back when catching and collecting Mortys had just started to become a thing, they didn't have that backroom or that machine. The Mortys that were stored here were awake and running around in the, by that time, smaller Day Care. They would chat with each other, read magazines or comic books, eat snacks, and they would distract and annoy him. Sure, it was harder to take care of all the little bastards back then, but in a weird way, he missed it. They were keeping him company and even though there were still the working Mortys here, it just wasn't the same anymore. "Here you go." He told the waiting Rick as he led the V Neck Morty through the hatch at the side of the counter. His voice was still rather monotonous. "Yeah. 'Kay. Thanks." The other Rick replied with equal lack of emotion in his voice. He didn't bother with any farewells or even sparing one more glance at Storage Rick as he left with his little entourage of Mortys. The Morty keeper didn't mind it though. He honestly didn't expect any pleasantries, nor could he say that he was used to anything different than this. Always the same… More time passed, but the business was running rather slow. Not that you heard Rick complain about it. It was just a little boring when there wasn't much to do. That didn't mean that he preferred the days when he was so busy that he couldn't tell up from down anymore. He nibbled on the spittle-dampened piece of wood in his mouth as he contemplated if he should waste his time doing something more useful than just standing at the counter and waiting for the next customer when another Rick steered in his direction. This one was hard to overlook, since he was dressed kind of fancy. It was Steampunk Rick and as far as Storage Rick knew, he was still fairly new to this Morty catching thing. As such, he only had his Original Steampunk Morty, as well as two other Mortys with him—the last one apparently just freshly caught. "I want to combine these two." He got straight to the point while pointing at his two caught Mortys, which were of the same type. He didn't even let Storage Rick say his introductory sentence—not that he'd complain about that. Instead, Storage Rick reached underneath the counter and produced a clipboard. He placed the board, as well as his Morty-shaped pencil, in front of Steampunk Rick and told him to fill out the paper. "Please, don't forget to pick a reason for combining." He added, seeing, as most Ricks liked to forget to check one of those boxes on the bottom of the document. It was kind of stupid, but good ol' bureaucracy. The only thing that was probably more stupid were the possible reasons listed though. 'Just want a stronger Morty' 'Two of the same kind annoy me too much' 'Bored' 'Don't want to abandon one of them in the wild' Storage Rick didn't even know why that last one was an option. No one ever picked that one. After the steampunker passed the clipboard back to him, he briefly checked if everything was filled out properly, then threw the sheet of paper on a stack where similar papers already lay. "This way." He ordered the two twin-like Mortys past the counter and into a small room to the side. There was a console and a big tank in this room. The tank was filled with green liquid and stuff like skin, hair, and even eyes, as well as other random shit that was also floating inside. Back in the old days, they didn't have a separate room for this thing, but the space got crowded quickly and they had added some extensions to the Day Care over the time. This room was one of them. "Clothes off." He ordered without even looking at the Mortys. The two boys looked like they didn't like the idea, but stripped anyways. Storage Rick meanwhile was at the console and inputted the proper settings for the fusion. This whole thing was kind of bullshit though. The Rick who had invented this machine was truly a sick old bastard. Who would even come up with such a fucked up idea? But yeah, whatever. "The underwear, too." Rick said as he saw the boys standing around still wearing their tighty whiteys. They looked at each other and then, with more reluctance then before, pulled off the last pieces of cloth that covered their bodies. Rick only rolled his eyes at this behavior. By now, he had seen more naked grandsons than he had fucked people in his life and it wasn't such a big deal. It's not like he actually wanted to see them naked. He wasn't one of those Ricks, after all. Mortyphiles, or whatever the proper term for those creeps was. Whenever he thought about it, his mind would immediately move to the one prime example that frequented the Day Care – Rick C-777, also known as Mysterious Rick. Storage Rick would bet everything he had that this old bastard was trying to get into his Mortys' pants—or probably was getting in there regularly already. It was just so obvious—the way in which he talked to his Mortys and how handsy he was with them. Always ruffling through their hair, stroking their cheeks, and kissing their foreheads. It was bordering on completely misplaced affections. And who knows what he was doing with them when no one else was watching. Generally, what a Rick did with his Morty was only that Rick's business, but raping Mortys was still considered a no go. And even though Storage Rick would always feel genuinely bad if he had one of those little bastards owned by that creeper, as long as those Mortys didn't speak up he couldn't really do anything. So, he kept his mouth shut about it. It wasn't really his business anyways. He watched the two naked Mortys climbing up the ladder and hopping into the tank. Ignoring the grimacing faces that they made as they saw all the stuff that was floating in the tank from close up, he checked to make sure that the lid was sealed tight before he started the process via the control panel on the console. The machine started to do its work and the fluid inside the tank began swirling around, getting gradually faster as the Mortys inside the tank got slowly torn into little pieces with a look of true horror on their faces as they realized what was happening to them. The tank looked like a giant blender right now. Yet, thankfully, there was no blood as the poor boys' bodies got shredded. To any bystander the sight would look just horrific and gruesome. However, Rick just stood with a bored expression, leaning against the wall, legs crossed, and took the time to take a sip from his flask. He didn't look the least bit fazed at the sight, but how could he when he saw this shit at least several times a day? It wasn't like the Mortys were getting killed or even hurt. The machine merely took their cells apart while the fluid still kept all of those loose parts alive and fine. Which meant that all that stuff that still floated inside the tank was very much alive biological matter still. That was the stuff that Mortys were made from. It also explained the lack of blood, since nothing got really damaged throughout the process, just neatly separated. Rick shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the motions inside the tank stopped and the machine proceeded to the next phase. The fluid began to whirl again, but this time in the opposite direction. Slowly, the machine placed the Morty particles together, arranging them into a fitting order and creating an all new Morty. As the machine stopped gyrating again, the lid opened and the freshly made Morty crawled out of the tank. Rick tossed him a clean, yellow towel that he had grabbed from one of the shelves. As the Morty was busy drying himself off, the older male also took a yellow t-shirt and blue jeans and passed them to the boy, too. He didn't really mind the previously worn clothes that were still lying on the floor, nor the now used towel, as one of his employer Mortys was going to clean that up later. He also didn't pay any mind to the tank, which had now even more living mass floating in it than before. It was only natural though. Two Mortys got in and only one Morty came out again, so obviously there would be "leftovers". Naturally the tank also needed some cleaning every once in a while, but the whole process was something that was kept secret. The truth was that when enough biological mass was gathered inside the tank, they would use it to create more new Mortys. Rick would be doing this in the morning, before opening the Day Care. The Mortys they "produced" here were then usually shipped off and they ended up in small capsules that you could find in the Blips and Chitz machines. This got Morty Inc. some nice money on the side, Rick figured. Too bad he didn't get to see that on his paycheck though. Not wasting any more grumbly thoughts on that, he brought the newly created Morty back to his waiting owner. "Congratulations! It's a Three Eye Morty." Storage Rick didn't bother faking any enthusiasm that should have come with the sentence. Not that it was worth it anyways, since Steampunk Rick didn't pay him any attention anymore after getting his newest addition and just up and left without a goodbye or anything. Storage Rick again didn't try to mind. After all, this was same old routine. The day continued slowly like this, Storage Rick taking some more deposits and dishing out withdrawals, before it was finally time to close up. The artificial sunlight on the Citadel had already been turned off and now the streets were only illuminated by lampposts placed here and there, as well as by all the neon lights from clubs and bars that were starting to flare with life now. The circular lighting on the ceiling cast a yellow halo in the foyer of the Morty Day Care and stretched barely over the counter. Storage Rick yawned openly and with a look at the clock, decided to call it a day. "Okay, Squirts. That's it for today." He said to his Mortys. Everyone stopped doing what they were doing and looked up at him before going on to make all the preparations for closing up shop. The Business Mortys sorted some of the last papers, the Buff Mortys placed the last boxes that they were carrying to their proper spot, and a Robot Morty stopped sorting through the supplies. The Guard Rick outside ended his evening shift as the other Guard Rick, who took over for the night shift, exchanged places with him. Storage Rick locked the door and activated the night security system. Having turned off the lights, he retreated like the rest of the Mortys to the living section, in the back of the Day Care. This part had also been added on later to the building, and it was also part of the new security measures that Storage Rick had his personal sleeping quarters here. It wasn't really a bad thing since he didn't have to pay rent for this place. The job had to come with some benefits after all. If board hadn't been free, he probably would have already left and gotten another job. He called in the Mortys that were still playing outside, behind the safety of the electronic fence, and also watched the Mortys that returned exhausted from their Bootcamp Training to take a little break and have some dinner and a good night's rest. They were still wounded from their hard training, but Rick wouldn't bother bringing them to the Healing Center until after their training session was completed. He had at least the manners to heal the Mortys before returning them to their owners, unlike other Ricks, who tended to drop off their wounded Mortys to store them at the Day Care, giving absolutely no fucks about the trouble that it caused him. Bloody floors don't clean themselves magically and even though he had Mortys who did that task, he'd rather not have to look after stored Mortys that were mortally wounded and close to death. After Storage Rick and the free running Mortys finished eating dinner in what was practically a mess hall—the Chef Mortys did a good job making a decent meal—everyone was given a bit of free time before it would be time for bed. With the exception of the bootcamped Mortys, who still had to finish their last training unit before going they were allowed to sleep. Storage Rick only bothered to watch TV in the small lounge in the meantime, have a smoke and—finally—have officially a drink: the small sips from his flasks in the backrooms didn't count, and the Mortys were wise enough to keep their traps shut about it. Sometimes some of the Mortys would join him and also watch TV, but other times—like today—they would thankfully leave him alone. It wasn't really that Rick minded their company much. As long as they didn't stop him from his drink, his smoke, or annoy him with stupid commentary, he could really care less. Eventually, he checked the clock and saw that it was already time for lights out, so he got up and made his last round. He only stepped into the hallway to which all of the bedrooms were connected. Thanks to a bunch of bunkbeds, several Mortys could be placed in one room, but the space grew sparse. The number of abandoned Mortys was rising steadily and the higher ups—whether it was Morty Inc., the company that employed him, or the Council of Ricks—hadn't made a decision as to what to do with them yet. If it would be up to Rick, he would release them into the wild or just hand them over for the Blips and Chitz Capsule Machines, like the generated Mortys, but he didn't had any say in the matter. Though he thought that he should have a say in this, since he was the one who had to take care of them and had to think where to put them when they didn't have any more space left. Just let them go or add more extensions to the Day Care—the options were simple enough. Rick could bet that if any decisions about that were ever made, it would probably be the latter again. The loud chatter that still penetrated the walls despite the late hour reminded Storage Rick again why he was standing here. "Okay, you little shits! It's bedtime now! I don't give a fuck if you actually sleep or not, but keep it down!" The noises immediately quieted down after he shouted through the hallway. Rick knew that the Mortys from the Bootcamp would be sleeping like stones—they always did—and the others would probably still quietly chat with each other or silently read comics or play video games on their Nintendo DS until they would finally fall asleep as well. Well, as Rick had said, he didn't really care about that as long as they didn't bother him and still do their jobs properly tomorrow. Feeling quite tired himself now, he decided to also go to bed. He went into the small room that he could call his very own bedroom and stripped out of his blue sleeveless button-up shirt, yellow t-shirt, gray-black sneakers, brown slacks, and pink socks. His spittle dampened and thoroughly gnawed toothpick was then flicked into a small wastebasket with such a practiced motion that Rick didn't even had to look where he threw it. Now, clad only in just his white wife beater and green checked boxer shorts, Rick lay down in his bed. Drowsily, he looked at the ceiling of the darkened room and thought about how drab everything was. Every day it was always the same boring routine with barely any change. There was no action he had done today that was any different from the things that he had done the day before. Sure, Ricks hated surprises, but they also hated routine and while they liked to plan their day out ahead, they also loved to have some excitement and adventures in their lives, and Storage Rick felt no different about that. Yet he was stuck with this lame job at this dull Morty Day Care on the fucking Citadel of Ricks, free of any life-threatening danger from the Galactic Federation or any intergalactic government, but also freed from mind-blowing discoveries and the thrill of adventures. He longed for change, he really did, but unfortunately, he was trapped. Trapped like every Rick that came to live on the Citadel, whether they came by choice or were brought here against their will. Just as Rick was about to doze off, the door to his room opened slowly. A small silhouette peeked inside his room and Rick immediately identified it as a Rabbit Morty. "Rick? Are you still awake?" the lop-eared furry asked in a hushed voice. "Yeah." Rick loudly whispered back. Even though it was dark, he could see how the Morty fidgeted. With a roll of his eyes—which Morty couldn't see—and a sigh, he asked, "What's wrong?" "W-well… I couldn't… sleep and I-I thought that—maybe…" the furry boy got quieter the more he spoke till the end of his sentence was nothing more than an indecipherable mumble. "What do you want, Morty?" the elder asked, getting tired of the mumbling fast. Rabbit Morty flinched a little since the tone came out a bit harsher than Rick had intended. "I-I just wanted to ask… if I could maybe… i-if you would let me sleep here?" he asked hopefully. Storage Rick groaned in annoyance. The Morty took it as a sign of rejection and was about to leave the room again when Rick suddenly lifted his blanket and patted the mattress invitingly. "C'mere." He added. The furry didn't hesitate and crawled quickly in Rick's bed. The man knew that Mortys were mentally frail little things that were prone to night terrors, whether they stemmed from the gruesome things that the boys encountered on their adventures with their Ricks, from the brutal battles where they were forced to fight against other Mortys, or just the abandonment issues that his charges suffered from. Therefore, he didn't mind the Morty snuggling against him as soon as he was safely settled beneath the covers. The boy's body felt warm—a bit warmer than that of human Mortys—and the fur was soft. Rick absentmindedly stroked Rabbit Morty's head as the furry boy drifted into a blissful sleep. One day, Rick told himself, one day he would try to make a change. For tonight, though, it would be fine to stick to the routine…

AN: There's a second part to this story where Storage Rick will finally break the habit, however, it's going to be Rick/Morty and smut, so proceed with caution to that next chapter.

Part 3 of Entricked Fates

Chapter 2

Part 1 of Entricked Fates: Gotta Catch Me Some Morty

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 2 of Entricked Fates: Mortyfied and Rickfused

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 4 of Entricked Fates: Ricks will always be Ricks

oneshot

Part 5 of Entricked Fates: The Morty-Lover

oneshot

Part 6 of Entricked Fates: Second Chances AKA The Rick One For Me

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Part 7 of Entricked Fates: Rickvestigating the Morty Disappearances

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Part 8 of Entricked Fates: When the Morty’s away, the Rick will play

oneshot

Part 9 of Entricked Fates: It’s Not His Ricking Fault!

oneshot

Part 10 of Entricked Fates: I Ricking Hate My Life!

oneshot

Part 11 of Entricked Fates: The Lines Between Ricks and Mortys

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 12 of Entricked Fates: The Mortys and their Stories

Chapter 1

[thehuggamugcafe]

Wammy’s ABCs: B

Aristotle once said: “All human actions have one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsions, habit, reason, passion, and desire.” All of us could relate to the most obvious of these selections: chance. It was chance that brought us to Wammy’s. Another of these apparent choices are compulsions, habit, and reason–for we all have habitual motions, and compulsions that drive us to act and react, positively and negatively. Reason became our second nature, bit by gradual bit. Logical reasoning, persuasive reasoning, argumentative reasoning, and other such ways to influence others.

I’m sure I needn’t tell you that this isn’t always the case for everyone. Whether they’re charismatic or outgoing, or if they prefer solitude and the quiet melody of their own thoughts, it’s not the same. Everyone is different. It’s just one of the few things that are known and rarely questioned amongst humans nowadays.

For B, his main causes were nature, habit, passion, and desire. His nature was that of... something that I am still uncertain of even to this day. He was very unnerving to new arrivals, but the disdain and distrust commonly stemmed from the teachers, staff members, and the other students. He would sit and stare at you for ten minutes straight, unblinking.

Just to see if you’d turn albino and run. Most of us did just that, especially the girls and younger orphans. This didn’t help matters, of course. Roger acted especially cold towards him from the very day he came to Wammy’s, probably due to B’s red eyes that stared at him with nothing more than callous amusement, a note of sneering contempt hanging onto his speech whenever he spoke to the old man.

Habit was also an obvious thing to notice around B. He saw no reason to get to know me, no desire to want to know me either, but he didn’t seem to mind if I sat near him. Not next to him; only R, M, and N were the ones who were granted his silent consent to be near him, speak to him. As I’ve already said: B didn’t mind my silent observations, the occasional  skritch of my pen as I took quick notes. 

The first of B’s habits that I took immediate notice of was his own quiet surveillance. He could sit and immerse himself, emotionally, into what others were saying, how they spoke to friends, how they carried themselves around rivals and acquaintances. Thirty minutes later he would recite everything, and I do mean everything, ten people said perfectly to himself as he trotted down the halls.

Another habit of B’s was how he always seemed to copy R to a certain degree. Nibbling on his thumb. Slipping his feet out of beaten sneakers, and rubbing the bare soles together in thought. Putting unhealthy amounts of sugar in his coffee or tea. Crouching in an awkward-looking sitting posture in class, outside, on furniture. I rarely saw him go an hour without eating candy or chocolate; I even caught him putting strawberry jam on his ice cream one warm August day.

Suffice it to say: B had many habits, as we all do. I don’t have the luxury of writing them all down, for I never witnessed all of them.

B’s final quirks were his passion and desire—about the three orphans he was on friendly terms with: M, N, and R. The desire to ensure that his friends were happy and safe. The affection that drove him to react negatively, violently, when their safety and well-being was threatened.

I always had the sneaking suspicion that he was passionate about love and perhaps something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Maybe he, like many males, was also driven to have children someday. His own flesh and blood that loved him as he would love them.

B stood for before. He came here a day before R did, and thus his alias stuck almost automatically; B was the one who suggested it to begin with, or so I’ve been told by rumourmongers. Roger didn’t bother arguing.

B stood for brilliance. He was brilliant often without trying. Other times he had to work hard, very hard, to achieve satisfactory results. Sometimes that alone wasn’t good enough.

Unlike R who was a natural genius. R, who could walk into an exam and score 100%. R, who only had to take in whatever information that lay before him once, and he’d know it by heart. B strove to remain behind R, always a rank below him. Always one or two marks shy of tying R with first rank, if not becoming the new number one.

It’s possible he held an unvoiced envy of his friend for that. What R achieved so flawlessly, B sometimes worked diligently to get. I think he disliked himself for that–for allowing R to snag first so easily, and that B handed R such an easy victory. This was easily accomplished by intentionally getting a question or two wrong on House Tests. That was another of B’s quirks: he lived for a good challenge.

Reiteration is a terrible habit, but here it is: B’s eyes, his dark red eyes that scorched whenever he dared to look your way, varying in degrees of cold and warmth depending on his mood, and whether or not he knew you. Toleration or intolerance was also a big factor for B. He would usually just stare for a long time—always with those red eyes that seemed to linger on some point above our heads, and he would neither smirk nor smile. Just take note of whatever it was that he could see, but we could not, and walk away.

I once cornered him alone, and dared to ask him what it was that he could see. He told me the name I didn’t remember having. He also mentioned that it wasn’t until his mother died that he knew something else, but what it was, he didn’t say. Not to me, but perhaps he confided in R or M.

He was number two out of everyone, destined for greatness long before he came to Wammy’s. He was not incapable of human emotions, but he possessed an abundant quality of basic ones long before his first birthday. Simple and regular qualifications for an extraordinarily gifted orphan.

B stood for the second-best, second-brightest, the back-up of a back-up plan. Something which I’m sure he absolutely detested. B had no intentions of going into law enforcement. He showed more interest in art-related subjects than complex Physics formulas.

As I mentioned before, there were those among us who felt we were entitled to the greatest mind, the most protected, of a world-renowned investigator. The one who taunted the criminals he hunted from the shadows. The one who we all strove to surpass, to step on, to step over.

Or so we believed.

B began to show acute signs of disinterest in the institution after he and R finished with their graduation ceremony, just a few months shy of turning eighteen; his unvoiced boredom only increased by tenfold after his other two friends graduated. Being number two, this wasn’t a grave concern; for someone who constantly craved a challenge, B became bored quickly and quite often. 

However, after three days passed, and he missed a grand total of eight days worth of college aptitude tests and entrance exams, the matter was brought to Mr. Wammy. The stupid, well-wishing adults never did much—if anything at all—before it was too late. Mr. Wammy meant well more than any of our mentors did.

His intervention came too late, however. B had already left the institution long before anyone had even thought to check up on him—and it wasn’t just him that had pulled a disappearing act worthy of Houdini himself; M, N, and R had also vanished. There was never a maximum age to leave Wammy’s House. You either left or you stayed behind. Those that remained at the orphanage became part of the staff, watching over and nurturing the young geniuses that walked or were carried through its doors.

Those who left generally became a part of the criminal system. The ones who commandeered over Wammy’s House kept tabs on all of its graduates and runaways, to see what they were up to, whether for reputable or deficient intentions. B, M, N, and R all left without informing anyone where they were going, and what they would be doing. A thorough search of their rooms yielded no clues, either.

I suppose that was enough to sound the alarm to whoever it was that needed to know, enough for Mr. Wammy to call an official global search for the missing orphans.

The B who snuck out of his room at night to visit his three friends. The B who lashed out violently when he deemed it necessary, especially when it concerned his three friends. The B who ate sweets on a constant basis. He was gone. Vanished without a trace.

I was told six years after he and the other three left that he took up residence somewhere in Canada, going to an esteemed art college and, eventually, he landed a largely successful career as an artist. He was married to N, and asked R to lodge with them in a fairly large house; M was situated in an equally-spacious condo somewhere not too far away from him. A regular orphan’s dream, but not a Wammy kid’s dream.

B was never your run-of-the-mill orphan, certainly not a normal Wammy orphan either. Sometimes visitors to his house say that they can see two little boys, one black-haired and one blond, playing in the yard. Occasionally they’ll rest on the grassy hill that makes up their backyard, staring up at the crisp blue sky. If they’re lucky they’ll see the black-haired clone of B take his little brother’s hand, and guide him into the art room, admiring their father’s work and him praising them on their own handiwork.

And maybe, just maybe, B’s guests will get to see the ghost of a smile crease his lips.

B once told his friends of the exact hour that he finally got the shade of his mother’s eyes right. It was all he could talk about for the entire day, too.

Of course none of us ever saw him when he disappeared, filtering like a forgotten mist through our minds. It was probably a lie, meant to be fabricated so we’d leave him alone. But if he wanted us to leave him be, why did he leave a portrait of him and his friends behind before leaving?

Some say that if you’ve looked into the eyes of the devil, it’s the last thing you see. Fire burning into your eyes like white-hot coal. Cold hatred. Apathy at its finest.

Me, I know better.

[cinnamon-sorceress]

Why does Leek love AMPL so much?

Word count: 2529; Reading: 5 minutes; Difficulty: 7; Charge: 0; Before I joined the Ampleforth official telegram group, I didn't understand that Leek was therefore passionate concerning this coin. I think about this coin from my own perspective. But after getting into the state telegram group, I was able to observe Leek's thoughts and behavior. Of course, I am very acquainted with leeks, and I am with them each day. The AMPL coin has several characteristics that are very appealing to leeks. The first is to "divide dividends" each day to stimulate the short-term excitement of leeks. Leek is an extremely short-sighted animal. If you go to the "square" of AICOIN, you can view probably the most leeks. Regarding expense, everyone will say that so long as you buy in the bear market and sell within a bull marketplace, you can make money. This is simply not a genuine flower, in fact it is generally correct. But what do you actually do? Leave the market in a bear market, plus come in to take a position in the bull market. Ethereum Some time ago, the stock market was on fire. When I was on the subway, I was shocked to see that the subway had been full of people watching the K collection. I submitted a sentence in the circle of close friends: "Let me inform a ghost story. Individuals on the subway are all viewing the K-line." Affirmed, the currency markets plummeted completely. Stocks tend to be more expensive in a bull market, and it is easier to lose cash when bought, rather than income, but leeks only enter the marketplace through the bull market, especially at the highest point of the bull marketplace. It is because only in a bull marketplace can you earn money "faster". It takes three, five, or a decade to buy shares in the bear marketplace to make cash. Can't wait. Leek does not have any patience. Once the currency market was on fire in 2018, I borrowed a lot of money to invest in projects. Since it will be borrowed money, it'll be repaid for a while. It is difficult for me to hold a currency for a long period, I can only invest in projects that can be "quickly" listed. Most of the leeks in stocks are borrowed cash, which must be repaid for a while. It is impossible to hold the purchased stocks for a long period. Also if it is not borrowed money, even if it is indeed own money, Leek hopes to make money "quickly" rather than waiting 3, five yrs and ten years to create money. If you tell Leek, it will take ten years because of this investment to return. Leek will be scared to passing away. A decade later, I don't know easily am nevertheless there, I can't wait. From the psychological perspective, anyone who has no patience to hold back for a return on investment, his native family lacks comfort and security. He has no basic feeling of protection and rely upon the world. Just how he interacts with the world is like the employees who shift bricks on the design site. They must be paid day-to-day. I shifted the bricks nowadays, and you need to pay me today. Hand, I can't wait around for the finish of the 30 days. I ran away afraid of you at the end of the 30 days. These people live in a bad family, and their parents cannot give him a feeling of security, especially his mother. Because of this, these children are very impatient with function and lifetime. You must get the return instantly, and you also can't wait. They are generally impatient and effortlessly get frustrated. In the small information on life, if you go to a eating place and await one minute to end up being served, you will be really anxious, you'll yell and eliminate your respect. In the event that you chase a woman, please eat a meal, and you can't "enter bed", you will experience a delay in your efforts and you will immediately modification your goal. Their impatience is manifested in all respects of life. In college, many classmates cheated on exams. They prefer to say that provided that they know this question, select C. You don't need to find out why this reply is. I love to figure out precisely why C is chosen for these subjects and how it really is calculated. When I was in college, I was extremely playful, studied badly, and cheated in exams. However in my coronary heart, I really hope to clarify the calculation procedure for each problem. I quite definitely disagree with the practice of basically remembering the answers to get ready for the exam. AMPL's daily fixed-point "dividends" (leeks state dividends are in fact systemic inflation, that is neither bullish nor bearish, and neutral), that may quickly stimulate the enjoyment of leeks. I really believe that if we make an hourly "dividend" coin, Leek could be even more excited. They can stay up all night and stare at their wallets. You can find two hottest gambling games in Macau casinos, one is bet size and another is baccarat. Both these games are very easy, and both possess the comfort and velocity of opening two eyes. Each game only takes 1 minute. It was too easy, as well fast to provide suggestions to gamblers. A game like TEXAS HOLD EM contains a complicated sport process. Many gamblers aren't fascinated. Gamblers who like TEXAS HOLD EM are mostly brain-like people who like the considering process. You will see the TEXAS HOLD EM area, and you can find fewer vulgar individuals. There is also a kind of person who doesn't like to use his brain and only loves to try his fortune. He breaks in to the sport of Texas Hold'em. He likes to near his eye and ALL IN prior to the flop and doesn't like complicated reasoning procedure. Through this simplified processing method, a complicated intellectual game is compressed right into a simple luck game. Of course, from the rational perspective, he was to do so. Because I've no benefit in cleverness or proficiency, therefore i changed to play a casino game of luck with you, and neither folks comes with an advantage. It's like, easily go to college, I cannot pass you, but if you come to buy lottery tickets, you and me will tie. Children who lack patience, the household that was raised in the catastrophic change, mom and dad are usually emotionally unstable, usually create conflict, tension, and destruction inside the family, causing the child to develop a fear, stress, and impatient character. The science fiction novel "Three-body" describes a terrible three-body civilization. As the three suns shift irregularly in the sky, the three-body civilization often enters the "chaotic era". Civilization didn't create for a few years, and it had been destroyed by natural disasters the moment it entered the farming culture. I believe that people surviving in this environment are afraid to build long-term worth, because your design will be ruined by the "heaven" anytime. It is better to think brief and shallow, long-term considerations often fail. I once spent a lot of time studying spiritual exercise. It could be said responsibly that most of the spiritual exercise is deceptive. But various spiritual schools help people set up a long-term value rather than short-sighted. For instance, Brahman (commonly misunderstood as Buddhism) advocates that people are reincarnated and multi-generational. There are various such thoughts in Chinese Ming Dynasty novels. Therefore the good and bad factors you do in this life will have consequences within the next life. Simply put, you don't only live an eternity, you have to live life many, many lifetimes, which means you have to construct long-term worth. The task that can't be completed in this living could be completed within the next life. In ancient periods, it had been called "cultivation for most generations." What I just talked about is the first feature of AMPL. It could provide immediate opinions and return rapidly. This is appetizing for leeks.

AMPL's second "advantage", Leek loves. Its theory is very simple. If I speak to Leek about how exactly MakerDAO works, most Leeks are scared away. EASILY talk about Uniswap's constant item formula, provided that I dare to create the method below, the reading level of this post will undoubtedly be reduced by 50%. Not forgetting discussing Balancer's power constant product method, leeks are usually scared to perform quicker than rabbits. Leek is most afraid of mathematics. There are a great number of formulas and charts in the AMPL white paper, but this is only a matter of light source. non-e of the mathematics in the white paper exceeds elementary school level. I am aware why the group has to create such a simple thing so challenging, because they're afraid that others will look down on the design, and they are afraid that everyone will state "that is it?" The person who writes the book either lifts the weight lightly or lifts light weight. As long as you cook leeks two times, it is possible to understand the theory of AMPL. If the price is higher than 1.06, the coin will be expanded, and if the cost is lower than 0.94, the coin will undoubtedly be reduced. Understand in one minute. (Despite having such a very simple principle, you may still find lots of leeks mistakenly thinking that this coin is a permanent "dividend") The third benefit of AMPL, it could be bought on the exchange, Kucoin and Bitfinex can be purchased. This kind of "internal disk" of NXM is very tough, and leek can't be bought. There are some coins, only Uniswap offers it, and Leek can't learn it. I often meet some close friends asking how to buy Hong Kong shares and how exactly to buy US stocks. We told them to download the Futu APP. However they all found it as well difficult. It really is too tough to open a bank-account in Hong Kong. Anyone who has used it once will find it easy. Nevertheless, you see many people are speculating in A shares, no one is speculating in Hong Kong stocks and shares and US shares. People who can purchase Tencent and Pinduoduo are rare, plus they are already high-end players in stocks. Any sport has fewer high-end players and several low-end players. Every time you increase a level, you drop 90% of the populace. Promotion: Becoming a member of the "Old Han and His Friends" Knowledge Earth, you can view Han Jiangxue's daily push for the next time. The very first thing you see will be Han Jiangxue's personal group, however the private group has been closed. Knowledge Planet ID: 14842945. 288 goals are billed. The planet includes a restricted lifespan. It expires on February 10, 2021, with 6 months staying. Choose whether to become listed on regarding to your personal situation.

[erictmason]

Top 10 Disney Cartoon Shows

Turns out that last list didn't quite get all the Disney out of my system, so I'm at it again.  Only this time, it's about Disney's efforts on the small screen. It's actually kind of hard to overstate the significance of Disney's choice to get into the television animation game back in the 80's.  Before then, whatever else one could say about its merits, animation on TV meant one thing: cheap (well, OK, that and "short films imported from a radically different era", but let's not split hairs here).  That isn't to say quality animation could not be found on television pre-Disney, but rather that said quality (both in the visual and writing departments) was rarely if ever the priority.  But when Disney came along, with a mission statement of bringing with it the level of craft that had defined their theatrical films (though naturally they were never really aiming that high), that changed, and animation studios of all stripes suddenly had a reason to pour a lot more effort into their animated TV shows.  I don't think it's unfair to say we're still living in the world Disney helped create, in fact, whether it's the overt influence many of Disney's shows have had on the newest generation of animators or else by virtue of the space they helped to make where such shows can exist and thrive.  So, with the reboot of "Ducktales", the Disney TV animation studio's first breakout success, having recently launched, I thought it would be an appropriate time to look back at that vast, storied history of Disney TV cartoons and pick out my personal picks for the best of the bunch. As usual, there are a few provisos, a couple of quid pro quos if you will.   1.) It has to be a show made by a division of Disney Television Animation, not just airing on a Disney-owned channel.  That means no Lucasfilms, no Marvel, and no imports from, say, Canada or Japan. 2.) TV shows only, no shorts or compilation shows.  So much as I adore them, the current run of "Mickey Mouse" shorts will not be on here, sorry. 3.) It has to have aired in its entirety.  I feel like it's unfair to judge a TV show on a list like this without being able to see it as a whole, so as intriguing as, say, "Star VS. The Forces of Evil" is, it isn't eligible since it's still producing new episodes. With the rules established?  Let's make some magic!

10.) Aladdin: The Series (1994-1995): Here's a bit of irony for you: half the reason Disney ventured into television animation in the first place is that, at the time, the future of their theatrical animation division seemed in doubt.  Not long after, however, along came "The Little Mermaid" and the Disney Renaissance, and suddenly it was the television side looking to the theatrical side for source material.  Quite a few Renaissance pics got the TV show treatment as a result, but for my money the best of the bunch remains "Aladdin: The Series", mainly because it's the one that feels most of a piece with the original movie.  Part of that, of course, is that "Aladdin" was already a bit more suited to the adventure-a-week formula, since that's kind of where the roots of the original story already run.  But part of it is also that the ways in which the show expanded on the original's world were genuinely clever.  Pulling not only from Arabian mythology, but Greco-Roman, Aztec, Egyptian, and beyond, the show managed to deliver remarkably-solid adventure stories, few of which ever continued from the other but all of which worked surprisingly well together to create a world that felt remarkably alive and vibrant.  Sure, Aladdin himself remains a fairly uninteresting protagonist, Dan Castellanata can't hope to replace Robin Williams as The Genie, and Iago is a lot less fun when he's asked to be a constant lead presence rather than a humorous diversion.  But even so, "Aladdin: The Series" succeeded at taking the original's lead, running with it, and in the process delivering a show that felt exciting and interesting to watch week from week just to see what new corner of its world it would uncover.

9.) Phineas and Ferb (2007-2015): OK, confession time?  I actually don't like this show very much.  I hardly dislike it or anything, but I was never able to really get into it the same way I could other entries in the remarkably-specific sub-genre of "TV Cartoons Aimed At Kids Which Manage To Also Garner A Sizable Teen/Adult Audience" like, say, "Steven Universe" or another show that's probably on this list.  Nonetheless, I can't deny this thing is maybe the success story of modern-day Disney television animation, lasting longer by far than any other show on the list.  Nor am I unaware of what made it so popular: the strong, heavily-geometric character designs, the charming musical numbers, and the mad-cap, self-aware comedy.  It's that last piece I find most interesting, because I think it speaks most strongly to what helped "Phineas and Ferb" stand out from the pack: it's kind of like the kid-friendly version of "Family Guy", at least in the sense that it derives its humor less from the story or characters, who are deliberately archetypal, and more from its ability to use those archetypal characters as delivery machines for rapid-fire punchlines predicated on equal parts dry wit and pop-cultural reference.  In other words, it never becomes itself an "adult" series, indeed its whole perspective is an exaggerated version of childhood, but it does use an "adult"-oriented style of comedy most other kid's shows didn't really utilize back when it started.  That kind of unique creative choice can often do a lot of help a show stand out from the crowd, and, with four seasons, seven years, and over 200 episodes (to say nothing of TV specials and movies), I think it's safe to say that's exactly what this show did.

8.) Fillmore! (2002-2004): Man, why don't more people remember this show?  Following up on the renewed popularity of crime procedurals thanks to both the "Law and Order" and "CSI" franchises being at their peak, it takes the structure and tone of a 70's/80's-style crime drama and refits it into the world of Middle School.  Cops become Hallway Monitors, overzealous politicians become overbearing teachers, and Grand Theft Auto becomes bicycle theft.  It's that last part that proves the most amusing; since murder is pretty obviously not going to fly on a kid's show, the crimes they do come up with display a remarkable breadth of creativity.  Trying to chase down a graffiti vandal turns into a "Silence of the Lambs"-style criminal vs. criminal scenario, fandom obsession leads to dangerous sabotage, smuggling food into school is treated like something akin to drug-running, that sort of thing.  And best of all, while the show is entirely aware of its own absurdity, its sense of humor is 100% deadpan, and the result is that it really does play like a "straight" Cop Drama despite its setting.  It's a unique tone that is equal parts engaging and funny, and it creates this really interesting one-of-a-kind style that no other show has ever really tapped into, either before or since. Top it off with a great pair of lead characters-the titular Fillmore himself, a Good Guy With A Past played with a crisp cool to match the show's tone by Orlando Brown, and his reformed-ex-con partner Ingrid Third, another notch in veteran VA Tara Strong's belt, and you've got a great kid's show that's every bit as gripping as the shows it parodies, even as it also gets some solid laughs along the way too.

7.) TaleSpin (1990-1991): For the most part, it's easy to draw the lines that connect the Disney Afternoon's initial shows to the pre-existing Disney properties they're based on.  "Goof Troop" is really just those old-school Goofy shorts about domestic life updated to match with 90's-style family sitcoms, "Chip 'n' Dale: Rescue Rangers" plugs the titular duo into kid-friendly adventure romps, and so on and so forth.  But "TaleSpin" is just so weird in that respect: it may borrow three of its key characters from there, but it can't really be said to be based on Disney's 1967 version of "The Jungle Book".  Instead, those characters-or rather heavily modified versions of those characters re-conceived to fit in to the show's new setting-are placed into an entirely new world, which itself is something like a steampunk fantasy version of 1920's America, guided by the spirit of old-school Adventure Serials.  But the very oddity of its construction allows "TaleSpin" to feel at once familiar and new, able to ground itself by way of those "Jungle Book" characters you know and love (with the twists it puts on them being endearingly clever, like making Shere Khan a Lex Luthor-style corporate mogul) while also spring-boarding out into a wide variety of classic adventure stories.  Daring duels with pirates, high-stakes air races, and even the occasional flight of overtly-magical fancy...there's a lot of Tales to Spin here, and the show consistently does so with an admirably clear-eyed sense of its own genre and how to best play with it.  And again, it's all connected to a charming cast of characters.  "TaleSpin" is a tricky little thing to pin down, then, but for that very reason it's way too memorable to overlook or ever forget.

6.) The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1988-1991): "Winnie the Pooh" stories are a tricky thing to do right.  They'd been around for close to half-a-century even back when Disney first adapted the property into a trilogy of animated short films during the mid-to-late 60's, and that history, combined with the stories' enduring popularity, means we all have a fairly solid idea of what they "feel" like.  Moreover, by their very nature, the best "Pooh" stories are short, simple things with only the barest hint of narrative intent or moral center.  Which means trying to expand on them in any significant way runs the risk of stuffing them with more familiar story-telling tropes and styles that simply do not belong there.  So "The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh" deserves a lot of credit, if not for dodging that fact entirely (as was increasingly common in kid's TV shows of the time, it made sure to center a lot of its stories around "lessons" in a fashion much louder and more overt than the source material), then at least for managing to make a show that consistently felt like it captured and exemplified the right spirit even so.  A lot of that, it should be said, comes down to the voice actors; not only did Paul Winchell (Tigger) and John Fiedler (Piglet) return to reprise their iconic roles after having sat out the previous "Pooh" TV show, "Welcome to Pooh Corner", but this also marks the first "Pooh" project where the title character is voiced by Jim Cummings, who has played the role in every other "Pooh" production to come out of Disney in the nearly-three decades since.  Their performances aren't just consistently entertaining, they also lend a sense of spiritual continuity that benefits the show greatly.  More to the point, though, the animation has an intriguing physicality to it that recognizes the stuffed-animal nature of its core cast, as well as a delightfully-poppy color scheme.  The writing, meanwhile, uses a particular blend of sweetness and humor that feels at once akin to the original Disney short films, but also distinct and enjoyable unto itself.  Wordplay, slapstick, and gentle philosophizing, hallmarks of a good "Pooh" story since the very beginning, all show up in "The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh", but the show always puts a just-so slightly-modern touch on each one.  To be sure, "New Adventures" plays in the same ballpark as more typical Saturday Morning cartoon fare, but it does so with the invaluable lessons of Pooh himself pretty clearly having been taken to heart in the process, and the resulting show is simply delightful.

5.) Adventures of the Gummi Bears (1985-1991): Technically speaking, the first Disney Television series is the short-lived plush-toy spin-off "The Wuzzles".  Meanwhile, the first real breakout hit for the studio was unquestionably 1987's "Ducktales".  But the one that first really established the studio, granting it the foothold from which it would build its future successes, is "The Adventures of the Gummi Bears".  On paper, it sounds very much like a "Smurfs" wanna-be, centered as it is on a tribe of small, magically-inclined creatures with matching names set in a vaguely-Medieval England fantasy world.  But in execution, it winds up weaving a remarkably-compelling tale with a surprisingly-dense internal mythology which it treats with an impressive degree of respect and earnestness.  That isn't to say it's some Super Serious Epic (we'll need to go a bit up the list for that show), but even as it keeps things primarily centered on kid-friendly slapstick and gentle goofing off (and does a fine version of it in both cases too), there is nonetheless an underlying spine of genuinely weighty world-building to it that adds just the right amount of extra heft to even the lighter aspects of the series.  The way our main characters, the Gummi Bears of the title, slowly but surely discover more and more aspects of their history and culture (much of it tangled up in an ugly war stemming from prejudice and distrust), all the while hoping for the day they'll be able to reunite with their own people, underlines almost every episode, pulling you in and often taking you by surprise.  As well, while all clearly archetypal (in the old Seven Dwarves tradition of being named for their defining traits, even), those characters are all delightful to spend time with, again thanks to a strong cast of voice-acting veterans like Paul Winchell, June Foray, and Bill Scott, and a dynamic that feels warm and lived-in.  Moreover, this is the show that Disney's TV animation really used to show off its skills, with some of the most fluid, engaging use of motion in any cartoon of the era; some episode are naturally stronger than others, but the best of them are genuinely gorgeous stuff.  It is, in other words, a show with an intriguing story that feels very much like the best sort of Bed-Time Story, inviting and friendly on one level but with a deeper center just beneath the surface to pull you in and keep you coming back, and realized with a strong, compelling craft.  So it's really no wonder that these "Gummi Bears" were, in their way, the ones to start the long-lived legacy of Disney's TV cartoons.

4.) Recess (1997-2003): There came an interesting point of transition for Disney's TV animation studios toward the end of the 90's.  The Disney Afternoon block, long the most visible home for their shows, was finally shutting down after a solid seven-year run, and a new once-a-week block, fittingly named "1 Saturday Morning", was rising up to take its place.  The block managed to last a decent five years, but very few of its shows managed to make much of an impact.  But among the ones that did, the clear front-runner, to my mind at least, is "Recess", a love letter aimed not only at the nostalgia of the playground but also to the iconic TV comedy "Hogan's Heroes" (compare the theme songs to both shows, and then look at the mix of archetypes that comprises the core cast for each one).  That mixture allows the show to present a vision of childhood that is simultaneously deliberately hyperbolic-the age-old notion of schoolyard hierarchies is here portrayed as a rich, thriving society unto itself, complete with its own king and economy-while still grounded in relatable ideas and characters, especially as regards the oftentimes contentious relationship between the students and teachers.  That latter aspect especially speaks to why "Recess" is probably my pick for the best overall show of the "1 Saturday Morning" era, too; yes, as is typical of a show aimed at kids, it plays to their own feelings by painting the teachers as alternatively cruel and inept for the most part (while quite a few episodes focus on the difficulties the kids have with their parents, too), but it never forgets their own humanity in the process, and some of the show's best moments stem from that fact.  Still, at the end of the day, it does really come down to that "Hogan's Heroes" influence I mentioned.  No real kid has ever assembled the complex schemes and adventures that are "Recess"' primary source of stories, but I promise you every last kid has dreamed of it, and by placing those scenarios in the world it does, where the audience can at once recognize how much this is an exaggeration but still grasp what reality it draws from, it makes this really intriguing atmosphere that sparkles at once with a kid's sense of wonder and an adult's sense of humor (a lot of the best jokes stem from sharp wit that connects a young adult's perspective to adult concepts like a full-time job or balancing responsibilities).  It's a style quite a few shows, cartoon or otherwise, have tried out over the years, but "Recess" is one of the very best examples of the form.

3a.) Gravity Falls (2012-2016): If you were paying close enough attention, you may have noticed something about the opening credits of animated television shows around the beginning of the '00's: series creators were being prominently credited.  It was indicative of a larger amount of trust and control being placed in distinct creative voices as the industry slowly eased out (or tried to, anyway) of the merchandise-driven business model that had defined it for most of the 80's and 90's, and across the board it led to some very distinct visions making their way onto screens.  For Disney, the example du jour is Alex Hirsch's "Gravity Falls", a show whose existence is all the more surprising when you consider just how very Not Disney its premise-kid-oriented "Twin Peaks" riff by way of "The X-Files"-really sounds.  And yet here we are, with a show that is at once a razor-sharp comedy, a poignant examination of what it means to grow up and what we do and do not have to leave behind in the process, and a veritable parade of some of the most off-the-wall horror-sci-if-fantasy mash-ups of all time.  And the thing of it is, the glue holding all of that together and keeping it coherent, allowing the show to build effortlessly both towards fantastic punchlines and deeply emotional culminations, stems from Hirsch: in interviews, he talked about how much of the show's premise stemmed from reflecting on the tourist-trap vacations he himself took as a child, and indeed, a lot of the series' best moments (an early episode centered on a haunted convenience store springs to mind in particular for me) succeed by tapping into that particular vein of childhood, where the simple change in environment that comes with vacation lends even the most mundane things an air of mystery.  By the same token, so too do the characters feel keenly drawn from reality (even as they do still possess a cartoon's foibles and exaggerations); Dipper and Mabel are two of the most believable pre-teens I've ever seen on TV, both in their own way smart enough to no longer be children but struggling with the greater maturity necessary to really become grown-up, Grunkle Stan feels like every huckster you've ever seen on TV right down to the niggling sense that there is a tremendous amount more to him than what we see, and the change in perspective the show gives us on Wendy, initially kept at arm's length because of Dipper's crush on her only to emerge more fully as a person once he recognizes her own feelings on the matter.  And then on top of all that, it's connected to a genuinely-compelling mystery that the show gradually teases out more and more, and those who are paying attention really do have an honest shot of piecing the puzzle together before the characters do, adding a new layer of visceral excitement to the experience.  But the real strength of the show is that those twists and turns, as much as they might pull us deeper into the puzzle box, are really more about exploring and growing the characters first and foremost.  That's the key to "Gravity Falls" above all, to my mind: yes, its internal mythology is uniquely well built, and yes, pushing the envelope on how genuinely scary/dangerous it's allowed to get is fascinating, but it never loses sight of how much its characters are the real heart of the story, and how much that fact helps this weird, wild mixture really come together.  

3b.) Darkwing Duck (1991-1992): Yes, the #3 slot is a draw, because when it came right down to it I simply could not pick between the two shows I was considering for it.  Leaving "Gravity Falls" off felt simply unacceptable to be, but neither could I find it in my heart to axe this, maybe my personal favorite of the entire Disney Afternoon era, from the list.  Because the thing of it is, when you really think about it, "Darkwing Duck" shouldn't work at all.  Superhero parodies were old hat even by the early 90's (indeed, at that point they probably outnumbered actual superhero shows), while spin-offs had long ago developed a reputation for being cheap-and-easy cash-ins (though the extent to which "Darkwing Duck" is, in fact, a spin-off of "Ducktales" is a touch debatable, I suppose, even as they share a handful of characters).  But despite the odds against it, "Darkwing Duck" does indeed prove to be a consistently entertaining piece of work, and a lot of why boils down to the remarkably-multilayered construction of its title character.  That isn't to say Darkwing is the only good thing about his own show; his rogue's gallery is an amusing assortment of pastiches of classic Villain archetypes-the plant-master, the crazy clown, the evil double, and so on-while the supporting cast, including "Ducktales" veteran Launchpad McQuack and excitable youngster Gosalyn Mallard (a character who, by rights, should be insufferable, but is instead genuinely endearing thanks in no small part to her voice actor, the late, great Christine Cavanaugh), is equally enjoyable.  As well, the show's sense of humor has an ahead-of-its-time sardonic edge to it that was nowhere near as commonplace in kid's cartoons by that point, but which here provides just the right level of sharpness to the comedy.  And the animation is fascinating, too, with a far more "Looney Tunes"-style sensibility to a lot of its best moments (which in turn informs the characters a lot; there's more than a touch of Daffy to Darkwing, but we'll get to that in a minute), while also showing just how far the iconic Disney "duck" design could be stretched while still being recognizable.  But it really is Darkwing himself who makes the show, because despite the core conceit being fairly simple-poking fun at the inherent egomania of the superhero by portraying one as a glory hound interested more in publicity than actual heroism-there actually prove to be quite a few layers to him when you really get into it.  For one thing, he's actually quite good at his job; for as many times as his inadequacy is the butt of the joke, "let's get dangerous" is more than just a catchphrase; it's a sign he's about to show you what he's really capable of.  For another, his sincere affection for and protectiveness of Gosalyn shows there really is a heart underneath all that bluster, and that if he could just get out of his own way, Darkwing might well be capable of true greatness.  But all too often he is, in fact, his own worst enemy (there's that Daffy Duck influence again).  It's all played mostly for laughs, sure, but, especially thanks to Darkwing's VA Jim Cummings, who navigates each of those layers coherently and effectively, it comes through clearly even so.  And it elevates the entire show to this unique, interesting place that has helped it stand the test of time. 

2.) Gargoyles (1994-1997): As established during our introduction, the entry of Disney into the world of television animation in the mid-80's was a real paradigm shift in the industry.  But a few years later, in 1992, came another, arguably even more profound game-changer: "Batman: The Animated Series".  Every last element of that show-its writing, its visual style, and especially its revolutionary craft-proved profoundly popular, not only with viewers but people inside the industry.  Soon enough, almost every TV animation studio around mounted a response: for Marvel Television, it was the "X-Men" cartoon, for Hanna Barbera it was "SWAT Kats".  But far and away the best answer came from Disney, in the form of Greg Weisman's fantasy epic, "Gargoyles".  From stem to stern, this is maybe one of the richest, most satisfying stories Disney TV ever crafted, and in stark contrast to just about every other show on this list, that doesn't come with a "but it's not as serious as all that" caveat.  There's comic relief, to be sure, but still, this is nonetheless an entirely-earnest Modern Fantasy Epic, comprised of equal parts deep-cut cultural/mythological references-everything from Shakespeare to Arthurian Lore to the tales of Anansi the Spider, all realized with a remarkable degree of understanding and specificity-and exceptionally well-structured characters.  Stoic Goliath, striving at once to protect what little remains of his kind while also seeking to do good in a world he struggles to understand; Elisa Maza, a sharp-minded detective who is always determined to stay on top of the situation no matter how crazy it becomes; Demona, a tragic figure consumed with anger and grief who seeks greater and greater means of destruction; Xanatos, one of the greatest masterminds of all time, always one step ahead, always a new scheme at the ready.  "Gargoyles", in other words, weaves an impressively intricate tale that inhabits a sprawling, detailed world with rich, compelling players, by way of some of the most impressively-intricate long-term story arcs I've ever seen in a cartoon show.  Whether it's the gradual transformation of Xanatos from inscrutable antagonist to complex Family Man (even as the extent to which he can ever really be trusted remains in question) or the slow-burn, exceptionally rewarding progression of Goliath and Elisa's relationship, or even things like the young, impetuous Brooklyn slowly growing up into a possible leader, "Gargoyles" hones in with perfect precision on how best to expand these characters over time.  Likewise, watching as the scope of the world, and our own understanding of it, expands to include concepts like aliens and mutants amongst its gods and monsters is impressive and fascinating.  And the series paces itself equally perfectly.  There is a genuinely organic quality to "Gargoyles"' arcs, both character and plot; it never feels static or overly obsessed with the Status Quo, but it also does not rush through anything.  Each plot twist, each character epiphany, feels earned, and all the more powerful as a result.  And, cherry on top, the animation is top-tier stuff; it is perhaps not as overtly stylized as "Batman: The Animated Series" (though its focus on night-time settings and a darker color palette feels evocative of that show), but the combination of a Disney-esque sense of character design with the show's strong narrative backbone leads to exceptional results even so.  "Gargoyles" may have been made in "Batman"'s image, but it wound up being a one-of-a-kind classic in its own right. 

1.) Ducktales (1987-1990): There are a number of reasons "Ducktales" more or less has to top this list.  Its pedigree, for one thing; drawing a lot of its premise (and directly adapting several of its best episodes and story lines) from the famed Carl Barks "Uncle Scrooge" comics (though notoriously, Barks' most famous successor, Don Rosa, has a less-than-sunny attitude toward the show) provides the show an exceptionally well-built and endearing structure.  Whether it's outer-space epics or intercontinental treasure hunts, espionage action or magical mayhem, there's no breed of adventure "Ducktales" cannot comfortably tap into.  Another thing to consider is its place in history; almost every other show on this list owes its existence to one degree or another to this show, which proved to be exactly the sort of powerhouse success story the Disney TV studio needed in order to prove its chops, and that means "Ducktales" holds a special place in animation history too, given how much Disney TV has played a part in it as a whole.  And naturally, there's the animation to consider too; it may seem a touch standard-issue today, but compare "Ducktales" to just about any other contemporary cartoon of its era, and you'll realize just how much care goes into keeping characters on model and letting them movie not just fluidly, but also in a way that's enjoyable to watch.  And last but hardly least, there's the stellar cast of characters (and voice actors); Huey, Dewey, and Louie may all be interchangeable, but their dynamic is lively and enjoyable anyway.  Webby, meanwhile, is a fantastic foil, not only for them, but for Uncle Scrooge.  And naturally, Scrooge himself (given an iconic performance by the late, great Alan Young) is just fantastic, a multi-layered, larger-than-life character who is nonetheless so much fun to simply spend time with you never want to stop.  But the thing of it is, "Ducktales"' real claim to #1 is a bit harder to quantify than all that, because even as it excels on just about every level, it doesn't have, say, the same depth of theme and character as "Gravity Falls", or "Gargoyles"' tapestry of plot lines and character arcs.  Its animation is certainly high quality, especially for the time, but it's not that much better than "Adventures of the Gummi Bears".  And yet, even so, "Ducktales" is the one everyone remembers, and I feel like that comes down to it adding up to something more than just the sum of its parts.  There really is this unique, ineffable energy to "Ducktales" that is equal parts charming, endearing, exciting, and thrilling, and it enhances each and every one of the things the show already does so well to a special level all its own.  Some of that can be chalked up to nostalgia, sure, but a lot of it, I think, can also be ascribed to the sheer sense of discovery innate to the show.  Not simply in the various people and places our heroes encounter (though there's that too, naturally), but in the fact that this new effort on Disney's part was hitting its stride, and in so doing opening up a whole new world of possibilities, for the show itself and for the future.  Which is maybe being a touch too grandiose about it, but even so, "Ducktales" has endured enough to make me think there may be something to it.  And hey, if literally nothing else, it really does have one humdinger of a theme song.  

[shawnjacksonsbs]

The "not-so" secret formula to my contentment.    9-8-19

"Nobody else can live the life you live. And even though no human being is perfect, we always have the chance to bring what's unique about us to live in a redeeming way." - Mr. Fred Rogers And that's all I am trying to do with my writings, my shares, my whole life really. My story may not be some great made for t.v. triumph, but in its uniqueness, it's important (and not just to me) that I share it, as I live it and grow in it. I look at as much of the negatives as I can, like more of an opportunity. Not always in the immediate heat of the moment sometimes, but I try. That's one of my life lessons I imagine will stay current with me each day as we move into our respective futures. Living resentlessly is pretty big. They say that resentments are the number one cause of relapse for people like me, as in, those recovered from or recovering from some type of addiction. I'm pretty sure I've dealt with most of all those toxicities that kept me so sick, albeit some not the way I wanted (whole other story lol). I try to live in such a way these days that I don't harbor any new resentments. Should something arise I can usually handle it pretty quickly. Because. . .as it. . . "TURNS OUT, RESENTMENT IS CORROSIVE AND I HATE IT." - Tony Stark Living in gratitude, being loving and as kind as humanly possible are pretty far up there in that formula as well. I'm secure in the fact that living with as much gratitude as I can works hand in hand with not keeping with the resentments on that end too. Trying to make good, right, and sound decisions doesn't hurt either. Nor does the whole truth-telling bit I have added to my life. Having to remember stupid ass lies all the time used to be exhausting, to say the least. Lol I sleep well every night knowing I am living the best way I know how, for me, and for those in my life, here, or at a distance. I ask myself "Did you do the best you could today?" If I answer yes, then I sleep good, and tomorrow is a new day. If I answer no, then I tell myself that I'll do better tomorrow. Apologize where I need to, then sleep good and tomorrow is a new day. Love me or hate me, that's on you. At least I know I keep it real and I'm sincere. We may not see eye to eye, but I always tell the truth as I see it, how it comes at me, and how it feels to my heart. A lot of people relate to me and plenty of them support me and my life decisions. My life is just that, my life. Your options are either take it or leave it. I'm not above reproach or even above criticism, but that's mainly for differences of opinions. Feel free to speak your mind at me and change my heart if you can. Moral issues and matters of the heart, I'm probably less likely to swerve on those, because they are personal to who I am, and who I've become. A very long hard road has brought me here and your approval, on those things are not needed. I no longer need acceptance from others to dictate who I am, at all, ever. I've never felt so sure about who I am, where I'm going or why, in all my life. A good, just, and positive life is for me. I can't imagine ever going back, or living as less, or even changing my perspectives, on much really, but I will always try to listen, or try if I can, to hear someone out, albeit it may be hard as I try to live as right as I can most of the time. Love and kindness always being on the forefront doesn't leave much room for anything you might say that might take away from that love and kindness, at least in that regard. The only other thing might be how I call people out on what I feel isn't right. If that's the case, you may be right, but I'm probably never not going to stand up to people who treat others in a bad way, and I will never stop standing up for what I believe is right, especially when it involves others being mistreated, whether grouped or individual. Granted I'm working on me, and better, more delicate ways to try and approach some of those issues because I am far, far from perfect. But I also feel a moral imperative responsibility to try something, because of how far I've come. Look it's real easy, if you want to be a part of my life then be prepared to be called out on shit like that. If you care about me we can talk about it. If there is no love from your side or mine, then the door swings out too. Peace out. The things in my heart, are much more important to me, and for the little people in my life to see from me, than what you may or may not not be agreeing with. I'm not saying that your way or ways are necessarily wrong, but if they aren't what I'm trying to live by and be an example of, then I'm probably not having it in my life. Especially if I deem them to be negative, in any way. You can do what you want, as can I and I will continue to live the absolute best way I know how. I finally got my moral compass to point true north. You may feel yours does too, but if I see yours slightly askew then all that means is, you and me, we ain't the same. That doesn't mean we can't have love for one another unless you see it differently. To me, it just means maybe we have some talks in our future and that sometimes it takes more than just blood to relate to someone. I'm super blessed to have so many who do see and feel things like I do, both blood relation and those who are not. I suppose most of this would be nil, if not so many people did relate and support me. If it was just love and/or respect, but it's not. I know in my heart where I stand. I mean keeping my moral compass pointing in this direction has served me pretty well the last several years. It attracts the right people into my life as I slowly eliminate any toxic people not ok with how I live my life, or how I see life. I'm pretty sure, people who know me, know I that don't want bad shit for anyone, but if negative people fall off my ship instead of learning the life lessons that exhume gratitude for everything, even the most difficult, then that not my fault. Finding the silver in everything now is never ever going to be something I feel shame over. I'm sorry if you feel attacked. I assure you that's not my intent. Sharing my story, which constantly is changing, isn't meant to be preachy or soap boxy. It's meant to be relatable or at least understandable. 'Nough said I think. I didn't mean to hijack the entry in this direction, but it is a blog about how I feel about things so. . .lol . . . So there's that. Saw this post the other day; ~{I was asked, "You're willing to lose friends over politics?!!" I said, "No. I'm willing to lose friends over morals. HUGE difference."}~ I felt that in my heart. Even though I didn't share that post, it is important to my internal peace so I thought I'd write about it because I assure you that its only a coincidence, the fact that sometimes its related to politics. The banter, debates, and popular post discussions are a huge fuel source for my writing. I keep them close. Those talks are part of what frame us. What frames my perspectives anyways. Like it makes the edges more defined. I do share in some talks outside of social media that do the same thing, but either way, it's what is needed to help keep my mind fresh, my writings intact, plus my emotional and mental health stable as well. "Wouldn't I be OUTSTANDING in that capacity.", although John Bender said that under a slightly different context, I think its fits for me here. I use what you guys fuel to give back to you as I see it and repeat the cycle, as it were. Thank you for that. Now to shuffle and deal myself a fair, and sane hand I'm going to have to plan a vacation to see my Washington people, hopefully, sooner rather than later. I miss them fools more than anyone knows. They hold a huge piece of my heart in theirs, from my Fence Specialists family to my extended "other" family, (my everything else out there family.) The ones I spent holidays with and shared in joys and some sorrows with. The universe alone knows how much I love and miss the lot of them. I think quite a bit about being back there with them, although I could never, ever give up what I have here, back home with my family. In a perfect world we could all live somewhere close to one another, those from Washington and my family here, but . . .What I've gained by being back, along with finally holding a place in my family is pretty close to untoppable. Therefore, because I will never not be able to have them in my life a visit is the balance I'm going to need, as I did in reverse for the last several years. Anyways, with a tear in my eye and the small pain tearing at my heart, I will move from this topic, for now. Visit soon, seriously, period, exclamation point, stop. Period. End of discussion. I imagine a big part of why I'm missing them harder recently is probably because of the holidays, birthdays, my 6-year dope free anniversary are all coming up quick, and for the first several years they were the ones celebrating them with me. Don't get me wrong, making these new memories is worth more than its weight in gold, but a lot of silvers were shared with them. Remember to share the love and the laughter with the world around you. And please, please always be kind where you can, to who you can, especially if you know they're struggling with anything. Our world could be so much more than it gets credit for, as too the people living on it. Compassion doesn't make you weak, it makes you brave as it takes courage to stand up to those who don't agree with it. Until next week; "There are three ways to ultimate success: The first way is to be kind. The second way is to be kind. The third way is to be kind." - Mr. Fred Rogers

[topweeklyupdate]

TØP Weekly Update #43: The End (For Now, My Dudes) (7/2/17)

Nothing really ends.

This Week’s TØPics:

Schott Recap

Rock Sound 50 Interview

BLIND SPECULATION About the Next Era

And More (Tears, Mostly)

Major News and Announcements:

Only one piece of major news this week: they’re done. After over two years, well over two hundred shows, a butt-ton of awards, and countless moments of fun and joy, Twenty One Pilots has finished the album cycle that began in April 2015 with the announcement of an album called Blurryface. Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun worked their butts off for us. We’ll get into the nitty-gritty of how the era wrapped in the recap section and look to the future in BLIND SPECULATION, but first, let’s just appreciate the fact that they did it. 

With this album and the years of work that led up to it, Tyler and Josh became some of the biggest figures in music, generated no less than three smash singles, and took off their pants on national television. Most importantly, their increased visibility has introduced their music about anxiety, depression, and emotional honesty to a lot of people, some of whom have seen their lives changed for the better by the comfort and community that music brings. They’ve changed the world, without question.

Performances, Interviews, and Other Shenanigans:

It’s hard to believe that it’s been barely a week since the last show of the Blurryface Era. It feels like it was both years and mere hours ago. Highlights from the last show at the Schott:

Before the show even started, Mark and Brad were causing drama in the Clique. Mark created a very official-looking fake setlist that included an assortment of fan favorites melded very seamlessly into the existing line-up and slipped it into the background of several of the pair’s pre-show Snapchats. I think they both learned their lesson about the risks of waving Taxi Cab under the Clique’s nose.

Though the fake setlist didn’t make it to the stage, there were a few nifty alterations. My favorite: for the first time since Belsonic Fest way back in August 2015, the band performed “No Woman, No Cry” for the lead-in to “Ride”, this time with the assistance of MisterWives’ horn section.

Tyler’s (possibly final) WDBWOTV Speech was full of awkward pauses meant to keep the show going as long as possible and a shout out to his sister Madison, whose birthday landed on the date. Tyler called Maddie “the only woman he ever loved besides my mom and my wife... and my mother-in-law... and Josh.” Curse that boy.

Tyler’s final Trees Speech of the era was suitably great (even if it was regularly interrupted by screaming from the crowd, which you can forgive, I’d be hyped/sad as frick, too). Tyler made sure to emphasize how their story shows that people should never put a ceiling on their dreams. He also, with trademark humility, repeatedly pointed out that neither he nor Josh could have done this without each other and their fans. The part that hit me the most was when Tyler got transparent and admitted that he doesn’t really know what comes after this moment for them, and that he even thought while donning the Blurryface makeup for the last time that this might be it for the band. However, he pledged not to quit, asking only that the audience give them time to not just work on their material but to grow as people before coming back with new music.

Nothing in the whole show shook me more to the core than Tyler singing “Goodbye” in “Trees”. I’m still not over it.

Actually, this hug shook me even more.

Beyond the show, there was one more piece of content that came out this week that I feel has really been overlooked: the Rock Sound 50 interview. Tyler and Josh were voted the most influential figures in rock music by the mag’s readers, and they gave one of the most honest and in-depth interviews on that topic that I’ve seen from them in quite some time (largely because they haven’t really given a ton of interviews lately). Highlights from that interview:

When asked about what they think of being influential, Josh gives the most unexpected answer possible, but one that is also quintessentially Josh: he talks about watching Dean Martin Westerns with his dad. If you think that’s random, Josh’s explanation makes a ton of sense. He states that he felt like he got to know Dean Martin through how he portrayed himself across all the various films he was involved in over the years, and that he now understands how people can look at how he presents himself on stage and other media over time and connect with the person who has crafted all of those performances.

Tyler’s answer to the question of influence is also expectedly on point: “I don’t look at celebrities or people of a certain status and aspire to be them... I’m influenced by my family, by individuals who have endured struggle and who have bettered themselves or overcome tremendous odds.”

The interviewer states that the connection between the fans and the band is genuinely unbelievable. Tyler says that he thinks his music really resonates with people because it talked honestly about what he was thinking. There’s one point that I wish I could pick his brain about. Tyler says that he’s not fulfilled by writing about personal scenes, words, and things that don’t make sense to anybody else, and that he wants to make art and live outwardly in order to connect with people. This is confusing: after all, so much of his discography is cryptic, and he famously wrote a song about his personal “Kitchen Sink”. That said, the core feelings of those songs are pretty evident and obviously connect with tons of people. I dunno. Again, would like to see if that populism is something that Tyler wants to incorporate more into his music and has been thinking about as his art has evolved.

The band talks about the responsibility of being influencers, specifically pointing to the lessons they’ve learned by being older siblings. Josh talks about the accountability that comes with being expected to be a role model. Tyler conversely says that he “feels like knowing when to step back is part of being responsible.” Tyler goes further and points out that they really have a much lower public profile than many in their occupation and level of fame, and that that’s very much an intentional choice to not go on every TV show or take every photo. It’s important for him to have time to just stay huddled in a room and not risk giving a potentially bad example on his bad days. Furthermore, he says, “I don’t crave any more attention than I have already.

Tyler appears to get actually upset and even angry when the question of authenticity comes up, openly bashing the “mainstream, pop culture” idea that they were a constructed product or that their songs don’t come from a genuine place. Tyler is very proud that he’s able to say that he has never had someone co-write one of his songs, let alone had them made by another person. “Sometimes I want to scream that so hard. It’s like, ‘Don’t you get it? Don’t you get that this isn’t some formula? This is real, and people are drawn to it because it’s real.’”

When asked if people would be surprised that they’re influenced by fans more than the other way around, Tyler fully agrees. Josh says that fans don’t just inspire him with their creativity and talent, but also force him to be a better person even on days that he doesn’t much want to be. Tyler explains that, while he makes his songs to better and “mend” parts of himself (*sobs*), he truly feels alive when those emotions bounce back from fans who have taken them and applied them to themselves.

Tyler says that the music they’ve making now has weird, structurally unsound pauses meant specifically to encourage audience reflection and participation.

On the sole light-hearted note in the interview, Tyler jokes about how he can never find the right pants, and that “pants” would probably be in the name of his theoretical solo project (don’t even joke about that, fam).

Josh interestingly talks at length about his maturation in the last years, specifically in his newfound desire to be clear and considerate in his speech in order to make people feel love and accepted, even down to wanting to draw back from too many inside jokes with Tyler. I... don’t know how I feel about that. Is that just a social media criticism thing? Or is that genuine maturity, wanting to make yourself palatable to everyone? Or is it a fame thing? I don’t know. I’m immature as heck.

When discussing self-improvement, Josh states that, in addition to learning new sports, he is also continually interested in learning new instruments and more about composition. Tyler, on the other hand, says that he’s cautious about how to evolve. Specifically, he says that he never wants to be unhappy with where he’s currently at or to look at his past work and not be proud of it. We hope you never do either, boss.

BLIND SPECULATION OF THE WEEK:

Now, the big question: What’s next? I’ve brought this up before in speculation segments, but recent events have caused me to alter my predictions somewhat. Last time, I said that I thought we wouldn’t get an album until next year, but that we almost definitely would get at least a promo track by December. Now I think I might have been overzealous.

It seems pretty clear that Twenty One Pilots has not been in the studio in their relative down-time over the last few months- any days that they weren’t vacationing or moving into new houses were probably spent rehearsing for festivals and TDC. That doesn’t negate the fact that Tyler and Josh have said that they’ve been already been working on new music a number of times over the last few months, but it does greatly lower the likelihood that they’re only a few months out from completing a project. Furthermore, just from reading the vibe of recent interviews and speeches, I think Tyler especially really needs to take at least a few months to himself. Tyler’s an extremely introverted and family-focused individual, and fame (not to mention the heavy workload of arena/festival touring) seems to have taken a bit of a toll. He clearly loves what he does, but he also clearly loves his wife, his friends, and his home, and he deserves a chance to reconnect with them, not just for his health and happiness (which is most important), but also to make sure that his creative voice remains grounded to reality. Plus... I mean, Tyler’s getting older, he’s barely a year out from thirty, guy’s been on the road the first two years of his marriage... that’s all I’m saying about that. Also, I’m sure Josh wants to go bowling, visit Universal a few more times, hang out with certain individuals, see the pyramids, and generally live an idle life for a bit.

Because of that, not only do I not think Tyler and Josh will have another album ready to go by the end of the year, I also think that they won’t even be in the studio by then. A six month vacation would give them both time to pursue other interests, invest in the people around them, and consider where they want to take the next project. Granted, label contracts, creative itches, and their work ethic might mean that they’ll be back well before that. And that would be great; no one would be happier than me to get music sooner rather than later. But my main priority is that Tyler and Josh are healthy and happy.

There’s a ton of other questions about upcoming projects, which I shall attempt to answer succinctly (too late) below to the best of my ability: 

How will the concerts and setlists change when they make a bunch of new music? Most of the deep cuts from past projects will probably start to go- I doubt we’ll have room for full performances for Polarize, Message Man, WDBWOTV, Hometown, *unsteady sobbing gasp* The Run and Go, The Judge, Migraine... Beyond that, I would be thrilled if the band made use of some of their newly-acquired capital to hire a touring band. The backing tracks were a great tool for the guys when they were broke college kids, but I do think that a lot of music critics who have scorned our band have a valid point that the greatest weakness to their performances is the lack of genuine live music. I honestly don’t know if this will happen, but the Mutemath collaboration leaves me optimistic that Tyler and Josh might see the value in searching out some talented folks to flesh out their sound.

Will they release any more one-off singles for films or other media in the vein of “Heathens” between now and another album? I dunno. Hard to imagine that they haven’t been approached after the runaway success of “Heathens”, but I feel like Tyler will want to devote his time to their next major project. 

Will they get bored in their off-time and go back to making Quality Comedy Content? I mean, Vine’s dead. But I don’t see why not. Go crazy, Jishwa, skate down the pyramids with your fidget spinners. Run another election, Lord knows we need one.

How will their rise to fame be reflected in their new content? I mean, there’s really no way it won’t in some implicit way. The pressures, judgement, and surreal-ness that come with that almost definitely will be on Tyler’s mind during the writing process. Honestly, though? I hope it doesn’t. Blurryface was already an album largely about dealing with insecurities and pressures involved in making music and art and, I’ll be honest, that’s what didn’t work about that album for me. Like Tyler said in the Rock Sound 50 interview, those parts spoke more to the band’s very unique experience, and I couldn’t relate to them as strongly as the paradoxically even more personal and emotional stuff in their prior projects. That’s right: on the final week of the Blurryface Cycle, I admit that I wasn’t actually completely sold every aspect of the album. I know, I’m a fake fan. However, Blurryface was still a great project made by immensely talented people, and I am so excited to see what they take away from it in making their future art

That’s all folks. I’ll be stepping away from writing regular installments of the blog for the foreseeable future, with maybe the odd one-off here and there if we get a good morsel of news (*cough*last Sleepers video*cough*) or maybe if I just miss my dudes. Hopefully I’m still in a place when the next era begins that I’ll be able to jump right back on the horse, but we’ll see where life takes me- and all of us, really. But I’m optimistic, and I know that, whatever happens I will always- always- love this band, which has given so many people hope and comfort when they needed it most.

Power to the local dreamer.

|-/