#only old Keith fans will remember the dark ages
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you told loli anon you don't defend or care about loli but literally a few posts before, you rbed a post that says people who are against pedo kinks on twitter just hate women. The person literally said "what do you think about this? (pedo, incest, rape)" and you rbed that post in agreement that people against pedo shit just hate women. That's probably the kind of thing anon was talking about and it's not the only time you've defended it.
You mean this? Tbh the anon seems a bit sus because they seems to be wording their ask in a generalized manner about woman and dark media. I mean not all dark media enjoyer are into certain things
I dont know man, but its true that people are often putting women on BLAST over the media they consume hence why I said those people are misogynistic. But the optics in this conversation is easily diverted towards "you support pedo" while the main issue that is being talked about is how fandom and society always put women under microscope over their media consumption (and everything)
Remember twilight hysteria?
and most of the time when fandom talk about 'pedo shit' its about things that cannot be legally labelled as child sexual abuse content that actually harming IRL people. Sesshomaru x Rin? Even tho Sesshomaru never touched Rin when she was underage? People scream its pedo. An SFW fan art of an aged up Anya from Spy X Spy? People call it pedo. NSFW art of an ADULT Azula? Pedo.
Shipping Zhongli with Hu Tao? Pedo. Your mom? P word
You can be uncomfortable with something like 14 years old Keith shipped with an adult Shiro from Voltron but refuse to waste your time fighting over it. I'm not into loli but why would I waste my time fighting lolicon online??? Unless those people are legit harming IRL children I'm just gonna filter the content
I have spoken against Terminator art that is using the likeness of an underage actor for nsfw/shipping fan art, I forgot whatever I post it to tumblr or not but its on twitter
I have also spoken against RPF that involving IRL childern/teens
I have seen so many bs online over it and so many false accusation towards innocent people, at this point unless someone is legit preying on irl children, or saving and consuming content that can be legally labelled as child abuse material I refuse to give a damn
I have reached "callout fatigue" point
People can read their incest noncon step sibling fanfic and do whatever so long they are not actually supporting it or legit abusing IRL people and support the abuse of IRL people.
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If you dont mind me asking. What is your problem with Lance Stans?
Alright. I knew I would get this sooner or later. Note I’m not about to pull punches. Also this is a long one because I don’t want to have to answer this again so strap in for a ride. Here’s MY experience with Lance stans. This won’t even get into my experience with Klantis. Because that’s just a whole different ball game.
So, In the beginning everything was fine. And I can say that with confidence because I was in the Tumblr Voltron tag the day the show’ first season dropped on Netflix. I was that excited. Voltron was my childhood and I loved the direction they were taking it and I wanted to talk about it. I instantly loved all the characters but Keith, having been my favorite character in the 80’s series quickly became my favorite once again so I was excited for content on him especially. I can tell you truthfully, that even back in the early days most of the Keith content was shipping him with Lance. At the time I was alright with that. I liked Klance.and everyone shipping it was really chill (if you can believe it) but I noticed that he was usually portrayed as a pining love interest who hyped Lance up and that bummed me out cause Keith was so much more than that, but I was confident that when Keith got more development that would change. But then things took a turn as Lance stans emerged as the most vocal fans in the fandom and Klance as the most popular ship. Because he got so little focus in the first season, people had to supplant their own views of Keith’s character to write fics and draw fanart. So Lance stans already had a certain view of Keith’s character and that was, a way to prop up Lance or highlight Lance’s insecurities so he could apologize to Lance and they could have Langst (Ugh) and Klangst.
Things took a turn in S2 when Keith got his character arc and more spotlight. I was ecstatic.More people started to appreciate KEith, I got more Keith centric fanart and headcanons and Fanfictions. But then I noticed A Lot of Lance stans started to grumble and complain aoubt Keith getting a character arc, because apparently it took away Lance’s screen time and ruined the view they had developed for Keith as a empty love interest. His bond with Shiro and the alone time he got with Allura threatened Klance. Him finding out his heritage, and piloting Black and going on solo missions with other Paladins threatened the view Lance stans had of Keith and because S2 established him as his own character, and back then, for Lance stans, everything Keith needed to revolve around Lance and Lance stans got bitter and the attacks began. Now it’s important to note that there were Hunk fans who were upset Hunk didn’t get an arc, but I never saw any of them go after Keith or his fans. Also other fans were also getting mad at other characters. There were those who went after Allura and Hunk during S2. But once again those fans didnt go after the fans of the characters and they didn’t hate on the characters just to hate, rather criticized their actions, from what I saw. But Lance stans were by far the most vocal, violent and the most antagonistic. It got to the point where Keith fans were forced to participate in the then budding discourse because Lance Stans hijacked the Keith tag and filled it with their crap with bashing Keith and his fans when they defended him and his arc. We were constantly defending him and constantly suffering personal attacks for defending him. I saw Lance stans throw around the words homophobic and racist ( Which was personally offensive to me as I’m black) at Keith fans because we were happy that Keith was getting development after an entire Season out of focus.Because being happy that Keith was getting an arc was a apparently a gross offense that warranted attacks on our personal persons.
Some of the things they said was absolutely insane. Keith was horrible because he argued back when Lance started fights with him. Keith was to blame for Lance’s insecurities because he was better than him at flying. Somehow Iverson chewing out Lance was Keith’s fault. To Lance stans Keith was only one of three thrings, an empty love interest who hypes and props Lance up, A terrible person to blame for Lance’s insecurities or a combination of the two. By extension Keith fans who so much as pointed out things like Lance being mean to Keith or expressed love for Keith were Terrible people who supported the sidelining of their precious golden boy. It didnt help that I didnt know how to exclude tags on Ao3 at the time so I couldnt escape it even if I left tumblr.
As someone who viewed 80’s Keith as her Hero as a child, and who absolutely adored his new portrayal and related to him on every single level, seeing him get attacked so much was disheartening. Every trip to his tag had me leaving so sad and upset.
It got even worse when s3 dropped and Black Paladin Keith was confirmed. After months of Lance stans ragging on us and screaming for Black Paladin Lance and making headcanons about how Keith would never be chosen for the Black Paladin and that the Black Lion would absolutely reject him for Lance , to have all that debunked with Black actually rejecting everyone else and accepting Keith was too much and it sent Lance stans into a nuclear meltdown. The attacks came more and more, everyday in the tag turned into a war. Many Keith fans had to make separate accounts to combat the hate just to keep it all from our main account. It was TERRIBLE. There were so many Lance stans in the Keith tag claiming that Keith was a terrible character, that he didn’t deserve screetime and that Lance should be the main character, the black paladin, that he should get all the arcs and after months of fighting for the right to have Keith as my favorite character I. WAS.TIRED. I was tired of fighting just to have a good experience in the tag. I was tired of the attacks. I was tired of watching other Keith fans get attacked and get fed up and complain about how much they had to block and filter just to have a positive experience. I was tired of words like homophobic and racist being thrown out by Lance stans like candy. I was just tired. And so I stepped out of the fandom. I tried to still watch the show but it just reminded me of the horrible time I had and I stopped watching it as well.
I occasionally stepped my toe back in a couple of times like when Keith’s blog dropped, when his birthday was revealed, when Krolia was introduced and when the fandom did something particularly toxic and I just had to know, but my time watching the show and ��interacting with the fandom was done.
Until the last season dropped and there was a huge movement of people leaving the fandom and I wanted to see what was so bad and I ended up binging the entire show and rediscovered my love for it (Excluding S8 because yeah) and Keith. And thus I wondered back into the fandom.
So in conclusion, Lance stans ultimately drove me away from Voltron ( A franchise I’ve loved since I was a literal child) and I’m not ashamed to say I deeply resent them for it. I’m mature enough to admit that not all Lance stans are like that, that some hate the toxic stans just as much as I do , that some absolutely love and respect Keith but there’s too much negative feelings that I hold for that side of the fandom so i felt it best to just entirely exclude them from my Voltron experience. There’s too much of a chance that I’ll run into toxic ones again and I don’t want my time in this fandom to be ruined again. This fandom under all the toxicity can be really fun and nice and I refuse to give up on something I love ever again. And it sucks because I do love Lance and I have to pretty much stay away from his tag.
It doesn’t help that Lance stans still have the reputation of being the toxic side of the fandom for not only switching to bashing every other character in the show ( even side characters) for being ‘mean’ to Lance, but also for going after the cast and crew of the show ( Lance Stans attacked Neil Kaplan in droves because he said something about Lance), and that terribly cringy thing with the Lance stan at SDCC literally yelling at the voice actors because they felt no one appreciated him. It also doesn’t help that even now it’s a running joke even to people OUTSIDE the fandom to ‘watch what you say about that Blue guy from Voltron or his cult of fans will attack you.” I don’t want to be anywhere near that shit.
The silver lining is that the love and appreciation for Keith is at an all time high and the posts I do unfortunately come across that bash him all come from posts Lance stans made in 2017, or as I like to call ‘ the dark ages of Keith fandom’. And that Keith hate is actually out of the norm and other fans, not only Keith fans are quick to shut it down and that Fans of the other characters are just as quick to go after the fanatical Lance standom making everything about Lance. Turns out taking a break and coming back actually resulted in a much better environment so y’know small mercies and all that.
#vld#voltron legendary defender#lance mcclain#keith kogane#vld lance#vld keith#only old Keith fans will remember the dark ages#sheith#pro sheith
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THE TOO GOOD TEN with MADS LANGER
Growing up in the countryside near the small town of Skive, singer, songwriter and musician Mads Langer grew up always knowing he’d be in music. From singing songs at the age of 18 months in his own language to his latest release, “Lightning,” the new dad has been pursuing the dream for a long time now. Through honest, original and disruptive music the Danish singer has been able to be reborn time and time again through his music and continues that creativity as he looks to the release of his upcoming EP, Where Oceans Meet. The boundary pushing message of love is love in “Lightning” serves as a taste of the upcoming EP and contributes to the already 38 million streams and 506k monthly listeners he’s amassed across his career. He takes a break from his world domination to take on the latest Too Good Ten. Check out the full interview below to learn more about the latest release, “Lightning,” how becoming a dad has changed his perspective on life, how he rebounded from getting dropped by his girlfriend and label around the same time and much more.
The Too Good Ten. Ten Questions. One Artist. Too Good.
1. Looking at the beginning of your career – what was it about music that inspired you to pursue a career in it?
MADS LANGER: Expressing myself through music has been a fundamental part of my language for as long as I remember. My parents have recordings of me singing my own songs in my own language when I was 18 months old. I always knew that music was going to be my path in life. It wasn't a decision that I made at a certain time. It was more a realization that I was not gonna be able to pursue any other career even though I’ve always had plenty of other interests. I could have been in politics, in sports, in science and many other things. I could have been a teacher as my parents, my grandparents and my great grandparents were. And then again, none of these career paths were ever up for grabs. Music was and always will be my thing.
2. You got signed and had an album that you ended up describing as “flopped” and had to start over and spent time busking all over Europe. How did you come to the decision to busk in the wake of “starting over?” What did you do to keep your internal mental conversation strong through the hardships that I assume came with traveling around?
ML: I got signed when I had just turned 18. I went straight from living in my parents house, in the countryside of Denmark, to living a life full of pressure and expectations in New York City. That was quite a shocking change of scenery to be honest. Looking back, I was definitely too young at that time. When a major label first wants you it’s the end of the innocence. I had to grow up overnight and try to keep up with that big machine that started dictating how I was gonna live my life. When my first record didn't succeed commercially and I got dropped I think I saw it as an opportunity to do some of the stuff that most of my friends had done after finishing high school. But most of all that whole 6 months of busking in my old van all over Europe was an escape from heartbreak. My first girlfriend had dropped me around the same time that my label dropped me. She fell in love with a really cool guy in Paris who was older than me and he could grow a very impressive beard, hahaha…
As far as keeping my internal mental conversation strong, that's has never been problem at all and as you can imagine I had plenty of stuff to think about, write about and then finally sing about in the streets of all of these beautiful cities that I got to visit on that trip.
3. “Lightning” is the latest release and gives fans the first taste of your upcoming album Where Oceans Meet which is due out October 1st. How did you decide to release this one as the lead single? What was the inspiration behind it?
ML: In many ways, I think “Lightning” is a song that represents that certain place where the oceans meet on my album. “Lightning” is a song about recognition. When I wrote this song, I thought about all those moments in my life where I really felt recognized on a deeper level. When I met my wife. When I looked my newborn daughter in the eyes for the first time. In concerts when my music meets the audience and it feels like we're all getting struck by the same lightning. Those kinds of moments.
CHECK OUT THE FAUSTIX REMIX OF “LIGHTNING” HERE.
4. Speaking of the upcoming album – what’s the meaning behind the album title? How many songs? Any collabs? Is there a song on the album you’re nervous about releasing out to the world?
ML: Where Oceans Meet is a metaphor. The entire album circles around the different contrasts that we all face in our lives. The light, the dark. The head, the heart. Hopes and fears. It’s about loving and longing at the same time. Where Oceans Meet represents the idea of the place where all these contrasts meet and embrace each other.
5. “Lightning” follows up “Hanging With You” which peaked at #1 in Denmark radio. What’s the story behind when you first heard one of your songs on the radio? Does it ever get old?
ML: It never gets old. Every time I listen to the radio, I must admit that I hope that they will play my song. It's the best feeling ever. This might be a little far-fetched, but it's kind of like when you give someone you really care for a present for their birthday. And it's not just any kind of present. It’s a present that you put all your time, thoughts and heart into. And then one day you randomly turn on the TV. Look who's there. Is that special person that you gave the present to. She’s actually wearing that sweater that you spent five years learning how to knit. After endless attempts, you finally managed to knit a sweater that you would give her without being scared that she would think it was a joke. She’s not wearing it because she feels like she has to, because you’re on a date with her. She’s wearing it because she likes it. And she just put it on that day that she randomly got stopped by the tv-station and interviewed in the streets of your hometown. That is close to the feeling I get when I hear my songs on the radio. And no, I have no clue how to knit a sweater, but I like the image.
6. The past year in the pandemic had a lot of its own challenges but it also had some beautiful moments like the drive-in concert you organized in Denmark last May. Why did you feel it necessary to put something like this together during that time? Being the first one to do so, how did you figure out logistics, etc. for the entire event? Anything you would’ve changed about it looking back?
ML: I had just started touring when the pandemic hit us all. I had spent months preparing the show and I was extremely disappointed when I had to turn around the tour bus and go back home after only playing 10 out of 100 shows. I had a couple of weeks where I was feeling really depressed. But then I decided to see if I could turn this whole thing into some sort of an adventure. I made a list of stuff I wanted to do. On that list I had drive-in concerts for some reason. I know a couple guys who are really good at putting together big events that include live music, so we talked about how we could make this happen. All credit to them for putting logistics together. I just played the shows. I had no idea that I would be the first one in the world to do a drive in concert. But it was really fun and I would not change a thing. In my shows, everyone was on the same video conference call. I loved that because I could talk to the people in the cars in between the songs. The people in their cars requested what songs of mine that they wanted to hear. And often they had really personal stories to the songs that I never heard before. So that was something that I will never forget.
7. The past year also brought about a new baby for you – congrats! What’s been the most surprising thing about having a baby that you might not have known before?
ML: Thank you so much. Yeah, that's truly a life changing event. My little daughter is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'm so grateful that I got to receive a little soul with my wife. Even though it has happened billions and billions of times already it still feels like a miracle. I think the biggest surprise is the fact that your whole perspective changes in the blink of an eye. She is now the single most important thing in my life. I thought that would be something that would happen gradually, but for me it really happened at the moment that she was born.
8. What do you hope to accomplish with your music in the future that you may feel you have not done already? Have any of those goals or aspirations shifted with the new addition to the family?
ML: I really hope that people will recognize themselves in my songs. Obviously, the goal is that my songs will travel and become part of people's lives in new territories. I have spent so much time in the US since I moved away from home. I lived in New York City and in Los Angeles and I spend at least three or four months a year in the US working with all the talented people that I have met over the years. Building an audience in the US is a huge dream of mine. Hopefully this album will help introducing me to people all over America.
9. If you could only listen to (5) artists for the rest of your life, who would they be?
ML:
The Beatles
Pink Floyd
Keith Jarrett
Mozart
Radiohead
10. What’s the rest of 2021 and beyond look like for Mads Langer?
ML: My album comes out in October. That is obviously a huge event in my life, and it looks like I'm going to be very busy talking about the album and singing the songs from it in many different places all over the world. Apart from that I will be changing diapers on my newborn daughter. Kissing my wife. Learning Chinese and writing my first score for a movie that comes out in 2022.
A HUGE shout-out to the talented Mads Langer for hanging for this latest Too Good Ten interview. Keep up to date with everything he has going on by following the links below and be sure to be on the look out for his latest EP, Where Oceans Meet due out October 1st.
SOCIAL LINKS:
Facebook
Instagram
Twitter
YouTube
MUSIC:
Apple Music
Spotify
#music#song#interview#interviews#pop#singer#songwriter#madslanger#toogoodten#thetoogoodten#lightning#whereoceansmeet#denmark#thebeatles#pinkfloyd#keithjarrett#mozart#radiohead#indie#independent
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A Tale of Two Shadow Men
1920s New Orleans was a vibrant place full of jazz, music, and a blending of various cultures. Good food and music were the few things that could bring the rich, the poor and everyone in between together. A few times during the year, like during Mardi Gras, people could forget their ordinary lives and just lose themselves in their minds and in the moment.
Of course, reality would rear its ugly head once again, and the people would go their separate ways. The rich lived in the well-maintained Garden District, surrounded by mansions, ivy, elegant clothing and luxury. In contrast, the poor and working class gave up many hours to earn enough money just to feed their families. That is, if they were even lucky enough to have jobs. Women and non-white individuals had it worse in comparison to the privileged white men.
Within New Orleans, there is an infamous tale that nearly everyone knows. One that, at first glance, seems like a myth to frighten children or to keep troublemakers in line. But this tale is aimed not just at children…and it’s all too real. It serves as a warning to anyone who might easily be swayed down the wrong path.
It is the classic tale of the Shadow Man.
The Shadow Man in question is Francois Keith Facilier, more commonly known as Dr. Facilier. He is noticeable by his dark brown skin, black mustache, slender build and graceful moves. He wears purple and black and carries a cane. His suave personality and silver tongue could convince many people to believe him. Many individuals thought their wishes would come true after seeing the shady businessman, only to find themselves grow old or hairy or have bad luck follow them around. All the while, Dr. Facilier would smirk and count the coins in his hands. His violet eyes are full of greed, reflecting his selfish nature. Dr. Facilier is notorious for scamming people, making deals, and smooth-talking his way out of almost anything.
Born June 4, 1880, in New Orleans, Dr. Facilier grew up in a poor household. Due to his background and the constant racism in his life, Facilier grew to be envious of the rich early on in his life. Ironically enough, his mother, Clementine, had royal blood. Her father (Facilier’s maternal grandfather), Louis was a king of New Orleans, making her a princess. Clementine was also royal in that she was a descendent of Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. Clementine was a beautiful black woman who worked tirelessly to help with her son’s future. She had fallen in love with David, her dark-skinned husband. Clementine fell from grace before Facilier’s birth when her lovely estate was ransacked and burned by jealous criminals. She was soon forced to start her life from scratch. She eventually met a chef named David, fell in love and got married to him.
Interestingly enough, Dr. Facilier’s maternal grandmother was none other than Mama Odie, the blind Voodoo priestess who was born in 1729! (She’s 197 in 1926, older than Marie Laveau) (Mama Odie knew Marie Laveau during her lifetime and they collaborated on magic rituals!) Her expertise in Voodoo magic and spiritual bond with Marie enabled her to live as long as she did.
Facilier’s parents lived in a poor area near the bayou swamp. Over time, David became alcoholic and distant from his son. He was drafted into World War One and was killed in battle. Single and alone, the innocence that Clementine had was eventually gone. Clementine sought the wealth and luxury she had previously enjoyed. She desired it so much that she went to Mama Odie for guidance. Mama Odie told her that she and Dr. Facilier should enjoy the pleasant modest life they had.
Facilier used to be in love with a woman (who would give birth to his daughters Freddie and Celia), but she then pursued a wealthy man, making him jealous. Facilier used to use magic for good with Mama Odie but turned to the dark side.
But a modest life wasn’t good enough for either of them. Not with the daily struggles and up-turned noses from royalty and the better-off.
Clementine instilled a drive for greed into her son early on. She taught him that life simply was not fair, and that the wealthy whites always got their way. Facilier was upset that those like Prince Naveen and Eli “Big Daddy” La Bouff could enjoy their lives without laborious work or discrimination. Before long, Clementine got so desperate that she went to the dark Loa to seek their aid. They offered her wealth and a chance to start her own business. Soon enough, Clementine was running her own parlor where she read people’s fortunes and offered them their fantasies for money. She even went as far as becoming a mistress to a few of her male clients in exchange for a heap of money and jewelry.
Facilier learned of her tricks at a young age and she taught him the art of acting and manipulation. For a while, Clementine was content on watching other’s lives dwindle away while she could feel the satisfaction of being recognized and respected once again. (She made sure that those who ransacked her house had eternal bad luck). Like his father, Facilier’s mother also became distant from him, even slapping him when he misbehaved. Her son had become nothing more than a business assistant to her.
But her new life and magic powers came with a steep price. It wasn’t long before she fell gravely ill. Her skin got wrinkled like a raisin and her hair straggly like old grass. She had misused her powers and the price to pay was her own life. She soon passed away to Guinee and all that was left of her was her shrunken head, which Facilier kept in his emporium. Now the young man was left to fend for himself, with only the knowledge from his mother and the hungry stares of the evil wooden spirits watching him. Despite his mother being abusive, Dr. Facilier still missed her at times.
Not long after that, Dr. Facilier formed an alliance with the dark Loa, specifically to Baron Samedi and Met Kalfu. The wealthy had insulted him and ruined his life for long enough. He also wanted to continue his mother’s legacy, doing what he did best.
Why work hard when other people could do the work for you?
He started to dress and act like Baron Samedi, hosting musical numbers and parties in his name. Grand-Mama Odie tried to reason with her grandson, warning him that getting involved with the Loa would only bring disaster. She also reminded him of the true nature of Voodoo and Hoodoo; a cultural faith based on ancestor and saint reverence. But Facilier just laughed it off, calling her an “old senile mambo.” Facilier was too far gone after being persuaded by the cunning shadows to make a deal. His own shadow (Reilicaf) took a life of its own, reflecting his true emotions and intentions. Mama Odie found peace and connection to the spirits and her snake pet in the swamp, the place she called home. Mama Odie knew that there was no point in fighting him…unless he intended to cause harm to New Orleans. (She was powerful, but she didn’t want to harm her grandson or cause further harm to others. She decided to let him learn his lesson).
(Possible Twisted Tale book “Almost There” What if Tiana made a deal with Dr. Facilier? by authors Lim, Braswell or Calonita)
(“Disney Chilled: Fiends On The Other Side” book by Vera Strange)
AU: Takes place before Princess and the Frog
Jamal, an African American boy has lived in his twin brother Malik’s shadow all his life. Malik has a fan club, and always gets chosen in science class and gym class. Jamal feels invisible��not even his parents seem to notice him. He doesn’t even enjoy his jambalaya and ice cream. One day, Malik gets a trumpet from his grandmother and Jamal gets a skull necklace with beads and feathers. She leaves him a message that the skull necklace would protect him from the shadows. Jamal misses the bus and hides from Corton and his gang of bullies behind a dumpster. He soon runs into Dr. Facilier who offers him a chance to be popular. The red eyes from the skull glow in warning, but Jamal feels compelled to walk into the emporium. Dr. Facilier presents Jamal with a tarot card showing him proudly holding a trophy. Jamal fails to notice the image of his brother cowering in the shadows. Jamal runs to leave, the voodoo dolls watching him.
Dr. Facilier torments Jamal with tarot cards, nightmares and shadows coming after him, even Jamal’s own shadow. Jamal’s grandmother appears in a dark dream, chiding him of his choice. A tarot card reading “Death” appears by his feet. The shadow man arrives to his house one night and demands the necklace in order for him to get his wish. Jamal considers offering something else valuable. With sinking guilt, Jamal steals his brother’s trumpet and gives it to Dr. Facilier. The villain laughs and vanishes.
The next morning, Jamal finds that his parents don’t remember Malik. He looks and sees pictures of himself being successful at school, instead of his brother. He is class president and has fans asking him to sign yearbooks. He soon finds out that Malik was turned into a shadow, unnoticed by anyone except him and his skater friend Riley. Malik is furious at his brother for stealing his trumpet and being so foolish. Riley says that her grandmother has the same necklace that Jamal has. She leads the group into the bayou swamp where her grandmother lives. But Dr. Facilier sends his dolls and shadows after them. They nearly get eaten by possessed alligators when Riley’s grandmother throws dust to break the spell and save them. In the house, Riley’s grandmother reveals the same necklace that Jamal has. She reveals that Dr. Facilier used to be part of a magical order with her that used magic for good. But then he became fascinated by dark magic and soon tried to stop them. His dark magic killed Jamal’s grandmother, who had hidden under dark veils and wanted to protect her children.
The dolls burst into the room. Riley and her grandmother hold them off with magic as Jamal and Malik flee. A hurricane forms above them. They enter a clearing and soon are face to face with the shadow man. Dr. Facilier’s shadow arrives and strangles the shadowy Malik. Jamal begs him to let him go but Dr. Facilier demands him to hand over the necklace. Jamal realizes, too late, that Riley and Malik had been his true friends all along. Riley’s grandmother warns that Dr. Facilier will be unstoppable if he gets the necklace. Riley steps in to help with her staff but the dolls pin her down.
Jamal realizes that if he breaks the necklace, Dr. Facilier will lose his soul. Dr. Facilier then says that if he dies, then Malik will vanish forever, as he is the only one who can reverse the curse. Malik is about to get eaten by Dr. Facilier’s shadow. Feeling pity for his brother, Jamal gives him the necklace in defeat. Dr. Faciler grins and grows taller in power, eyes red. Jamal then demands that he release Malik…only for him to become a shadow as well. Dr. Facilier laughs, saying that he didn’t promise Jamal that he would save him. A hurricane devastates New Orleans and Dr. Facilier briefly becomes a mayor, doing martial law. He is able to make decisions and plans to take over New Orleans. Jamal and Malik remain unnoticed by their parents who live a life without their children. The brothers begin to fade as Dr. Facilier laughs and says, “Now you know what it’s like to lurk in the shadows…forever!”
Mama Odie eventually breaks the spell and brings down Dr. Facilier’s rule after the city recovers from the hurricane. But Jamal, Malik, Riley and their grandmothers remain dead.
(“Princess And The Frog” by Disney)
1926
The Loa grant the witch doctor Facilier dark magic and he uses it to swindle the citizens of New Orleans for easy money. He “grants” wishes and poses as a shady businessman. Despite his magic powers, Dr. Facilier still struggled financially and wanted to seize the La Bouff fortune. He plots to use Naveen and Charlotte’s union to seize their fortune. However, if Dr. Facilier failed to properly pay the Loa back, he would lose his soul. Still, he was willing to take that risk.
At his parlor, he offers Naveen freedom while offering Lawrence a chance to live the life of a prince. He reads their Tarot cards, and Naveen fails to see the green lily pads in the background. Naveen is turned into a frog and Lawrence becomes a copy of Naveen through a talisman. Dr. Facilier planned to murder Eli “Big Daddy” La Bouff as Charlotte and the disguised Lawrence got married, the two villains would then split the money 60-40. Dr. Facilier wanted to become the most powerful man in the city.
Later on, Dr. Facilier asks for help from his “friends on the other side” after Naveen’s blood runs out from the talisman. Dr. Facilier offers the dark spirits the souls of the citizens as payment, and he soon gains an army of shadow demons to track down the heroes.
Naveen escapes and grabs the talisman, saving Big Daddy. Dr. Facilier kills Ray and creates an illusion of Tiana’s restaurant to try and persuade her. Tiana breaks free and shatters the talisman. The spirits enter the cemetery and drag Dr. Facilier to the Voodoo spirit world (Guinee) to be tormented forever.
(“Murder On The Air” by Kathy Prior 42)
(“Hazbin Hotel” by Vivziepop)
This is where the story of Dr. Facilier should end. He was a man green with envy over the lives of the rich. His desire led him down the path of evil and darkness. He almost had Tiana and New Orleans under his control, but thankfully Tiana, Naveen, Ray, the crocodile and the others saved the day.
But not many people know that Dr. Facilier wasn’t alone. In fact, there was a second Shadow Man that existed in New Orleans. But who was it?
The obvious answer would appear to be Dr. Facilier’s shadow. But that’s not the case, despite it being an actual man of shadow. The man was actually a physical man.
No, it wasn’t the Axeman either, though the other man was a serial killer…perhaps even worse than the Axeman himself.
Not only did this Shadow Man exist…he was also Dr. Facilier’s younger distant cousin.
Dr. Facilier had a father and a royal mother, Clementine. Dr. Facilier’s grandmother was Mama Odie. Mama Odie had a twin black sister named Odette, a woman of Native American descent who revered Yemaya. She was also related to Marie Laveau. Odette didn’t live as long as Odie (She lived long due to magic and genetics) but shared her feisty personality. Odette died long before the 1920s but not before she gave birth to a few children after marrying Mathis, a jazz musician. Her favorite child was a girl named Antoinette Loretta Duvalier. She followed in her footsteps, becoming a well-known Voodoo priestess and doing good deeds for the community.
Antoinette enjoyed her life, but also faced discrimination and a hard job. She was pressured to marry and meet societal expectations. To have a more stable life, she married a white French man, named Armand Louis Moreau, who was equally in love with her. Armand’s parents did not approve of the interracial marriage but Armand pledged his devotion to his wife. The couple then had a French Creole son on January 24, 1896…a boy named Alastor.
Alastor grew up in New Orleans, raised by his father and mother. As a young child, he was exposed to the wonders of the woods and secrets of the swamp. Although his family was far from rich, he was still able to live a fairly comfortable life. He had short brown hair, brown eyes and medium brown skin. He would often wear glasses, bow-ties and suspenders. Although he, too was jealous that the rich lived better off, little Alastor mostly pursued his passion for music and theater early on. He especially enjoyed all the festive holidays like Mardi Gras, All Soul’s Day, St. John’s Day, Christmas and more.
As time went on, Alastor started to be bullied by his peers for his heritage and “feminine” interests. It wasn’t uncommon for boys to throw rocks and mud at him, calling him “Chocolate Boy” or racial slurs. They would pour cold water on him, telling him to “wash off.” Playing musical instruments and doing theater were the only good parts about school. Whenever Alastor would get sad, his mother would tell him, “You’re never fully dressed without a smile.” He learned to appear happy and confident as much as possible, after all, “boys don’t cry.” Alastor and his mother were inseparable. Antoinette taught him how to make jambalaya and Creole meals, how to sew Voodoo dolls, do rituals and play music. They would dance together to the gramophone. In contrast, Armand wanted Alastor to get into more “masculine” interests like sports, hunting and girls. But Alastor wasn’t interested in anyone as he grew up. Alastor got through the days by working hard and smiling like he had no care in the world. Louis Armstrong and his mother were his lifelong role models. He was a happy, go-lucky kid who respected his ancestors and rolled along with life.
But events built up over the years that would led to a traumatic event. Armand grew tiresome of Alastor, even calling him a “mixed bastard of sin.” Armand went to church more and felt more pressure to conform from his parents. He started hitting and beating Alastor whenever he misbehaved. He would chide his wife for not having the house clean enough or for not having dinner ready. Alastor learned hunting and taxidermy from his father, and also how to shoot a gun. But aside from hunting trips in the winter, their relationship was distant and strained.
One fateful night around ten years old, Alastor caught his father hooking up with another woman behind his mother’s back. Furious, Armand stomped into Alastor’s room and proceeded to molest the little boy. Alastor’s mother came in to comfort him and wash him up, but Alastor was adverse to touch ever since. Antoinette couldn’t do anything, as Armand was the head of the household. To the delight of Armand’s parents, Armand declared his divorce to Antoinette, where he would take most of their stuff and leave Antoinette and Alastor in poverty. After beating his son, Armand was about to rape his sleeping wife to “teach that whore one more lesson.” But before he could, Alastor snapped. With shaking hands, he takes a riffle and shoots his father square in the chest. This startles Antoinette awake. Alastor quickly hides the body outside and Antoinette never knows what he did.
Alastor grew up and completed school. As a teen, he collected bugs, swam in the creek, befriended gators, hunted and hiked. He also enjoyed the Picture Show, going to as many shows as he could. He began to smoke and explore more death-related rituals and the dark Loa. His also let his dark brown hair grow long, up to his chin.
In 1912, Alastor witnesses the Titanic sinking in the newspaper. A hurricane arrives in New Orleans, but Alastor and his family rescue other people and recover. Alastor decides to let a cruel policeman drown instead of helping him.
World War One arrives and Alastor is drafted. While there, he witnesses his comrades die next to him. He is part of the team that operates radios for communication. After returning home, his interest in radios increases and he begins crafting his own.
Sadly in 1918, the Spanish Flu occurs, resulting in the death of his beloved mother. No doctors are willing to help. A heartbroken Alastor is left to bury his mother in the cemetery next to his grandmother. In a fit of rage, Alastor kills criminals at night in disguise, earning him the Vigilante title. Alastor was no longer connected to his ancestors, his Voodoo magic turning Petro red. Alastor trailed down the dark path, leading him to practice the stereotypical evil Voodoo portrayed in media. He even began placing curses and hexes on people, wearing alligator teeth on a necklace.
Soon, it was just him and a life of poverty. Alastor nearly commits suicide in 1920, but comes across Dr. Facilier at his emporium. Both of them find out they’re cousins and they pursue music, wine, cooking and dark magic together for several months. Facilier then reads Alastor’s fortune and attempts to steal what was left of his money. Facilier promises him a better life with wealth and less grief. Alastor agrees to his deal.
Met Kalfu, Baron Samedi and Furfur embed Alastor with powerful Eldritch magic to use in the afterlife should he win. (But these Loa weren’t the traditional Papa Legba, Kalfu and the others Alastor had revered in the past. These beings were pure evil.) In order to assure his powers, they tell Alastor to offer human souls to them, which he eventually does. His powers would increase, the more souls he collected. Alastor’s faith and heart breaks as he loses his connection with the genuine Loa and the saints of his youth.
Alastor offers his soul, afterlife powers and money to Dr. Facilier and the Loa if Dr. Facilier is able to achieve his goal of being wealthy and powerful. But if Facilier fails, then Alastor gains Dr. Facilier’s powers and servitude. Both men shake hands, along with their sentient shadows. There was another factor to the deal: The man who dies first would automatically lose. Alastor quickly leaves before Dr. Facilier gets any ideas.
The luck magic, coupled with hard work, enables Alastor to be a bandleader and gain fame for his work. Per agreement, Alastor gives Dr. Facilier some of his money to continue his dark work. The intrigued CBS arrive to interview Alastor about his performances in 1920. They hear of Alastor’s expertise in fixing radios and creating a crystal radio set of his own. Alastor is eventually interviewed and hired as a radio DJ in a low-class position. Playing the same songs soon got boring. Alastor didn’t put the effort into his music only to be stuck with more racism and a lower status. The higher ups were loudmouths standing in the way of his goal.
So he decides to eliminate them instead.
Alastor would soon be known as the greatest radio host in the city…and the Louisiana Lunatic serial killer. He takes great care to avoid the Axeman, and even writes a similar letter that he made, telling people to play jazz at night.
1920s
The Roaring 20s begins, the peak of Alastor’s life. He basks in wealth and fame, drinking liquor, bitter coffee, and flirting with women. He meets flapper performer Mimzy who quickly becomes his best friend. Mimzy falls in love with Alastor but he doesn’t feel the same way. They nearly have sex but Alastor refuses. Mimzy wants to marry Alastor and go on extravagant tours around the world. But Alastor prefers peace and quiet in the wilderness. Mimzy is saddened at this but they still remain close friends, performing and dancing together.
Mimzy accidentally drinks a poisoned drink set by Alastor that was meant for a womanizer rapist he was watching. He is heartbroken over his friend’s death. He doesn’t want to be tied down and he thinks his sexuality is something that is wrong with him. (The term asexuality didn’t exist and he remembers when his grandparents suggested he be put in an asylum).
During the Roaring Twenties, Alastor begins his killing spree of racist men, rapists, and criminals. He is called the Vigilante and the Louisiana Lunatic and kills his victims in various ways. Guns, knives, axes, traps, and fire were some of the many tools he used. Alastor spares women and children.
Alastor flirts with women and manipulates them because it’s fun to do. People who made deals with him often found their money stolen by him. Many women are charmed by Alastor but Alastor doesn’t get intimate with any of them. He enjoys dancing with women and being on stage. Alastor lavishes in wealth, buying new red suits and top hats, a fancy red car and a microphone cane with golden deer antlers.
On the radio, Alastor tells dad jokes (especially radio-themed ones) and describes the deaths of his victims in detail. No one suspects that he is the killer until much later. Alastor also pulls pranks on people for fun (thumbtacks, kick me signs, soap in drinks, whoopee cushions, plastic doorways). Before the end of every program, he plays his favorite song, “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile.”
1926
(The events of “Princess and the Frog” take place.)
Dr. Facilier’s shadows capture 30 year old Alastor and Dr. Facilier steals some of his stuff. Dr. Facilier mocks him and says that he’ll get to watch all of New Orleans fall. Facilier grins at the thought of being all powerful and watching the Loa steal Alastor’s soul. Alastor is shocked by the betrayal and his cruelty. Before Dr. Facilier can kill his helpless cousin, the shadows arrive with the frog Naveen. Alastor uses the distraction to escape. (Alastor couldn’t bring himself to kill his cousin). Dr. Facilier is dragged into the Voodoo spirit world by the Loa after failing to keep the talisman intact. A victorious Alastor grins as his cousin is dragged away screaming. Alastor is more than happy to announce his death on the radio.
The other Axeman’s letter:
Hell, 1929
Esteemed Mortal of New Orleans: The Louisiana Lunatic
They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the sound waves that surround your earth. I am not a human being, but a demon from the hottest hell. I am what you Orleanians call the Louisiana Lunatic. Down here, I’m the inevitable Radio Demon.
When I see fit, I shall appear and claim other victims as I see fit. I alone know whom they shall be. No clues will be left behind, save for what you might hear on the next broadcast.
Tell the police and the racist, elite scum of the world to beware. Let them try not to discover who I am, for it’d be better for them not to have been born than to incur the wrath of the Louisiana Lunatic. You’ll have a deer in the headlights look and won’t have any idea what hit you until after it’s too late.
Undoubtedly, you Orleanians think of me as a monster and murderer. But if I wanted to hurt anyone else here, I would have done so already. If I wished, I could pay a visit to your city every night. I could kill every one of your best and worst citizens, for I am in a close relationship with the Shadows of the Other Side.
At 6:06 pm next Friday night, I am going to pass over New Orleans and then visit those in Hell. I am going to make a little proposition to you people. Here it is:
I am very fond of jazz music, electro swing, and jambalaya. I swear by all the Loas and deities that I will spare those who can provide me with some great entertainment when I visit. Word of warning, I can read you people like a book, and see into your very souls. Anyone foolish enough to challenge me will have their corpses consumed and their screams muffled by the lovely sound of jazz bands jamming the night away.
I have been, am, and will be, the worst spirit that ever existed in fact, fantasy, or the realm of Hazbins.
Smile and stay tuned!
1929
The Great Depression comes into effect as well as the Stock Market Crash of 1929. Alastor enjoys reading about the chaos in the newspaper. People frantically sell their stuff and beg for jobs and money. He also enjoys seeing the orphans suffering homeless in the streets as it reminds him of his better off status. He also finds children annoying and undisciplined, a leftover trait from his father.
But soon, things take a downward turn. Alastor begins to lose money and food, his former glory days over. Alastor hoards radios and radio furniture in his house. He grows bony thin and his eyes have bags under them. Alastor grows unhealthy due to lack of food, and (almost!) resorts to cannibalism. He also fears losing his radio audience due to the prospects of TV. He meets Russian born Vincent (Vox), an ABC broadcasting company CEO who taunts him for his race and career. They get into a fight but victorious Vox leaves, saying to him that his days are over.
Alastor becomes depressed, cutting into his skin for rituals or just to taste his own blood…to feel something. His self-inflicted cuts add to the scars on his back and body from his dad and struggling criminals.
1929
Alastor finds an abandoned baby in a dumpster and briefly takes care of her. The Japanese baby is Nerissa Nefuti, also known as Niffty. Niffty is placed in an orphanage where she gets adopted by a picture bride and her husband, who travel to their home in California.
1933
Alastor becomes more careless with his killings, and is soon discovered by police in 1933. The police sends dogs after him, a German Shepard, a Pit Bull, and a hunting Black Lab dog. As he runs, he is bitten by a rabies infected dog in an alley. Alastor races through the snowy woods, experiencing painful headaches, and hallucinations of drowning and his parents being killed as deer. The police dogs bite at his legs but he shakes him off and runs some more.
A deer hunter spots him, thinking he’s a deer at first. He is fearful and disgusted by the madman who rushes at him head on. The hunter is Vox’s friend and Vox smirks. Alastor’s insane eyes beg the hunter to finish him off, as he didn’t want to be arrested. The hunter almost shoots him but finds he can’t do it. Vox then shoots Alastor between the eyes and his body falls. (Video Killed the Radio Star). The dogs bark and maul at Alastor moments before the gunshot. The police arrive and see the hole in his forehead, his glazed eyes, bloodied clothing and frozen smile. Alastor’s body is promptly burned, his belongings destroyed and his radios given away to an antique shop. His death is announced on his own radio station by none other than Vox before it, too, is done for. Many of his fans are saddened but the majority of New Orleans is relieved that the killer is gone. Vox is hailed as a hero before he returns to his job in another state.
Think that’s the end of Alastor’s story? Think again!
(“Hazbin Hotel” by Vivziepop)
Alastor arrives in Hell and becomes a red deer-like demon with sinister red eyes. With his human memories still intact and his new powers granted to him, he soon terrorizes Hell and broadcasts his massacres on the radio. This earned him the title of the Radio Demon. His shadow (Rotsala) had a life of his own, behaving much like Dr. Facilier’s sinister shadow sidekick. Alastor also has a microphone staff that allows him to broadcast anywhere in Hell. Alastor, too has singing friends on the other side.
(Dr. Facilier eventually becomes a snake demon and Alastor’s helpless slave in Hell. The Loa in Guinee decide to further torment him by sending him to Hell’s greatest tormentor, Alastor. Dr. Facilier gets further humiliated when his younger cousin tortures him and reminds him that he now has his powers. Hence how Alastor became a “ripoff” of Dr. Facilier.)
His parents are different as well. His father Armand became Neleus, a cruel black dog demon with large antlers. (Referencing Alastor’s fear of dogs and his father) His mother Antoinette became Poena, a humanoid red doe who can travel between Heaven and Hell.
(The events of the Alastor Prequel Comic and the Hazbin Hotel Pilot Episode take place.)
Alastor strolls around Hell, flirting with Victorian women and indulging in the act of cannibalism, thanks to his mentor Rosie. Alastor protects women from evil men but also doesn’t like strong-willed women who disagree with him or break the old societal standards. He reunites with Mimzy and they share a dance. Vox becomes a ruler over television, becoming Alastor’s powerful rival. While Vox seeks power through evolution, Alastor is content to be stuck in the past. (Alastor hates Vox, not just because of their differences in technology). Vox was also Niffty’s abusive husband.
Alastor makes deals with the cleaning cyclops Niffty and the alcoholic cat demon Husk. Both of them protect Alastor and do tasks for him in exchange for safety and comfort. Everyone runs away at the sight of him, leaving him with no real companions. (He misses his mother dearly, and will do anything to reunite with her). Alastor grows to dislike people in elite authority positions, and finds it hard to express his true feelings to anyone.
Feeling bored and lonely over the decades, Alastor seeks out a new form of entertainment. Alastor knows that Vox could overpower him easily if he doesn’t seek new alliances. Alastor witnesses Charlie, the princess of Hell on TV talk about her plan to redeem sinners by opening up a hotel. It is her hope that demons can become better individuals so they can go up to Heaven and be safe from the yearly exterminations that take place in Hell. Alastor visits said hotel and offers to help. He meets Charlie’s girlfriend Vaggie, and Angel Dust, one of the hotel clients. Alastor fixes up the hotel with his magic and summons Niffty and Husk to his aid. He almost convinces Charlie to make a deal with him. Charlie instead orders him to help her out. The two share a dance before Alastor protects the hotel from another villain. Everyone knows that Alastor is up to no good, but Charlie decides to give him a chance.
So there you have it: the two Shadow Men of New Orleans were once innocent boys who each wanted freedom, love and better lives. Alas, their choices along with their circumstances made them the popular shady showmen they are to this day. Is it unknown if these men can be redeemed or if they even want to at all. The two tales merge into one, with the most disturbing message of all. We all have shadows inside of us, and sometimes it doesn’t take much for a person to turn evil. Whether it be a slimy snake in the shadows or a dancing demonic deer, one can never be too careful when dealing with the darkness.
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#41
9.4.2020 - 9.8.2020
At age 5, sometime in the summer of 1983, I went to my first Mets game. I know they played the Montreal Expos. I’m pretty sure George Bamburger was still the manager. Tom Seaver was on the team. I do not know if he pitched that game. But I know I saw him pitch on tv as a Met that year.
My early childhood from that point forward was consumed with baseball (and cartoons) until about 1989 when the Mets were bad again. They just got worse until I went to college, but I still watched. I couldn’t watch Mets games in college, so I mostly forgot about baseball. I graduated in 2000 and came home to the Mets and Yankees in the Subway Series. And I was back in it.
The Mets predictably lost, and it was the worst because the Yankees were dynastic, but something else happened. After raising me as a Mets fan, my father outed himself as a Yankee fan.
My dad was born in Brooklyn in 1950 and raised in Sheepshead Bay, which is close to Coney Island. Story goes he asked my grandfather to go see the Dodgers and was told “next year”. That was 1957. He never got to see the Dodgers in Brooklyn. They, and the New York Giants, moved to California before the 1958 season. This is pretty fucked up. And though I never asked him while he was alive, it would make no sense for my grandfather to have claimed he didn’t know the Dodgers were leaving. It was the biggest news in Brooklyn.
For 4 years, there was only one New York team. The Yankees. They won the World Series in 1958 and 1961. They lost the World Series in 1960. The Mets first season was 1962 and promptly set the record for most games lost in a season, in the modern era. The Yankees beat the San Francisco Giants in the World Series that year. In 1963 the Yankees lost to the Los Angeles Dodgers, but who could root for the Dodgers after they left Brooklyn? That was traitorous. In ‘64 the Yankees lost the World Series to the St. Louis Cardinals. They were terrible after that.
In 1967, Tom Seaver debuted for the New York Mets. They were still the worst team in baseball. In 1969, led by Seaver, the Mets were champions. My dad, by this time in college, became a fan.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in tracing his sports allegiances, it’s that he’s a bandwagoner. We never watched hockey, but for some reason had 4 copies of an Islanders record from the early 80s. We never really watched football, but he did like to watch the Cowboys. Why wasn’t he a Giants fan? Or a Jets fan? It never really made sense.
The entire reason we went to that game in 1983 was my dad got tickets from work. The owner of the company he worked for had box seats about 10 rows behind the third base dugout. We would go once or twice a year and my dad would complain about traffic. We went to Game 1 of the 1986 World Series. I still have my ticket. It was a big moment for me, having just turned all of 9 years old. It’s still a big moment for me. We sat 6 rows from the back of the stadium and couldn’t see anything. But we were there.
I never had reason to believe my dad was anything other than a Mets fan. And then, there I am, freaking out in 2000 as Benny Agbayani hands the ball to a fan in the stands because he thought there were three outs, and my dad is outing himself further as a Yankee fan with every moment.
I don’t remember when this took place, but I know it happened. I was so angry I was raised a Mets fan. But it went something like this:
Why would you do this to your child? You know how bad they are. You read the paper. You never bothered to tell me the Yankees won the World Series in 1978. I could have gone through life as a carefree Yankee fan, not ever having to know the intricacies of the game, and never beating myself up in the years they weren’t competitive because they’re the fucking Yankees! They always come back.
At that point, I couldn’t give up the Mets. For the damage being invested in their losing had done to me, and for what it would continue to do to me. For 20 years until I left New York, I probably watched 150 games a year, whether on tv or at Shea. I didn’t just double down. It became all consuming. And gut wrenching. Hey! You had a shit day at work! Let’s agonize over this garbage team and argue with the tv announcers every day. As I bounced from apartment to apartment, job to job, there would always be the constant, soothing misery of the Mets.
The 2000 baseball season had been my introduction to Tom Seaver the announcer. Keith Hernandez too. I actually got to see him play. He was the quintessential first baseman. Now I got to listen to them regularly. Along with Ralph Kiner, Gary Thorne, and Howie Rose, they were fantastic. They talked about the game like a coach should talk about the game. Every game, regardless of how bad the team was, became a clinic in “How to Baseball”. I loved it.
In 2006, the Mets got their own broadcasting network and consolidated the announcing team. Ralph Kiner’s health had declined over the years and he would only return on home Sunday games. Fran Healy and Tim McCarver were finally, mercifully gone. Seaver left too. He had gone into winemaking in ‘05 and wanted to pursue it full time. Taking over play-by-play was radio announcer Gary Cohen. He had been Bob Murphy’s understudy and was a familiar pick. Keith Hernandez stayed and fellow 80s Met Ron Darling was added as well. They’re still in the booth today, and they’re fantastic.
Seaver would show up from time to time. There was never a down, dull moment with him. You’d get an adrenaline rush just listening to him.
I’m going to say something controversial. I hated Shea Stadium. It was a nasty, ugly place. But there’s one thing about it that CitiField just can’t replace. The entire stadium was built from concrete blocks and it was very closed in. Each entrance to the seating area from the concourse was like its own little tunnel into another world. You come out of the darkness and into the light of the greenest field you’ve ever seen. I got goosebumps and would nearly be on the verge of tears, every time I walked through, from that first game in 1983, until they tore the place down at the end of the 2008 season.
I did make sure to be there at the last game. It was terrible. The Mets needed to beat the Marlins to get into the Wild Card and it didn’t happen. Then we waited seemingly forever for the post-game ceremony to begin, absolutely fuming that we had been duped by this shit team again. Finally, things got started. Mets greats were announced. And Tom Seaver and Mike Piazza closed the centerfield gate together, formally closing the book on Shea. It was a good moment even though the season ended terribly.
We moved to California two years ago. This was my opportunity to finally get rid of the Mets. I was determined to do it. I started watching A’s and Giants games. I even started watching Dodger games. At the start of the season, I was set to ride the A’s and Dodgers all the way to a California World Series. Then COVID hit. The season was cancelled. I lost my job. School was cancelled. Bad news increased exponentially. And when the baseball season finally started in July, my wife said she wanted to watch the Mets. She wasn’t going to give me a choice either.
We met in 2006. She had moved to NYC the previous year and kinda bandwagoned her way into Yankee fandom. Because why not. She was really a football fan anyway. One of her previous boyfriends was apparently a huge Cubs fan. She says every time they lost he’d be upset for days. Which, historically, is a tough place to be as a Cubs fan. As we dated and got closer she saw just how many games I would watch on a yearly basis. It’s a lot.
She got used to me pacing around, guitar in hand, yelling at the TV. She studied for the bar exam through this. One time, I forget what was going on, she’s reading flashcards and I had taken issue with something Gary Cohen said. And I hear quietly, “don’t argue with Gary!” I can still hear the inflection in her voice in my head. I turned around and started telling her why I disagreed with him and her only response was “did I say that out loud?” Gary, Keith, and Ron were hugely important to not only her tolerance of my baseball tv domination, but also her appreciation of the game. She only knew Ralph Kiner as this cute old man. And every so often, Seaver would come back and she’d see me well up with visceral feelings.
I cried when Ralph Kiner died. Around 2014/2015 I wrote a blog titled “The Common Sense Mets Fan”. At the time, I was convinced the Sandy Alderson administration would right the team and keep the Wilpons at bay. I was wrong. Anyway, here’s what I wrote:
On the last day of the season, as usual, Gary Cohen said goodbye to Ralph Kiner. But there was something different about it this time. There was fear in Gary’s face, as though he knew this was his last opportunity to sign off with Ralph. I had seen hints of it in years past, but never like this. Sadly, Ralph passed today, I hope peacefully.
As a Mets fan, this is like losing a grandfather or great uncle. Ralph had always been there. From his stories about Elizabeth Taylor to his willingness to argue advanced metrics and hitting style with Keith Hernandez, he was ever present in the Mets broadcast booth. I’ll never be able to hear the game again the same way. Thank you, Ralph.
At the time, I said to my wife, “the next time I cry about the Mets, it’ll be when Tom Seaver dies.” This was before their 2015 run. Before the Wilmer Flores incident. Before I was sitting on my couch with a 1 year old, watching them in a World Series, as I did my best impression of Randy Quaid from Major League. I refused to allow myself to enjoy the success of the team because I knew they would lose. It was just a matter of when. And of course, they did lose to the Kansas City Royals. But they got a lot further than I thought they would.
When MLB decided to move forward with a truncated 2020 season, I was reluctant to watch. It’s not safe for anyone involved and seems to be all about corporate greed. But of course, like moths to a flame, we watched. And as I mentioned, my wife said, “we’re watching the Mets.” I didn’t want to. But she was right. In a year like we’ve never seen before, Gary Cohen, Ron Darling, and Keith Hernandez did something, and are doing something, nobody else is. They gave us levity and calm. Led by Gary, they are unafraid to address the news of the day while knowing the escape they provide. The BLM t-shirt moment was unparalleled. And unfortunately, they’d have another day to provide calm the next week.
As you well know by now, George Thomas Seaver died last week. He had contracted lyme disease years ago, while working in the vineyards. For some people, lyme goes undiagnosed for years while doctors treat the symptoms without putting it all together. This seems to have been what happened to Tom. It progressed with complications and he developed Lewy Body dementia. His family announced his retirement from public life and the Mets announced they would erect a statue to him outside of CitiField. They changed the address of the stadium to 41 Seaver Way. But in true Wilpon Mets fashion, still no statue.
Finally, last week, Tom died due to complications from COVID. I was sitting on the couch, watching some random baseball game and reading Twitter. I saw the Baseball Hall of Fame announcement on Twitter, exclaimed “oh no!”, and went upstairs to be alone for a minute. My wife was on the phone. She ran upstairs to see me sitting with my head in my hands and asked what happened. I told her and then told her how stupid I felt for letting this get to me. And she said, “yeah, but you said after Ralph died this would happen”.
Our son came upstairs to see what he was missing. I told him. He said “who’s that?” And we had a long talk I think bored him. And it’s then it hit me what had happened. As I’ve detailed in the past 4 pages of text, Tom Seaver meant a lot to me, even though in my experience as a Mets fan, he was really just a peripheral character. I saw him on the field a couple of times. He was talked about. He was an announcer for a few years, and he’s mostly been out of the spotlight for the past 15 years. Here I was, having a visceral, uncontrollable reaction to a childhood figure I never met. How the fuck were people who actually knew him going to keep it together?
They couldn’t do it. Gary and Ron did their best. Apparently, Keith’s mom also had dementia, and he lost it. There was a lot of silence during the game. A lot of big sighs from Keith. A lot of on air hurting. It was gut wrenching. I saw an Ed Kranepool quote that said, “this was a terrible ending to a horseshit year.” And it’s only September!
At this point, nearly a week later, it’s difficult to remember where I saw it. But here it is. The reason I’ve spent all this time spilling my guts about a guy I never met. Tom Seaver was a beacon. He wasn’t just someone who had a talent and pursued it. He was constantly trying to reinvent himself and pursue that passion, whether he was good at it or not. But even moreso, he was a positive influence on everyone around him. I’ve never heard a story about Seaver fighting with anyone. He wanted to be Rembrandt with a baseball. And he wanted to lift people up around him.
I feel isolated and alone. There’s not much I feel like I can control. I can get out my thoughts, I can be a good husband and a good father. I can explore my music. And I can use the latter to pull myself out of the former. That’s what Tom would tell me to do.
#new york mets#tom seaver#ralph kiner#brooklyn dodgers#new york yankees#baseball#41#sny#shea stadium#citifield#gary cohen#keith hernandez#ron darling#bob murphy#randy quaid#major league#mlb#mike piazza#howie rose#gary thorne
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Since I’m now obsessed with the concept of a Scottish widows themed tv series, may I suggest, a four season+ tv show following the life of one immortal black widow as she weaves her way out of one close call after another.
As the backdrop to her plot we will also see her interact with the stories of real-life widows (though some of the stories may be mildly inaccurate for the Drama), and so I present for your consideration:
Season 1- 1513 to 1528. The Scottish Widow- a daughter of the minor nobility of Midlothian who married an Edinburgh burgess- has lost her first husband at Flodden. The second husband she marries hastily in the aftermath of the battle to protect her business interests is... less convenient than he seems. Her peers include Margaret Crichton (cousin of the late James IV, and widow of another burgess) and the provost’s widow Janet Paterson. Meanwhile the dowager queen of Scots, Margaret Tudor, has her own problems and a certain earl is looking increasingly attractive. As civil unrest develops around 1516 we meet Agnes Stewart, Countess of Bothwell and her new husband Lord Hume (at least until his head ends up on a spike), Isabella Hoppringle the prioress of Coldstream and maybe later Euphemia Leslie of Elcho (not widows but too interesting to leave out- and brides of Christ who involve themselves in wars may be an interesting perspective), and others. The season ends with the Widow’s husband drowning when one of her ships sinks on its way back from Veere and yet she somehow seems to have made money, not lost it...? And now we see her making her way towards the kirk of St Giles in the dark of night while, thirty miles away, a long-lost son rides to his mother at Stirling...
Season 2- 1548-1554- the Rough Wooing is in full swing and the Scottish Widow is over the Forth, having snagged herself an earl and become Countess of Kinross ten years ago. Everyone is vaguely aware that she should at least be in her fifties by now but she doesn’t look a day older than she did in 1528. Fortunately most of her husband’s estates are in Angus and the Borders or she would have to bump into one particular rival much more frequently- Margaret Erskine, widow of Robert Douglas of Lochleven (he died at Pinkie), the favourite mistress of the late James V, and a formidable woman who is not a little miffed that- through some temporary witchcraft or madness- one of the late king’s familiars was granted the new earldom that she believed should have been hers. But any further squabbling is temporarily called to a halt by the order of the dowager queen Mary of Guise and the need to band together to while English ships are raiding the Tay and Forth.
A whole second season of intrigue follows, the Scottish Widow’s national loyalties and wedding vows are put under strain as both protection money and a handsome and seemingly malleable English lord catch her eye during negotiations. Meanwhile we are also introduced to women like Janet Beaton, lady of Branxholme and Buccleugh (widow of “Wicked Wat” Scott); Janet Stewart, Lady Fleming who is busy making a name for herself on the European stage due to the fall-out from her affair with Henri II of France; Marion Ogilvy, who was as good as married to the late, infamous, Cardinal Beaton; perhaps some interesting Englishwomen of the period; and others. The season ends with Mary of Guise becoming regent, while, with the winds of change in the air, the Scottish Widow again descends into the crypt at St Giles.
Season 3- 1567 to 1573/4- Obviously this season has to open at Kirk O’Field and it’s going to be a crazy season for the costume and pyrotechnics departments. At first though the Scottish Widow seems a different character- younger, timid, blushing modestly around men of the court, and hysterical in the face of all the political intrigue which she witnesses as a lady-in-waiting to Queen Mary for a short time. Turns out she’s now passing herself off as her own descendant, the sheltered daughter of the late Earl of Kinross, raised in seclusion on some estates in Angus since her father’s untimely death thirteen years before and, having been taken under the new queen’s wing, her lost lamb act is working quite well on both the men and women of court. But, as the political situation deteriorates, the Scottish Widow remembers that she is not only adept in courtly intrigue but also in war and trade. She also changes her supposed religion at least twice, and manages to get hitched three times in three different countries (we’re travelling to both Ireland and Norway in this, for that full, lavish Season 3 nonsense when you have loads of funding). She may also have a son of dubious paternity- she knows she cannot be a constant in his life so can only observe his upbringing from a distance. This season will not only feature Mary Queen of Scots, but also Mary Fleming (wife and widow of Maitland of Lethington), Agnes Keith (wife and widow of the Regent Moray), Annabella Murray (wife and widow of the Regent Mar), the aged Margaret Douglas (wife and widow of the Regent Lennox and mother of Darnley), Jean Gordon and Anna Throndsen (both sort-of wives but not yet widows of the Earl of Bothwell), Agnes Campbell (in between the death of her husband MacDonald of Dunyvaig and her marriage to Turlough Luineach O’Neill), maybe Jean Stewart Countess of Argyll (as a technical divorcee not a widow but still) and others of that most infamous period. I’m assuming the season would end somewhere around the end of the Lang Siege but I’m not sure yet- the most important point about Season 3 is that it be spectacularly lavish and dramatic, while the plotting is of secondary importance.
Season 4- 1590s. The Scottish Widow has an interesting role this season- she’s now the honoured wife of a prominent minister of the Reformed Kirk of Scotland. She also has a clutch of stepchildren in whom she outwardly tries to instil some discipline whilst secretly encouraging each of them into rebellion- this is not always a self-serving act on her part, and she is surprisingly popular with her stepdaughters. Her husband is not the king’s biggest fan, but is from a prominent Ayrshire family so mixes with the elites and his wife with him- the Scottish Widow has certainly come into contact with the scandalous Countess of Arran and the fabulous Anne of Denmark and others. She is also keeping an eye on her son’s development at the university- he seems destined for the Kirk too but secretly seems more suited to older style of politics (squabbling stabby nobles) than the new. But rather than hanging out in Edinburgh or the east coast, this season most of her time is spent in rural South Ayrshire. Technically her role is as the mistress of the manse but she seems to spend more time getting into unseemly squabbles with the neighbouring lairdly families over grazing rights, and debating over whether it technically counts as a crime if you requisitioned some cattle/smuggled goods in from Ireland in the name of the Lord (by which she means paying for one of her stepdaughters’ dowries). But looming over everything is the growing spectre of the witch-hunts- although the Scottish Widow is not about to get caught up in this as a victim. Instead when her husband dies suddenly and suspiciously, the blame falls on some of her poor neighbours with whom the Widow and her stepdaughters had been fighting. When an old woman might go to the stake because of her, we have to wonder- has the Widow gone too far this time?
And probably it would get cancelled after Season 4 because a) huge cliffhanger means cancellation and b) all of the Scottish nobility and a good portion of the merchant class were interrelated, so the Widow’s marriage pool is increasingly small. But could defo go on in some spin-off novels covering the 17th-20th centuries.
I’d like to point out that I don’t really find the murder of one’s spouse to be a happy/easy subject, no matter what gender the murderer is, though in this age of marriage for politics and convenience more than straightforward “love” it’s a bit different. And also if men get to have their Hannibals and Breaking Bads and Draculas and all sorts of worse horrors, then I think a massively over the top show where it’s heavily implied (but not really shown) that a sixteenth century noblewoman is doing away with some (not all) of her husbands is not really that controversial.
Anyway I’m no writer and have no imagination but it’s the sort of show we all deserve.
#rant#apologies I needed to have some fun wildly making shit up with care for organisation or clarity#even if it's a bit long-winded and ridiculous#And not at all easy to follow#Ramblings#Ah well if I'm going to get sued by a pensions company I might as well do the thing properly
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"Or we that we hate most of the male GoLion pilots because they were 20 something year-old men who spent about half the series ogling a teenage girl." Can you explain this?
In GoLion all the male pilots had a crush on Princess Fala (Allura) to varying degrees. I’m going to show you a few examples to get my point across.
There’s a scene in “Introducing Beautiful Honerva” where Fala dashes straight to castle control from her bath, clad only in a bath towel, to answer Raible’s (Coran’s) summons.
The male pilots all blatantly ogle her:
The rest of this is going behind a cut because of all the images. Also, there’s going to be some discourse and salt. So if you want to avoid that, consider yourself warned.
There’s a scene in “Friday the 13th” where the team is swimming in the lake surrounding the castle. Fala wears a tiny pink bikini.
Here is Kurogane and Seido’s (Lance and Hunk’s) reaction to the sight:
In “Altea’s Sister Planet” there’s a scene where Fala lets her pet mouse Platt climb into her flight suit to escape the cold.
Kurogane’s reaction:
In “The Prince Imperial’s Dark Love” Raible and the male pilots are rowing a boat around the lake while Fala waves to her people gathered around the shore. Kurogane asks Raible why they’re doing this:
All the pilot pilots dive into the water and race to pick Fala flowers in hopes of receiving a kiss.
All the male pilots also had crushes on Allura in Voltron. I also feel it’s important to note that in both shows these crushes largely fade into the background as the story progresses. However there are a few key differences between how this plays out in GoLion vs Voltron:
1) While Kogane (Keith) is also attracted to Fala, nothing becomes of it, with Kogane becoming more akin to a mentor/big brother figure to Fala. In Voltron this attraction eventually develops into a budding romance between Keith and Allura.
2) Allura’s age is never stated in Voltron. The narrative, however, treats her as around the same age as the grown male pilots. Also, changes to the time-line in Voltron vs GoLion suggest she could very likely be a few years older than Fala. Most people in the fandom headcanoned her as being around 18 to early 20s.
3)GoLion states Fala is 16 years-old. We’re never given ages for the male pilots but fans generally assume that they’re around 20-24 years-old, with the obvious exception of Suzuishi (Pidge).
Now, this is where we get to discussion of how some of the self-identified anti-fans who actually watched GoLion handled this and the double standards involved. Most of them did, to some degree, acknowledge that supposedly 20-something year-old dudes wanting to romance a 16 year-old was problematic. This stuff was one of the reasons many of them condemned Kallura, including VLD Kallura, as problematic trash. Never mind Keith and Allura are both teenagers in VLD; never mind they’re likely both adults in DoTU; never mind both of them are undeniably adults in Voltron Force and V3D. All versions of the pairing must be hated because of the GoLion dynamic.
However, many antis really liked Kogane, Kurogane, and Seido! They liked those characters in other Voltron retellings too, especially VLD (until they turned on the show, anyway)! You could argue that since all these characters were teenagers in VLD, it wouldn’t make sense to hate them because of what happened in GoLion. But remember, according to them we’re supposed to hate Kallura because of the age difference in GoLion. Also, according to their logic regarding Lotor, we can’t separate a character from their past incarnations.
This refusal to apply the same logic and standards to all the characters led to this weird state of acknowledging GoLion’s problematic aspects while at the same time shifting blame or downplaying them when convenient. I once saw a post from anti-fan blaming Kurogane’s behavior towards Fala on the writers, for example. Like, I don’t know how to tell you this, but none of these characters have any agency of their own. Literally everything they do is because a writer had them do it. Then these fans would talk about how glad they were the guys (or the writers) “learned better.”
There were also a lot of post from these people calling the grown male GoLion pilots “space dads” and Fala their adopted daughter. Ugh, yeah, it’s very obvious they didn’t see Fala as a daughter figure. Now, you could argue they eventually came to see her as a sister figure. Like I said, their crushes on her gradually faded away about halfway into the story. But why would people in their early 20s see a 16 year-old as a daughter to them?! lol
But, of course, these types of fans are always going to find reasons why the characters and ships like are okay even when, by their logic, they should be condemned as problematic trash. Meanwhile, characters and ships they don’t like will somehow, always, because be garbage no one should ever touch. So naturally they’re not going to apply a consist logic to everything or else their arguments would fall apart.
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Sea Witch (Shance MerMay 2019)
another drabble for my series Making Waves and Turning Tides. Series was inspired by @justshance‘s Mermay prompts for 2019, written for @shancemermay and fellow shance and mermaid fans in general.
Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, some plot, conspiracy, pining, fairy tale elements, little mermaid elements, AU
After having to watch that disgusting display of emotions, Lotor sank into the depths of the abyss, welcoming the feeling of darkness as well as the increasing pressure allowing his gills to breathe in and out gently. The wonderful air flowing through and cleaning out the salty air from above surface left him feeling more relaxed but he was still on edge hoping his plan would work.
Lotor continued to swim down, the light from the surface fading away until he was swallowed up by the void, circling around him with only his senses to guide him past other mers who lingered around the abyss, usually nowhere to go with other unsavory creatures who liked to lurk in the deep. Lotor located his cave quickly, quietly slipping into the vast cavern, easily avoiding the fluttering cuttlefish his mother liked to experiment on. He cool called out a greeting towards the witch, sliding against a rock and parking himself there, unfurling his tentacles to stretch as the witch, his mother Honerva, approached.
"Lotor have you spoken with the fish noble's son?" A raspy voice called from behind the seaweed curtain. Lotor hummed, meticulously cleaning a tentacle sucker, making sure no remnants of fish scales were stuck underneath before casually replying, "Yes I have. The silly little brat took the deal and he's now off frolicking on the dry lands with the king. We'll be ruling this pathetic ocean soon Mother. That damned Queen Allura was a fool to reject me as a potential mate and to cast you from her palace with your talents! A true disgrace for a monarch in my opinion." Lotor huffed as his mother oozed from the shadows, pulling back the weeds to expose her curling tentacles floating around her as she glided over to her son.
"Just remember the plan. Once that noble gets a taste of what he wants, you'll draw him back and make him hold up his part of the deal. We need that trident if we want to take over the ocean." She spoke, every word punctuated harshly through the murky water Lotor would twitch every time she spoke.
"And what happens if he refuses or doesn't get a hold of it? Lance is divine looks wise but he's not all that brilliant upstairs." Lotor mocked snickering at the image of the mer earlier, acting all flustered and squeamish when the two humans approached him.
"That I'll leave to you dear son. Consider it a gift for helping me this far. It's taken years to find the right someone to help take down the queen but now I have high hopes that we'll be taking over not one but two kingdoms if all goes well." Honerva spoke heading over to a cavern rock that held some valuable objects to her. It was piled with bones, some mers, some regular fish. She even had a collection of shark teeth in a jar as well las several jars of glowing substances, Lotor would rather not ask what those were about.
Honerva pulled out a dusty broken mirror, so old it was rotted in the handle area, bits of algae and mold growing on the reflective portion which Honerva wiped away, repeating a few mumbled phrases unintelligible until the mirror glowed and soon Lotor was watching Lance in the mirror.
"This way we'll keep an eye on the boy, measure his progress with the humans." Honerva stated watching as Lance was currently having a battle with a few humans over the proper way to wear what the humans called pants. Lotor furrowed his brows watching the spectacle as he leaned back, crossing his arms with impatience.
"How long will this take do you think?" He asked getting annoyed upon seeing the human king enter the room and calmly remediating the situation, hands lingering upon Lance's waist with Lance flushing immediately.
"Not long, humans are easily predictable and are often like the very fish they hunt and eat. Place something shiny and new in front of them, and they'll snatch up the bait pretty easily." Honerva explained smirking upon seeing the matching blushing expressions between Lance and the human king.
"Sometimes too easily." She grinned.
****
Lance wasn't normally materialistic, sure he was a mermaid, he hoarded a fair bit of treasure that many humans have dropped into the ocean, and he liked to keep his scales cleaner and shinier than his family or friends in the shoal, but compared to having a big, fluffy cushion all to himself, not having to share with his sisters, brothers, niece and nephew, he knew he could never go back to his old life.
"It's so big and bouncy! Beds are so cool!" He moaned, spreading his arms and legs over and over on the vast space, the long sleep shirt he was given rising up just a tad bit, exposing more and more of his upper thighs that had Shiro coughing and glancing away out of respect for his guest, and to keep himself in check.
"Yeah they are..also I just want you to know that you are welcome to stay here as long as you like even if you're finished recovering, I'm afraid to admit, but living on the far coast we don't see too many visitors." Shiro explained a small smile appearing on his face as Lance sat up tilting his head just so in that adorable curious way he's done all day.
"Do I get to use the bed still?" Lance asked which had Shiro chuckling. "Yes, you can use the bed as long as you want." Lance sighed happily flopping back over much to Shiro's amusement as Lance flipped over and snuggled into the sheets.
"Thank Goddess, I never want to leave ever again. You are my treasure now." Lance reached up patting a pillow as Shiro held back a giggle about to head out into the hall.
"If you need anything, I'm sure any of the kind people working here can attend to your needs, I'll be up as well as I'm not much of a sleeper, my rooms not too far down the hall. If you can't find someone, just come find me." Shiro stated turning to head out when Lance shot up, shouting "Wait!"
Shiro froze, unsure what was wrong until he suddenly found a sturdy presence pressing into his front side, arms wrapped around his middle and nearly hanging off of him(Lance still hadn't been able to get his legs to work properly like the humans, Shiro was currently in the process of finding the man a wheelchair to use in the meantime), his face pressed into Shiro's shirt, inhaling deeply as he spoke.
"Goodnight Shiro. I'm glad I met you, you were definetly worth it." Lance sighed happily unaware of the blushing flustered mess Shiro had become.
At first he wasn't sure what to say to something like that. It was definetly a little odd for a goodnight even if the man was very obviously appreciative of Shiro's hospitality, although it was expressed in such a strange way it had Shiro wanting to seek out answers to this puzzle.
But first, bed time.
Eventually, Shiro hugged him back, a little less tighter than Lance's but happy to return the affection in some way, whispering goodnight to Lance before gently coaxing him back to bed, maybe spending a bit too much time tucking him in but he reminded himself, or rather, tried to convince, that he was simply being extra cautious since the man was injured. They still haven't been able to get any solid information such as who he was or where he came from, but he was ultimately deemed not a threat and welcomed by the castle staff and guards alike.
All except for Keith that is.
Keith was friendly, in his own strange way. He obviously cared for others who mattered to him and Shiro's second-in-command for a reason.
His people skills..need work on the other hand.
Since Lance has been invited to the castle, Shiro had found the two bickering several times and Lance had only been there for four hours. Keith didn't trust strangers so easily and was incredibly suspicious of Lance, Shiro didn't really blame him either because Lance did some..very weird things. Like tonight's dinner fiasco.
As Shiro slipped away from Lance's bedroom, trying to get Lance's soft sleepy smile out of his head, he almost groaned at the memory of Lance's first dinner experience in the castle and how..not great it turned out. Apparently salad was too confusing of a dish to explain to Lance so he didn't eat it. The main course, some kind of lobster bisque, had insulted Lance, and in the end the only thing he liked was bread that he referred to as a beige sea sponge. Then Keith got involved...
"Shiro I need to talk to you." Shiro flinched, finding himself suddenly face to face with the very angry person he was thinking off.
"Good because I think we need to sign you up for more etiquette lessons." Shiro teased amused as Keith's face bloomed in embarrassment before he turned away huffing, with Shiro following.
"Lance started it, he was acting so weird! All I simply said was, the fork isn't to comb your hair and he yelled at me! He got mad because I wouldn't let him comb his hair with a fork Shiro, a fork, thats weird." Shiro sighed in response, understanding somewhat.
"Keith what you said was and I quote; 'Hey idiot, that's not how a fork works,' and glared at him until he stopped. I don't blame him for getting upset to be honest." Shiro shrugged it off, turning away towards his room when Keith jumped in front of him again.
"Still, how does someone his age not know how to use a fork? He looked like he had never seen one before Shiro! He's been looking at everything like that He got excited sitting in a chair Shiro. A chair. Don't you think that's a little suspicious at all? What if he's planning something?" Keith asked urgently to which Shiro sighed, aware that Keith tended to think towards the negative and conspiratorial side of things.
"Well, it's strange but I'm actually starting to guess the poor guy hit his head so hard he may have amnesia. It explain's why he can't remember how to use the most basic of human tasks. That or something really bad happened to him, we'll just have to find out and by doing that, he'll have to stay here, got it?" Shiro asked gently to which Keith nodded, obviously disgruntled with the idea.
"Fine but I don't like this." He griped trodding behind Shiro heading off towards his own room as Shiro just about closed his door, a few guards posted outside in case of any emergency.
"Okay MOM. Goodnight." Shiro held back a giggle when Keith made a face, waving him off as his version of 'goodnight' before Shiro shut his door getting ready for bed and a small part of him excited and intrigued to get to know his blue eyed guest.
#shance#shance mermay 2019#lance is in love with beds#partcularly big beds he doesnt have to share#unless he wa ssharing with shiro of course
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Shanie's Action Figure Update! 10/12/2021
NEW FIGS! (Lots of them)
Top Row: Keith Lee (Elite 82), Otis (Elite 87) Second Row: John Cena (Legends Series 10) Third Row: Bayley (Survivor Series 2021 Elite), Naomi (Series 78 Chase), Candice LeRae (Elite 87) Fourth Row: Layla (Basic 15) Fifth Row: Chyna & Trish Stratus (Championship Showdown Series 5), Sami Zayn (Basic 69) & Kevin Owens (Basic 78) Bottom Row: Marvel Legends Doctor Strange (No Way Home)
Not Pictured: Vince McMahon (Network Spotlight), Jon Snow (Game of Thrones Eaglemoss), Marvel Legends Quicksilver (Infinity Saga), Shayna Baszler (Fan Takeover),
Good LORD that's a lot of figures.
Update behind cut!
So I apparently overdid it on figures this month. OOPS.
Anyway, this is not going to be short I won't even lie about it this time. But I will try to cover everything.
Top Row:
Keith Lee. Not gonna lie, I know next to nothing about him other than I like his look. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t his look anymore. I dunno, I don’t watch RAW. Anyway, BASK IN HIS GLORY and all that.
OTIS! Hey, remember when he was awesome. Wasn’t that great. I miss this so much. Luckily they made one last figure of him like this. Having this one makes me feel less bad about missing out on the Tucker Elite. (The first Otis Elite had a matching Tucker which I was never able to score.) Loving that lunch box.
Second Row:
John Cena. This is my first Legends line figure and I got him for pennies. Not joking, this figure is rotting like old cabbage everywhere. I bought him on secondary for 3 bucks + shipping. I only wanted him for my Firefly Fun House setup. (He had this look in the FFH Match).
Third Row
Bayley is one that I literally bought for the belt. Not even joking, the SD Women’s belt is almost impossible to come by from Mattel outside of the glow one (more on that shortly). To buy one you literally have to buy the figures it comes with you can’t get it loose on secondary. Oh, sure, RAW titles all damn day. But Smackdown? Not a chance.
That said, I love this figure in hand. It’s gorgeous and I think I will make her my main Bayley figure. She’ll go perfect along side my Blue Sasha figure (who has my other Smackdown women’s belt).
Naomi? SHE GLOWS IN THE DARK! Her entire outfit, hair, coat and belt glows. Remember how I mentioned the glow belt? That’s the one. I now have two of them, one for the regular version and for the Glow In The Dark Chase. I was honestly happy with the regular version but the chase has been rotting on Ringside Collectibles for a year now and is very marked down so why the hell not? Can never have too much Naomi, I can put one on each shelf.
Candice is another beautiful figure but I promise you that vest isn’t staying on. She’ll never fit on my risers with those wings. Luckily she’s very pretty underneath as well. I really like this figure and, for a first time in line figure, pretty dang snazzy.
Fourth Row:
Layla. OMG I have wanted her for ages! She’s the only Layla figure they made (we will NOT discuss the Jakks one) and she’s really hard to come by. Got this one loose for a bargain. I’m stoked. Another woman towards my complete list.
Fifth Row
Chyna and Trish. I’ve shown the Chyna before but not THIS one. I bought the 2 pack at Wally World because it was cheaper than buying the Trish loose and my original Chyna from this set which I bought loose was misprinted. This saves me the trouble of fixing them up at a really good price. That Trish head is going on an elite though.
Sami and Kevin. Of course they’re here. These were just two more fills for my hopefully one day complete set. This was the final Sami figure but there’s a ton more Kev figs. Also, I bought some Elite arms to try and fix up the basics that are lacking the knuckle tats. Sadly, two pairs are junk but I didn’t pay much for them. It is what it is.
Bottom Row:
Doctor Strange. Gotta get at least one Non-WWE figure in here! Saw this at Walmart, picked him up. My ML shelf is severely lacking. I want a full MCU setup, but I doubt that will ever happen, so I at least want to get the major players. This figure fills a gap. I like him. Sadly, I don’t have a stand for him so he can’t go up yet.
Not Shown:
Not shown is the ML Infinity Saga Quicksilver which is still MOC. I really like his look in package, and I may just leave him that way. Again, it isn’t like I have a stand for him anyway. He can stay up top for now.
Jon Snow isn’t pictured but, as I’ve figured out, if I ever want a GoT display, it’s gonna have to be Eaglemoss. They don’t make them anymore though. Plus I’m still deciding if I like him or not. Will keep updated.
Vince McMahon Not shown. It’s Vince. I really only want the head from this figure to try and make an attitude era suited Vince. That’s all.
Finally, quick word about the missing Shayna figure. She offends me. Right out of the box she’s super loose. I can’t even get her arm to stay upright to do her pose which is entirely why I bought her. I ripped her spade-hands and belt off her. They will go to my original Shayna figure.
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Dang that's a lot of figures! I may have gone overboard a bit in the waning hours of my money. I have shame.
Anyway, this concludes another episode of action figure update. Stay tuned for next time which may or may not come after Black Friday's receivings/haul!
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House Cat - Pt. 2
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Pairing: Klance
Universe: Modern Earth/Fantasy
Rating: T (language)
Word Count: 3K+
Part: [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]
Summary: Werecats are hard to find outside of lab facilities now-a-days and Lance has had a suspicion that a small stray that comes by his house now and then is one when he noticed a new face around town around the same time. / Modern AU setting with werecats for fun and seriousness now and then. Klance heavy with Garrison Trio and maybe some more ships making an appearance later on.
A/N: So far, this has been well liked on AO3 and FF so I decided to post the full parts on here. Links to AO3 and FF are on my story blog @kal-i-ka-stories
I’m cold. Why is it cold?
Sometime during the night Lance had fallen asleep at his desk.
Why is the idiot still at his desk? I’m cold damn it!
The bed creaked as weight shifted around.
What the hell? Oh shit! It happened again!!
The growing pain in Lance’s neck and back started to pull him out of his sleep. He groaned as he forced his eyes open, unhappy to find that he fell asleep with the lights on. He sat up in his seat and stretched his back. Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked over. Sitting on his was bed was a boy about his age looking down at his hands and was shockingly stark naked. The familiar sight of the teen that Lance has seen on his route home for the past few weeks instantly made him fall back out of his seat and land on the floor, catching the attention of the mysterious boy.
“I knew it.” Lance mumbled as they stared at each other.
..::::..::::..::::..
What’s taking him so long? It’s almost 4:30.
Keith flipped through a comic magazine that he picked up at the street corner convenient shop he was standing at, using it as a cover. Every now and then he would glance down the street, hoping to see a certain teenage boy that’s been taking care of him for the past month.
Keith was part of the common family of werecats and has finally found a way to use his house cat appearance to his advantage since he broke out of the lab he was born in. Being on his own in the real world with no identification, no paperwork, and a basic education, life has been hard for the teen. Luckily, he was able found a job that would pay him under the table, feed him now and then, and let him stay in the building’s upstairs apartment, but it really wasn’t much – especially with winter coming. Keith hated the cold weather, his breed wasn’t one built for it. Even when taping plastic on his apartment’s windows and sleeping as a cat under his clothes and blanket, it still wasn’t warm enough.
That was when he remembered the time he was so desperate for food that he would change into a cat to run around the town to find food. That one house was warm and the boy, Lance he later found out, was always nice to him when he caught Keith spying nearby. Lance soon started to leave food out for him in the alley by his room. Then he would welcome Keith into his room and even let him sleep when he felt it was too cold.
And now here he is. Standing at a convenient shop, waiting for Lance to walk by so he can follow him to his house and get fed and be warm. He occasionally thought that what he was doing was weird, but it was better than risk sitting at Lance’s window all day and be spotted by the mangy street cats that thought they owned the alley.
Keith could hear people speaking down the usually quiet street and glanced over. At the end of the street were two familiar figures he would see walking with Lance talking to someone in an alley way.
Is he hiding?
Keith continued to look down at the comic in his hands, looking over at Lance’s friends whenever he would hear someone yell.
“Nugget! Please! Let me finish!” A familiar voice yelled out from the group. Lance was there and hiding in the alley for some reason. Or maybe he was standing behind there just to stand there? Over the course of time Keith learned that Lance was a weird one and just reached the point of brushing off everything he did.
Keith put the comic magazine back where he found it.
“You’re not going to buy it?” The shop keeper asked Keith, a hint of irritation in his voice from not making a sale.
“I thought it was a new addition, but I was wrong.” Keith explained. “How much for a soda?”
“$1.50.”
“Ok, I’ll take one.” Keith said as he dug two dollars out of his pocket.
The clerk took his money and handed him his drink and Keith went on his way while Lance and his friends were still distracted.
Keith walked through the maze of alley ways to Lance’s house, his stomach cramping and growling more and more on his way.
That old man needs to learn to feed people better. Who thinks a plate of fries is a meal?!
When he finally reached the alley to Lance’s window, Keith peeked into his bedroom to see if his food source was home or not. The room was dark and empty, with no sign of Lance’s bookbag in the room. He then quickly went to work with preparing for the night as he set his small duffle bag on the ground near some discarded boxes. He unzipped the bag and took off his red jacket and his shoes before stuffing them in the bag. He then sat down and started to focus on changing his form.
Transforming was never easy for Keith to handle. When he was stressed he could do it easily so he could get away from the situation, but at times like now when he wanted to shift just to shift, it always took him longer and a lot of concentration. This was a common thing for the house cat breed. But for Keith it was different. Every newborn of werecat would learn about their abilities from their parents, but in the labs, you are raised by scientist that poke and prod at you instead. Everything Keith knows about his abilities is what he learned from what the scientist and the other kids told him.
When Keith broke out of his stern concentration and opened his eyes, he found that his transformation worked and jumped out of his clothes. Cleaning up now was hard but doable in his cat form. He pulled over his clothes one by one to his bag and once it was all tucked in, he bit at the zipper and closed the bag and hid it away from any of the wondering alley cat inside a box. He jumped up on the boxes and trashcans to reach the window and peeked into the room. Still empty. He sat back on the trashcan and waited.
What the hell? Hurry up you idiot, I’m hungry!
The scent in the air began to change. Keith looked behind him and saw a group of familiar felines heading towards the alley.
Damn it! Not these animals!
Keith started to pace around the trashcan he was standing on, trying to find a place to hide. Then a light turned on near him, signaling him toward safety. Lance was finally in his room but the window wasn’t opened yet.
“Come on idiot! Open the damn window before I get beaten up again!” Keith called out, but it only came out in distressed meows because of his new form.
Keith looked behind him and saw that the group were coming closer to him, a few of them growling at him now. He growled back, trying to stand his ground as much as he could. Keith could fight, but not as well or as nasty as purebred tomcats. Another thing the lab kept him from knowing.
Keith then heard Lance’s window slide open and he instantly ran to jump through it. Jumping through the window was like entering a new world. One that was safe and most importantly to Keith, it was warm. Lance closed the window right away to keep the cold out. Once his paws hit the floor, Keith instantly sat down and started to groom himself to the smell of the tomcats off him.
“Sorry bud, it took me a bit longer to get back home today. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
Keith paused from grooming himself and looked back at Lance. Not at all. It’s not like I almost got my ass kicked again or anything.
“I bet you’re hungry.” Lance continued as he went over to sit by his bookbag.
Keith finished his grooming as Lance pull out a pet store bag and then dig through that, completely ignoring his ramblings about his day. He then stretched out his front legs and yawned – being hungry always made him angry and tired. He looked at the small potted wheat grass that Lance pulled out his bag and walked up to it.
He understands cats are carnivores, right? I know he’s stupid, but is he really that stupid? Keith thought to himself as he sniffed at the wheat grass, instantly disagreeing with Lance’s suggestion of eating it.
Lance laughed at Keith’s response to the grass. “Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t like it at first. You’re really picky with what you eat. Let me go drain this and I’ll feed you.”
Once alone, Keith looked around the room and soon zeroed in on Lance’s desk when he heard low toned meowing outside the window. He jumped on top of the desk and walked to the edge and leaned over to look out the window. Outside in the alley Keith could see the small group of dirty alley cats sniffing around the area and jumping up on some of the boxes and trashcans that he climbed on earlier. One stray began to sniff at his bag that was hidden away.
Get away from that! I don’t need fleas again! Keith growled as he stared down at the stray.
“Are you already wanting out?” Lance called out, making Keith pull away from the window and hurry over to Lance’s bed so he could eat. “Ok, sorry I asked. Here’s your food.” Lance said as he placed the small can of tuna on the bed before sitting down next to it.
Keith sniffed at the can of tuna before eating. Even though he really wasn’t a big fan of tuna, he figured it was better than starving or eating grass.
“You know, I had a suspicion that you were a werecat for the past couple of weeks now.” Lance spoke out.
What?! Keith froze for a moment, taking in the possibility that he was found out even though he tried his hardest to cover his tracks.
“But then I talked about it with my friends and can see how that would be a crazy thing to think.” Lance finished out, quickly calming Keith’s worries.
Keith went back to eating his food, letting Lance ramble on. Lance usually talked a lot whenever Keith would visit and he eventually just learned to tune him out and let him talk. Lance eventually reached out and started to scratch his head, another thing Keith would let him do even though he thought it was a bit degrading. But then Lance’s hand moved to his ears, that was the line. Keith let out a low growl from his throat, warning Lance to stop. He never liked having his ears touch, especially his cat ears. The feeling was foreign to him and he just didn’t like it.
“Sorry, forgot that you don’t like your ears touched,” Lance said as he backed off and took his hand off Keith all together, letting him finish his food in peace.
Now with a full stomach, Keith’s previous tired feeling took over and all he wanted now was to be warm so he could sleep. The blankets are too cold. He thought to himself as he looked the bed over, unable to find a place to sleep. He would usually crawl under Lance’s blankets and fall asleep, but today was one of the rare days that Lance made his bed that morning and getting under the covers would be harder to do. He then looked over at Lance. I already let him pet me so might as well. Keith then climbed on Lance’s lap and began to knead at one of his legs before curling up. All he could really remember before falling asleep was Lance scratching his back and rambling on about him being his family’s house cat.
Like that would ever happen.
..::::..::::..::::..
“I was right,” Lance said as he stared at Keith. “I was right,” Lance repeated with a slight chuckle in his voice. “I was right.” Lance then started to laugh more with his realization. Keith just looked at him in complete confusion.
Did he snap or something?
Lance’s laughing grew louder and louder as he continued to ramble on. “I was right. I was totally right. You’re a werecat. I knew it! I was freaking right! Wait till I tell the guys! They’re going to be so surprise that I was right about this.”
Shit!
Keith quickly jumped from the bed and tackled Lance to cover his mouth before he got any louder. “Shut up before you wake someone!” He snapped in a hushed tone as he pinned Lance to the floor. The two stared at each other for a bit. Lance then broke their eye contact to look down between them and his face started to turn a slight red. Keith looked down at Lance confused and then looked down himself and quickly jumped off and backed into the bed, grabbing the blanket off it and dragging it down to cover himself. “Don’t you dare say a word to anyone about this!”
“But I was right! Oh! By the way, the name’s Lance.” Lance said with his thousand watts smile as he pushed himself up to sit on the floor.
“I know. I’ve heard your mother scream it about a hundred times.” Keith said, unamused and a bit confused with the introduction. “How were you even able to suspect I was a werecat to begin with?”
Lance’s smile fell as he raised an eyebrow. “Really? You left my window open one morning.”
“I thought you would be too stupid to even notice you didn’t leave it open.” Keith was bit surprised that Lance caught onto such a tiny detail. But then again, that was a morning when he first turned human in his sleep and needed out right away before Lance woke up.
Lance frowned. “Did you know that you’re a lot nicer as a cat?”
“I wasn’t being nice. I was trying to stay warm and fed.” Survival was always number one of Keith’s mind. “You seem a lot calmer than other people would be in this situation.”
“Well, I do have a ton of siblings,” Lance said with a shrug. “Had to share a room and a bath a few times.” He then started to get up. “Anyway, what’s your name? Unless you just want me to keep calling you bud.”
“None of your business!” Keith snapped. “Just forget this ever happened! I was never here.”
“But you are here. Sitting in my room. Naked.” Lance smiled.
“Just shut up,” Keith snapped again, growing more frustrated with the situation.
“You want to borrow some pants? Or at least some underwear?”
“There’s a bag in the alley.” Keith said without really thinking.
“What,” Lance asked confused and seriously wondering what he meant.
Shit! Keith always had a bad habit of just blurting out the truth when he was frustrated. “My clothes are in a bag in the alley.” Keith was already feeling low, might as well come clean on the charade and feel even lower.
“You have clothes in the alley?” Lance asked, making sure what he heard was correct.
“Yes! Alright?! Can you just get them and quit asking questions?”
“Hold up!” Lance commanded as he held a finger up at Keith. “I think I deserve to understand what all is going on here. So, from what I can tell, you’ve been coming here to mooch off me and my kindness, and then just get dressed outside and up and leave like I’m some embarrassing one-night-stand?”
“Can I just have my clothes so I can leave?” Keith asked, his frustration boiling over to exhaustion.
“No, you cannot! Because Lance McClain is not some pushover that you can up and leave on!”
Out of all the people in this town, why did I stick to someone like him? Keith rubbed at the growing headache forming at the front of his head. “It’s amazing how you didn’t think like that when I was a cat, but now that I’m human, you think I’m committing a crime,” Keith said in a calm tone. With Lance still raising his voice now and then, Keith thought he might as well try to stay calm so that no one in the house would wake up and find them. “Now, can you please get my clothes for me before you wake someone up and the situation gets worse?”
Lance looked down at Keith from where he stood, still fuming over the fact that he was being used this whole time. But he soon realized that Keith had a point about making the situation worse and decided to let it go and calm down. “On one condition.” If Lance was going to be used again, he was at least going to get something out of it. “Tell me your name.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tell me your name and I’ll get your bag out of the alley.”
“Really? No money for you to stay quiet? No questions about what I am?” The request was a bit confusing and even though it was really a bad one, it still made Keith uncomfortable.
“If you’re coming here for food and shelter, I doubt you have enough money to pay for my silence and we already learn a lot about werecats in school so I don’t really have questions.”
“So, just my name?”
“Tell me your name and I’ll get your bag,” Lance reaffirmed.
“Keith.”
“Keith what,” Lance asked, hoping to get more out of his guest.
“Just Keith,” Keith replied, refusing to give him anymore.
Lance slouched his shoulders and pouted for a bit. “Fine. I’ll get your bag.” He then gave up, accepting his answer and keeping his promise.
Lance walked over to his window and pushed it open, the cold night air smacking him the face. He looked out into the alley and saw a few alley cats sleeping in the boxes that were discarded with the trash. He climbed out of his room through the window, stepping down on a conveniently placed milk crate that was under his window. He walked through the alley and looked around the junk that gathered between his and his neighbor’s home. Lance soon found a small black duffle bag that was tucked away inside a box that had a stray sleeping on top of it. He grabbed the bag and gently pulled it out from under the cat, causing it to wake up some but it was too tired to care about what Lance was doing.
Now with the bag, Lance made his way back to his window and stepped up on the milk crate. “Here you go,” he said as he threw the bag in his room.
“It stinks.” Keith called out from the room.
“Well, you had it hidden with trash and a cat was sleeping on it so what do you think it’ll smell like? Roses?” Lance said as he climbed back in his room, eventually rolling in head first. Lance rubbed his sore head as he sat up, quickly noticing that the bag was still where he threw it. He looked over at his bed and saw that Keith was still sitting there, now wrapped up in the blanket he pulled off the bed, just the top of his head and his eyes being visible. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“Close the window first!” Keith snapped from under the blanket. Lance looked at him confused but soon complied and got up from the floor and closed the window, blocking out the cold. Keith lowered the covers from his face and looked at Lance. “Leave so I can get dressed.”
“Why? I’ve already seen all of you.” Lance said with a smirk, feeling a little proud about what he said.
“Just leave!” Keith snapped. If he was going to leave, he was going to leave with what little dignity he had left.
“Ok fine I’ll go,” Lance said in defense as he started for the door. “Just let me know when you’re done.” He then walked out of his room, closing the door as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t wake anyone up. Right then, all that had just happened hit Lance at once and made him slide to the floor.
He’s a werecat! He’s been following me home and intentionally coming over here! He was naked on my bed! He tackled me naked! I told him so much when he was a cat! I called him cute! I slept with him!
So many realizations were running through Lance’s head that they all started to make him feel dizzy. How will he be able to handle himself if he saw Keith on the street now? Will Keith continue to come over to be fed? Is his life so tough that he might starve now if he stops coming over? Did he have a place to sleep tonight? What if Lance’s room has been his only safe place to sleep for the past few months? With the questions running through Lance’s head, he decided that he couldn’t just let Keith leave without knowing what will happen to him if he did. He had a sleeping bag in his closet that Keith could use that night. And he could just play it off to his parents that he was a friend that spent the night so he can eat breakfast with them in the morning. His parents were understanding people and Hunk would sometimes come over unannounced and stay the night.
Lance got up off the floor and took a deep breath before lightly knocked on his bedroom door. “Hey, are you done?” The room was silent. “I know you’re probably still upset about everything, but if you want you can still stay the night.” The room was still silent. “Hey, did you hear me?” Lance started to open the door, “I said you could stay the night if you wanted to.”
The room was empty and the window was left wide open.
#house cat fic#klance fic#klance#keith kogane#lance mcclain#voltron legendary defender#voltron#vld#my story#mine
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There are still a few things which bring a naive sense of shocked astonishment to me whenever I experience them -- a church service in which the rituals of Dark Age superstition are performed without any apparent sense of incongruity in the participants -- a fat Soviet bureaucrat pontificating about bourgeois decadence -- a radical singing the praises of Robert Heinlein. If I were sitting in a tube train and all the people opposite me were reading Mein Kampf with obvious enjoyment and approval it probably wouldn't disturb me much more than if they were reading Heinlein, Tolkein or Richard Adams. All this visionary fiction seems to me to have a great deal in common. Utopian fiction has been predominantly reactionary in one form or another (as well as being predominantly dull) since it began. Most of it warns the world of 'decadence' in its contemporaries and the alternatives are usually authoritarian and sweeping -- not to say simple-minded. A look at the books on sale to Cienfuegos customers shows the same old list of Lovecraft and Rand, Heinlein and Niven, beloved of so many people who would be horrified to be accused of subscribing to the Daily Telegraph or belonging to the Monday Club and yet are reading with every sign of satisfaction views by writers who would make Telegraph editorials look like the work of Bakunin and Monday Club members sound like spokesmen for the Paris Commune.
Some years ago I remember reading an article by John Pilgrim in Anarchy in which he claimed Robert Heinlein as a revolutionary leftist writer. As a result of this article I could not for years bring myself to buy another issue. I'd been confused in the past by listening to hardline Communists offering views that were somewhat at odds with their anti-authoritarian claims, but I'd never expected to hear similar things from anarchists. My experience of science fiction fans at the conventions which are held annually in a number of countries (mainly the US and England) had taught me that those who attended were reactionary (claiming to be 'apolitical' but somehow always happy to vote Tory and believe Colin Jordan to 'have a point'). I always assumed these were for one reason or another the exceptions among sf enthusiasts. Then the underground papers began to emerge and I found myself in sympathy with most of their attitudes -- but once again I saw the old arguments aired: Tolkein, C. S. Lewis, Frank Herbert, Isaac Asimov and the rest, bourgeois reactionaries to a man, Christian apologists, crypto-Stalinists, were being praised in IT, Frendz and Oz and everywhere else by people whose general political ideals I thought I shared. I started writing about what I thought was the implicit authoritarianism of these authors and as often as not found myself accused of being reactionary, elitist or at very best a spoilsport who couldn't enjoy good sf for its own sake. But here I am again at Stuart Christie's request, to present arguments which I have presented more than once before.
During the sixties, in common with many other periodicals, our New Worlds believed in revolution. Our emphasis was on fiction, the arts and sciences, because it was what we knew best. We attacked and were in turn attacked in the all-to-familiar rituals. Smiths refused to continue distributing the magazine unless we 'toned down' our contents. We refused. We were, they said, obscene, blasphemous, nihilistic etc., etc. The Daily Express attacked us. A Tory asked a question about us in the House of Commons -- why was public money (a small Arts Council grant) being spent on such filth. I recount all this not merely to establish what we were prepared to do to maintain our policies (we were eventually wiped out by Smiths and Menzies) but to point out that we were the only sf magazine to pursue what you might call a determinedly radical approach -- and sf buffs were the first to attack us with genuine vehemence. Our main serial running at the height of our troubles was called Bug Jack Barron written by Norman Spinrad, who had taken an active part in radical politics in the US and used his story to display the abuse of democracy and the media in America. He later went on to write a satirical sword-and-sorcery epic, The Iron Dream, intended to display the fascist elements inherent to the form. The author of this novel existed, as it were, in an alternate history to our own. His name was Adolf Hitler. The book was meant to point up the number of sf authors who were, in a sense, 'unsuccessful Hitlers'.
Many Americans came to use NW as a vehicle because they couldn't get their stories published in the US. Thomas M. Disch, John Sladek, Harvey Jacobs, Harlan Ellison and others published a good deal of their best and at the time most controversial work in NW -- and Heinlein fans actually attacked us for 'destroying' science fiction. Escapism this form might be, but it posed as a 'literature of ideas' and that, we contended, it wasn't -- unless The Green Berets was a profoundly philosophical movie.
Another example: in 1967 Judith Merril, a founder member of The Science Fiction Writers of America, an ex-Trotskyist turned libertarian, proposed that ' this Organisation would buy advertising space in the sf magazines condemning the war in Vietnam. I was around when this was proposed. A good number of members agreed with alacrity -- including English members like myself, John Brunner, Brian Aldiss, Robert Silverberg and Harry Harrison were keen, as were Harlan Ellison, James Blish and, to be fair, Frank Herbert and Larry Niven. But quite as many were outraged by the idea, saying that the SFWA 'shouldn't interfere in politics.' Okay, said Merril, then let's say 'The following members of the SFWA condemn American involvement in the Vietnam War etc.' Finally the sf magazines contained two ads -- one against the war and one in support of American involvement. Those in support included Poul Anderson, Robert Heinlein, Ann MaCaffrey, Daniel F. Galouye, Keith Laumer and as many other popular sf writers as were against the war. The interesting thing was that at the time many of the pro-US-involvement writers were (and by and large still are) the most popular sf writers in the English-speaking world, let alone Japan, the Soviet Union, France, Germany, Italy and Spain, where a good many sf readers think of themselves as radicals. One or two of these writers (British as well as American) are dear friends of mine who are personally kindly and courageous people of considerable integrity -- but their political statements (if not always, by any means, their actions) are stomach-turning! Most people have to be judged by their actions rather than their remarks, which are often surprisingly at odds. Writers, when they are writing, can only be judged on the substance of their work. The majority of the sf writers most popular with radicals are by and large crypto-fascists to a man and woman! There is Lovecraft, the misogynic racist; there is Heinlein, the authoritarian militarist; there is Ayn Rand, the rabid opponent of trade unionism and the left, who, like many a reactionary before her, sees the problems of the world as a failure by capitalists to assume the responsibilities of 'good leadership'; there is Tolkein and that group of middle-class Christian fantasists who constantly sing the praises of bourgeois virtues and whose villains are thinly disguised working class agitators -- fear of the Mob permeates their rural romances. To all these and more the working class is a mindless beast which must be controlled or it will savage the world (i.e. bourgeois security) -- the answer is always leadership, 'decency', paternalism (Heinlein in particularly strong on this), Christian values...
What can this stuff have in common with radicals of any persuasion? The simple answer is, perhaps, Romance. The dividing line between rightist Romance (Nazi insignia and myth etc.) and leftist Romance (insurgent cavalry etc.) is not always easy to determine. A stirring image is a stirring image and can be ,employed to raise all sorts of atavistic or infantile emotions in us. Escapist or 'genre' fiction appeals to these emotions. It does us no harm to escape from time to time but it can be dangerous to confuse simplified fiction with reality and that, of course, is what propaganda does.
The bandit hero -- the underdog rebel -- so frequently becomes the political tyrant; and we are perpetually astonished! Such figures appeal to our infantile selves -- what is harmful about them in real life is that they are usually immature, without self-discipline, frequently surviving on their 'charm'. Fiction lets them stay, like Zorro or Robin Hood, perpetually charming. In reality they become petulant, childish, relying on a mixture of threats and self-pitying pleading, like any baby. These are too often the revolutionary figures on whom we pin our hopes, to whom we sometimes commit our lives and whom we sometimes try to be; because we fail to distinguish fact from fiction. In reality it is too often the small, fanatical men with the faces and stance of neurotic clerks who come to power while the charismatic heroes, if they are lucky, die gloriously, leaving us to discover that while we have been following them, imitating them, a new Tsar has manipulated himself into the position of power and Terror has returned with a vengeance while we have been using all our energies living a romantic lie. Heroes betray us. By having them, in real life, we betray ourselves. The heroes of Heinlein and Ayn Rand are forever competent, forever right: they are oracles and protectors, magic parents (so long as we obey their rules). They are prepared to accept the responsibilities we would rather not bear. They are 'leaders'. Traditional sf is hero fiction on a huge scale, but it is only when it poses as a fiction of ideas that it becomes completely pernicious. At its most spectacular it gives us Charlie Manson and Scientology (invented by the sf writer Ron Hubbard and an authoritarian system to rival the Pope's). To enjoy it is one thing. To claim it as 'radical' is quite another. It is rather unimaginative; it is usually badly written; its characters are ciphers; its propaganda is simple-minded and conservative -- good old-fashioned opium which might be specifically designed for dealing with the potential revolutionary.
In a writer like Lovecraft a terror of sex often combines (or is confused for) a terror of the masses, the 'ugly' crowd. But this is so common to so much 'horror' fiction that it's hardly worth discussing. Lovecraft is morbid. His work equates to that negative romanticism found in much Nazi art. He was a confused anti-Semite and misanthrope, a promoter of anti-rationalist ideas about racial 'instinct' which have much in common with Mein Kampf. A dedicated supporter of 'Aryanism', a hater of women, he wound up marrying a Jewess (which might or might not have been a sign of hope -- we haven't her view of the matter)Lovecraft appeals to us primarily when we are ourselves feeling morbid. Apart from his offensively awful writing and a resultant inability to describe his horrors (leaving us to do the work -- the secret of his success -- we're all better writers than he is!) he is rarely as frightening, by implication, as most of the other highly popular writers whose concerns are not with 'meeping Things' but with idealised versions of society. It's not such a big step, for instance from Farnham's Freehold to Hitler's Lebensraum.
I must admit I'm not following a properly argued critical line. I'm arguing on the assumption that my readers are at least familiar with some of the books and authors I mention. I attack these books because they are the favourite reading of so many radicals. I attack the books not for their superficial fascination with quasi-medieval social systems (a la Frank Herbert). Fiction about kings and queens is not necessarily royalist fiction any more than fiction about anarchists is likely to be libertarian fiction. As a writer I have produced a good many fantastic romances in which kings and queens, lords and ladies, figure largely -- yet I am an avowed anti-monarchist. Catch 22 never seemed to me to be in favour of militarism. And just because many of Heinlein's characters are soldiers or ex-soldiers I don't automatically assume he must therefore be in favour of war. It depends what use you make of such characters in a story and what, in the final analysis, you are saying.
Jules Verne in The Masterless Man put some pretty decent sentiments in the mouth of Kaw-djer the anarchist and his best characters, like Captain Nemo, are embittered 'rebels' who have retreated from society. Even the aerial anarchists of The Angel of the Revolution by George Griffiths have something to be said for them, for all their inherent authoritarianism, but they are essentially romantic 'outlaws' and the views they express are not sophisticated even by the standards of the 1890s.
H.G. Wells was no more the 'father' of science fiction than Jules Verne. He inherited a tradition going back some thirty or forty years in the form he himself used and several centuries in the form of the Utopian romance. What was unusual about Wells, however, is that he was one of the first radicals of his time to take the trappings of the scientific romance and combine them with powerful and telling images to make Bunyanesque allegories like The Time Machine or The Invisible Man. Wells didn't have his characters talking socialism. He showed the results of capitalism, authoritarianism, superstition and other evils and because he was a far better writer than most of those who have ever written sf before or since he made his points with considerable clarity. Morris had been long-winded and backward-looking. Wells took the techniques of Kipling and preached his own brand of socialism. Until Wells -- the most talented, original and intelligent writer of his kind -- almost all sf had devoted itself to attacks on 'decadence' and military unpreparedness, urging our leaders to take a stronger moral line and our armies to re-equip and get better officers. By and large this was the tone of much of the sf which followed Wells, from Kipling's effective but reactionary With the Night Mail and As Easy as ABC (paternalistic aerial controllers whose rays pacify 'the mob') to stories by John Buchan, Michael Arlen, William Le Quex, E. Phillips Oppenheim and hundreds of others who predominantly were following Kipling in warning us of the dangers of socialism, mixed marriages, free love, anarchist plots, Zionist conspiracies, the yellow peril and so on and so on. Even Jack London wasn't what one might call an all-round libertarian any more than Wells was when he toyed with his ideas of an elite corps of 'samurai' who were actually not a great deal different to how Soviet Communist Party members saw themselves, or were described in official fiction and propaganda. The quasi-religious nature of sf (which I describe in a collection of pre-WWI sf Before Armageddon) was producing on the whole quasi-religious substitutes (a variety of authoritarian socialist and fascist theories). A few attacked the theories of the emerging dictators (Murray Constantine's Swastika Night, 1937, seemed to think Christianity could conquer Hitler but is otherwise a pretty incisive projection of Nazism several hundred years in the future). By and large the world we got in the thirties was the world the sf writers of the day hoped we would have -- 'strong leaders' reshaping nations. The reality of these hero-leaders was not, of course, entirely what had been visualised -- Nuremberg rallies and Strength Through Joy, perhaps -- but Kristellnacht and gas ovens seemed to go a bit too far.
At least the American pulp magazines like Amazing Stories and Thrilling Wonder Stories were not, by and large, offering us high-profile 'leadership': just the good old-fashioned mixture of implicit racialism/militarism/nationalism/paternalism carried a few hundred years into the future or a few million light years into space (E. E. Smith remains to this day one of the most popular writers of that era). John W. Campbell, who in the late thirties took over Astounding Science Fiction Stories and created what many believe to be a major revolution in the development of sf, was the chief creator of the school known to buffs as 'Golden Age' sf and written by the likes of Heinlein, Asimov and A.E. Van Vogt wild-eyed paternalists to a man, fierce anti-socialists, whose work reflected the deep-seated conservatism of the majority of their readers, who saw a Bolshevik menace in every union meeting. They believed, in common with authoritarians everywhere, that radicals wanted to take over old-fashioned political power, turn the world into a uniform mass of 'workers' with themselves (the radicals) as commissars. They offered us such visions, when they attempted any overt discussion of politics at all. They were about as left-wing as The National Enquirer or The Saturday Evening Post (where their stories occasionally were to appear). They were xenophobic, smug and confident that the capitalist system would flourish throughout the universe, though they were, of course, against dictators and the worst sort of exploiters (no longer Jews but often still 'aliens'). Rugged individualism was the most sophisticated political concept they could manage -- in the pulp tradition, the Code of the West became the Code of the Space Frontier, and a spaceship captain had to do what a spaceship captain had to do...
The war helped. It provided character types and a good deal of authoritative-sounding technological terms which could be applied to scientific hardware and social problems alike and sounded reassuringly 'expert'. Those chaps had the tone of Vietnam twenty years earlier. Indeed, it's often been shown that sf supplied a lot of the vocabulary and atmosphere for American military and space technology (a 'Waldo' handling machine is a name taken straight from a Heinlein story). Astounding became full of crew-cut wisecracking, cigar-chewing, competent guys (like Campbell's image of himself). But Campbell and his writers (and they considered themselves something of a unified team) were not producing Westerns. They claimed to be producing a fiction of ideas. These competent guys were suggesting how the world should be run. By the early fifties Astounding had turned by almost anyone's standard into a crypto-fascist deeply philistine magazine pretending to intellectualism and offering idealistic kids an 'alternative' that was, of course, no alternative at all. Through the fifties Campbell used his whole magazine as propaganda for the ideas he promoted in his editorials. His writers, by and large, were enthusiastic. Those who were not fell away from him, disturbed by his increasingly messianic disposition (Alfred Bester gives a good account of this). Over the years Campbell promoted the mystical, quasi-scientific Scientology (first proposed by one of his regular writers L. Ron Hubbard and aired for the first time in Astounding as 'Dianetics: The New Science of the Mind'), a perpetual motion machine known as the 'Dean Drive', a series of plans to ensure that the highways weren't 'abused', and dozens of other half-baked notions, all in the context of cold-war thinking. He also, when faced with the Watts riots of the mid-sixties, seriously proposed and went on to proposing that there were 'natural' slaves who were unhappy if freed. I sat on a panel with him in 1965, as he pointed out that the worker bee when unable to work dies of misery, that the moujiks when freed went to their masters and begged to be enslaved again, that the ideals of the anti-slavers who fought in the Civil War were merely expressions of self-interest and that the blacks were 'against' emancipation, which was fundamentally why they were indulging in 'leaderless' riots in the suburbs of Los Angeles! I was speechless (actually I said four words in all -- 'science-fiction' -- 'psychology' -- Jesus Christ!'- before I collapsed), leaving John Brunner to perform a cool demolition of Campbell's arguments, which left the editor calling on God in support of his views -- an experience rather more intense for me than watching Doctor Strangelove at the cinema.
Starship Troopers (serialised in Astounding as was most of Heinlein's fiction until the early sixties) was probably Heinlein's last 'straight' sf serial for Campbell before he began his 'serious' books such as Farnham's Freehold and Stranger in a Strange Land -- taking the simplified characters of genre fiction and producing some of the most ludicrously unlikely people ever to appear in print. In Starship Troopers we find a slightly rebellious cadet gradually learning that wars are inevitable, that the army is always right, that his duty is to obey the rules and protect the human race against the alien menace. It is pure debased Ford out of Kipling and it set the pattern for Heinlein's more ambitious paternalistic, xenophobic (but equally sentimental) stories which became for me steadily more hilarious until I realised with some surprise that people were taking them as seriously as they had taken, say, Atlas Shrugged a generation before -- in hundreds of thousands! That middle-America could regard such stuff as 'radical' was easy enough to understand. I kept finding that supporters of the Angry Brigade were enthusiastic about Heinlein, that people with whom I thought I shared libertarian principles were getting off on every paternalistic, bourgeois writer who had ever given me the creeps! I still can't fully understand it. Certainly I can't doubt the sincerity of their idealism. But how does it equate with their celebration of writers like Tolkein and Heinlein? The clue could be in the very vagueness of the prose, which allows for liberal interpretation; it could be that the ciphers they use instead of characters are capable of suggesting a wholly different meaning to certain readers. To me, their naive and emblematic reading of society is fundamentally misanthropic and therefore anti-libertarian. We are faced, once again, with quasi-religion, presented to us as radicalism. At best it is the philosophy of the Western applied to the complex social problems of the twentieth century -- it is Reaganism, it is John Wayne in Big John Maclean and The Green Berets, it is George Wallace and Joe McCarthy -- at its most refined it is William F. Buckley Jr., who, already a long way more sophisticated than Heinlein, is still pretty simple-minded.
Rugged individualism also goes hand in hand with a strong faith in paternalism -- albeit a tolerant and somewhat distant paternalism -- and many otherwise sharp-witted libertarians seem to see nothing in the morality of a John Wayne Western to conflict with their views. Heinlein's paternalism is at heart the same as Wayne's. In the final analysis it is a kind of easy-going militarism favoured by the veteran professional soldier -- the chain of command is complex -- many adult responsibilities can be left to that chain as long as broad, but firmly enforced, rules from 'high up' are adhered to. Heinlein is Eisenhower Man and his views seem to me to be more pernicious than ordinary infantile back-to-the-land Christian communism, with its mysticism and its hatred of technology. To be an anarchist, surely, is to reject authority but to accept self-discipline and community responsibility. To be a rugged individualist a la Heinlein and others is to be forever a child who must obey, charm and cajole to be tolerated by some benign, omniscient father: Rooster Coburn shuffling his feet in front of a judge he respects for his office (but not necessarily himself) in True Grit.
An anarchist is not a wild child, but a mature, realistic adult imposing laws upon the self and modifying them according to an experience of life, an interpretation of the world. A 'rebel', certainly, he or she does not assume 'rebellious charm' in order to placate authority (which is what the rebel heroes of all these genre stories do). There always comes the depressing point where Robin Hood doffs a respectful cap to King Richard, having clobbered the rival king. This sort of implicit paternalism is seen in high relief in the currently popular Star Wars series which also presents a somewhat disturbing anti-rationalism in its quasi-religious 'Force' which unites the Jedi Knights (are we back to Wellsian 'samurai' again?) and upon whose power they can draw, like some holy brotherhood, some band of Knights Templar. Star Wars is a pure example of the genre (in that it is a compendium of other people's ideas) in its implicit structure -- quasi-children, fighting for a paternalistic authority, win through in the end and stand bashfully before the princess while medals are placed around their necks.
Star Wars carries the paternalistic messages of almost all generic adventure fiction (may the Force never arrive on your doorstep at three o'clock in the morning) and has all the right characters. it raises 'instinct' above reason (a fundamental to Nazi doctrine) and promotes a kind of sentimental romanticism attractive to the young and idealistic while protective of existing institutions. It is the essence of a genre that it continues to promote certain implicit ideas even if the author is unconscious of them. In this case the audience also seems frequently unconscious of them.
It was Alfred Bester who first attracted me to science fiction. I'd read some fantasy and Edgar Rice Burroughs before that, but I thought that if The Stars My Destination (also called Tiger! Tiger!) was sf, then this was the fiction for me. It took me some years to realise that Bester was one of the few exceptions. At the ending of The Stars My Destination the self-educated, working class, 'scum of the spaceways', Gully Foyle, comes into possession of the substance known as PyrE, capable of detonating at a thought and probably destroying the solar system at very least. The plot has revolved around the attempts of various powerful people to get hold of the stuff. Foyle has it. Moral arguments or forceful persuasions are brought against him to make him give PyrE up to a 'responsible' agency. In the end he scatters the stuff to 'the mob' of the solar system. Here you are, he says, it's yours. Its your destiny. Do with it how you see fit.
This is one of the very, very few 'libertarian' sf novels I have ever read. If I hadn't read it, I very much doubt I should have read any more sf. It's a wonderful adventure story. It has a hero developing from a completely stupefied, illiterate hand on a spaceship to a brilliant and mature individual taking his revenge first on those who have harmed him and then gradually developing what you might call a 'political conscience.' I know of no other sf book which so thoroughly combines romance with an idealism almost wholly acceptable to me. It is probably significant that it enjoys a relatively small success compared to, say, Stranger in a Strange Land.
Leaving aside the very worthy but to my mind journalistic The Dispossessed by U.K. Le Guin, it is quite hard for me to find many other examples of sf books which, as it were, 'promote' libertarian ideas. M. John Harrison is an anarchist. His books are full of anarchists -- some of them very bizarre like the anarchist aesthetes of The Centauri Device. Typical of the New Worlds school he could be described as an existential anarchist. There is Brian Aldiss with his Barefoot in the Head vision of an LSD 'bombed' Europe almost totally liberated and developing bizarre new customs. There are J. G. Ballard's 'terminal ironies' such as The Atrocity Exhibition and Crash and so on, which have brought criticisms of 'nihilism' against him. There is Joanna Russ's marvellous The Female Man. So little sf has fundamental humanitarian values, let alone libertarian ideals, one is hard put to find other examples. My own taste, I suppose, is sometimes at odds with my political views. I admire Barrington J. Bayley, whose stories are often extremely abstract. One of his most enjoyable books recently published is The Soul of the Robot which discusses the nature of individual identity. Charles L. Harness is another favourite of mine. The Rose, in particular, lacks the simplifications of most sf, and The Paradox Men with its sense of the nature of Time, its thief hero, its ironic references to America Imperial, is highly entertaining. I also have a soft spot for C. M. Kornbluth who to my mind had a rather stronger political conscience than he allowed himself, so that his stories are sometimes confused as he tried to mesh middle-American ideas with his own radicalism. One of my favourites (though structurally it is a bit weak) is The Syndic (about a society where a rather benign Mafia is paramount). Fritz Leiber is probably the best of the older American sf writers for his prose-style, his wit and his humanity, as well as his abiding contempt for authoritarianism. His Gather, Darkness is one of the best sf books to relate political power to religious power (this was also serialised in Astounding during the forties . John Brunner, author of the CND marching song 'H-Bomb's Thunder', often writes from a distinctly socialist point of view. Harlan Ellison, who for some time had associations with a New York street gang and who has identified himself for many years with radicalism in the US, writes many short stories whose heroes have no truck with authority of any sort, though the conventions of the genre sometimes get in the way of the essential messages of his stories. This has to be true of most genre fiction. Ellison's best work is written outside the sf genre. Philip K. Dick, John Sladek, Thomas M.Disch, Joanna Russ...
To my mind one of the best examples of imaginative fiction to ear in England since the war is Maurice Richardson's The Exploits of Engelbrecht, written in the forties and recently republished by John Conquest (available from him at Compendium Books). These 'Chronicles of the Surrealist Sportman's Club' are superbly laconic pieces, concentrating more original invention into fewer words than almost any writer I can think of. They outshine, for me, almost anything else remotely like them, including the stories of Borges and other much admired imaginative writers. Richardson goes swiftly from one idea to the next, using a beautifully disciplined prose. He has the advantage of being a great ironist and I find that more palatable. Such a style can become one of the most convincing weapons in the literary arsenal and it often astonishes me how cleverly Kipling influenced generations of writers by disguising his authoritarian notions in that superb matter-of-fact, faintly ironic prose. Many writers, not necessarily of Kipling's views, have used it since. We find a debased version of it in the right-wing thrillers and sf novels of our own day. It is probably this 'tone' (employed to suggest the writer's basic decency and commonsense) which enables many people to accept ideas which, couched differently, would revolt them. Yet what Heinlein or Tolkein lack is any trace of real self-mockery. They are nature's urbane Tories. They'll put an arm round your shoulder and tell you their ideas are quite radical too, really; that they used to be fire-eaters in their youth; that there are different ways of achieving social change; that you must be realistic and pragmatic. Next time you pick up a Heinlein book think of the author as looking a bit like General Eisenhower or, if that image isn't immediate enough, some chap in early middleage, good-looking in a slightly soft way, with silver at the temples, a blue tie, a sober three-pieced suit, telling you with a quiet smile that Margaret Thatcher cares for individualism and opportunity above all things, as passionately in her way as you do in yours. And then you might have some idea of what you're actually about to read.
Michael Moorcock, May 1977, Ladbroke Grove
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"I didn't mean to hurt you"
[Send me a made-up fic title…]
[Major Season 4 spoilers below!]
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1000% self-indulgent angsty canon divergence AU starting right at the end of S4E6, where Lotor doesn’t show up, and Keith sacrifices himself, bringing down the shields just long enough for Matt and the other rebels to stop Haggar’s ritual. They stop the bomb from exploding, saving Voltron and countless planets, only to realize that Keith didn’t make it out. They regroup at the castle and hold a memorial service.
Late that night, Keith wakes up. It takes him some time to remember what happened–but then he’s instantly on alert and takes stock of the situation to try to figure out how he survived. He’s somewhere dark… a large space, where the sound echoes for ages. His body doesn’t want to listen to him, and there’s a voice in his head, like–
Red.
She apologizes, her emotions a torrent, and all Keith can glean from it is that she knew he was in danger and she did what she could to help him.
“Red! Calm down! What did you do?”
So she shows him. She shows him how she forced Voltron to separate, wresting control away from Lance to come for him, but it was already too late. There was nothing left of him… nothing but a faint trail of Quintessence. So Red took that Quintessence into herself, saving Keith by making him a part of her.
Days pass. The paladins mourn Keith, each in their own way. They all wonder whether they made him feel unwanted, unimportant–but Shiro and Lance most of all (Shiro knows Keith, and he knows that he never felt he belonged, and Lance just keeps replaying the six-paladin-five-lion conversation he had with Keith, wondering if that was part of what made Keith sacrifice himself.) His death drives a wedge between Voltron and the Blade of Marmora as the paladins look for someone else to blame. Matt’s cheery facade falters, and Pidge hears the full story of the memorial where Matt placed a false headstone for himself–how he lost dozens of friends in that battle. How he never wanted anyone else to feel that pain, least of all his sister.
Keith remains trapped in Red. He can communicate with the other lions, and with Lance, if he focuses really hard, but it’s only ever in fragments and vague images–and if he ever presents Lance with an image of Keith himself, Lance’s guilt and grief clouds the bond too much to get him to see that Keith isn’t dead. Not fully. It maddening, and Keith can’t stand to see his friends in so much pain. He begins to lose himself, his Quintessence mingling with Red’s, but he takes comfort in the knowledge that at least some part of him will still be around to look out for his friends.
Two months later, Operation Kuron hits the fan. The paladins find their Shiro, which dredges up old, half-healed hurts as they tell Shiro how Keith died. (Within Red, Keith begins to stir for the first time in a long while.)
That night, Lance drags a blanket and a box of tissues into Red’s cockpit and pours himself out, telling her everything he’s never said out loud–how much he misses Keith, how much he wishes he could go back and make things right. “He was hurting, Red. I know he was. I never meant to hurt him.”
I never meant to hurt you, either, Keith says. And there’s something about that moment, something about how desperately Lance is reaching out to Red, to the last bit of Keith any of them have, something about how much Keith aches to be able to talk to them, just one more time.
Whatever it is, Lance hears him.
There are lots of tears during this reunion–even more when, a few days later, Pidge, Hunk, and Matt finish adapting the castle’s hologram system to give Keith a visible form, if not a physical one. They talk, and there are apologies–so many apologies, no matter how many times Keith swears that none of them did anything wrong. He was just trying to protect the only family he ever had.
At first, it seems that’s how things are going to be from now on: Keith stuck inside Red, able to appear as a hologram, but destined to exist forever, watching his friends grow old. But there would be one last time skip–six months, maybe, or a year, or maybe two. Time for the team to look into Operation Kuron, time for Kuron/Ryou himself to pour out everything he knows to try to make some good come out of his existence–though of course, everyone, Keith most of all, assures him he deserves to exist independent of anything else.
They study the techniques Haggar used to clone Shiro, the techniques she used to create consciousness and implant memories. It’s all Quintessence-based, which makes their job easier: once they’ve grown a new body, genetically identical to Keith’s but lacking any semblance of a soul or independent consciousness, they implant it with Keith’s Quintessence, effectively giving him a second shot at life. They know they can’t count on doing the same thing again–it was nothing short of a miracle that Red got to Keith in time to gather up his Quintessence before it dissipated–but the fact that it worked this one time, the fact that they can hold Keith again and smother him in hugs as they tell him how much he is loved, that is more than enough.
#voltron#vld#keith kogane#voltron season 4#voltron spoilers#ask meme#title meme#whoops i hurt myself again#damn it#everything i touch turns to angst#but at least there's usually a happy ending?#ha#confused-bird#answers#fic ideas
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Flicker in Review
Niall Horan. The adorable little blonde leprechaun of One Direction fame has gone dark - both with hair choices and his lyricism. Since Flicker’s release on October 20rd, I’ve listened to it from start to finish at least twice. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. I am obsessed. Niall’s vocal performance and his honesty shine through this album. So here we go!
On the Loose - This is a grand song. Please Niall tell me, will it be a single at some point?? I need this on the radio waves ASAP Rocky. Despite being nothing like the girl depicted in the song (she seems like a reincarnation of Hall and Oates’s infamous “Maneater”), I still enjoy it’s playfulness. It’s upbeat and poppy, different than so many of the other songs on the album, and yet still maintains the core of Niall’s honest songwriting.
This Town - This song was released over a year before the album. Can we just process that for a minute? Niall, fresh off the heartbreaking One Direction breakup hiatus, became the first of the remaining four 1Ders to release a single, and it broke hearts across the world, setting us up for the heartbreak of his eventual album. ONE YEAR LATER, and we were still hearing “This Town” all over. It was a plaintive song about an old love, and people across the world (including myself) could connect with the lyrics: “And I wanna tell you everything, the words I never got to say the first time around. And I remember everything, from when we were the children playing in this fairground. Wish I was there with you now.” We all have the “lost love”, the one that got away, the reason we avoid the local grocery store when we’re home for the holidays, for fear that we’ll run into them again. The universality of this song made it an instant hit, and Niall really set the bar high for his fellow 1D brethren.
Seeing Blind - Look at little Niall breaking into the US country scene! I LOVE this song. And this song re-introduced me to Maren Morris, which has been a beautiful thing this fall (if you haven’t already, listen to her album HERO while driving down a backroad lined with fall leaves - specifically “Bummin’ Cigarettes”, “Space”, and “80’s Mercedes”. Okay, shameless plug for Maren over). “Seeing Blind” is a love song, but a unique love song. It avoids the cliches and overused lyrics typically reserved for romantic duets, and the country vibes bring a new dimension to Niall that we haven’t seen. Personally, I am counting down the days to the Country Music Awards when I can see these two perform together live. AND I’m praying that Niall is inspired by the CMAs and decides to grant us with another country song in the future (who knows, maybe Niall will be the next Keith Urban??).
Slow Hands - SONG OF THE YEAR 2017. This song took everyone by surprise, even the sweet cherub that is Niall Horan. My sister is still at college (oh, to be young again), and claims that this gets played at every single party with everyone screaming all the words at the top of their lungs. It’s a banger that no one expected, especially from the ballad-y vibes Niall was putting off. Despite the line “sweat dripping off my dirty laundry” seriously affecting my OCD (seriously, how dirty are your clothes is sweat is literally dripping off them?), the song is amazingly fun. The summer was filled with electronic dance tunes and massive collaborations, but Slow Hands stood out like a breath of fresh air (just don’t inhale too much, you might get a whiff of the dirty laundry).
Too Much To Ask - RIP MY HEART. This song cuts deep, and after the success of “Slow Hands”, it was smart of Niall to release it as a single. It reminded listeners of the essence of the album, of the overall ~aesthetic~ Niall was going for. While still being massively popular, it brought fans down from the hype of “Slow Hands” and prepared them mentally for the vulnerability of Flicker. The song itself is really well done, with the only stumbling point being that Niall rhymes “asking” with “ask”. But we’ll forgive him, because he’s so charming.
Paper Houses - My second favorite song on the album (keep reading to find out my first favorite!). Paper is a big recurring theme on Flicker. Not sure if Niall just loves a good old 8.5x11 OR if he’s implying the fragility of paper (especially when held to a flickering flame - idk, but I think I’m going to go with the latter). Either way, I love the lyricism in this song. It cuts deep. Halfway through the album, Niall just continues to rip my heart in two. He cruelly reminds us of all of the weak foundations we’ve built relationships on, hitting a little too close to home for many a listener. But the ballad is beautiful, and he does kind of encourage us with this line: “We held our cards, built them high. But way too close to the light. So turn your head and let us go. I learned to breathe on my own.” If Niall can learn to breathe on his own, so can I (I repeat to myself aggressively as I’m lying in bed at night thinking of all my paper houses).
Since We’re Alone - This song is very reminiscent of John Mayer. From the lyric content to the wavering guitar sound, I feel like Niall was inspired by Continuum-era John and I am hear for it.
Flicker - RIP MY HEART TAKE TWO. Oh God why??? I was just doing my normal nightly scroll through Twitter when lo and behold, I stumbled upon a video of Niall singing hauntingly in an echo chamber. And my heart exploded. It was my first introduction to “Flicker” and I was not emotionally prepared. When the album came out, I had convinced at least six people to listen to it from start to finish throughout the workday. All came back to me saying “Flicker” was the saddest/best song on the album. My best friend that she had to run to the bathroom at work after it came on to avoid crying in front of her coworkers. It conjures up something special for each person who listens to it, something haunting and personal and nostalgic. It’s quite possibly a perfect song, and it makes total sense why Niall named his album after the track. I get emotional every time I listen to it, and I’ve listened to it twice while writing this, so I’m going to stop now and eat some leftover Halloween candy.
Fire Away - Niall, have you heard “Fire Away” by Chris Stapleton? 10/10 recommend. Okay, I’ll proceed. @ALL MEN listen to this song when your girl is going through a rough patch. Niall’s jazz-inspired crooning has ruined me for all other men. All I want in life is for Niall Horan to ask me what’s wrong. But alas, it’s not meant to be. So leave me alone with my thoughts while I listen to this song again.
You And Me - Another one with John Mayer vibes. I like to imagine Niall singing this to me as we embark on a roadtrip together. I really like this one, because it’s honest. It embraces the messiness of relationships, and the difficult balance between relational success and personal success. It’s a thin line, but Niall toes it well.
On My Own - This song is my absolute favorite on the album. When listening to promos and sound bites on Niall’s Twitter ahead of the album release (very obsessively, I admit), I was convinced that the titular track “Flicker” or the slower “Paper Houses” were going to take the number one spot in my mind. I’m a sucker for sad, slow ballads about painful relationships. However, I was taken by surprise when I heard “On My Own”. Maybe it’s the nod to Irish trad music that reminds me of my vacation to Galway. Maybe it’s the exciting possibility of marrying my bed, a thought I have way too often. In reality, I know why I love this song - up to this point in my life, I have been perpetually single. I’ve spent years lamenting this relationship status. However, fairly recently, I have been embracing it. I may be single, but I’m also having the time of my life at the ripe young age of 23. I am understanding that there may indeed be a cosmic meaning behind my perpetual singleness, and who am I to argue with the universe? Niall’s album solidified this notion in my brain - he made it okay to be single, to embrace the alone times, to own up to just being on my own. Thanks, mate!
Mirrors - I feel… I feel like Niall was writing about me when he sang this??? And I feel like a majority of his fans can relate to these lyrics, and that again just proves the power behind his writing. I think one of my biggest surprises on this album was how powerful and touching Niall’s lyrics are. I expected strong songwriting from other members of 1D; I never counted Niall out, I just never really had any expectations. But Flicker has really solidified his skill with the quill, and I found myself connecting with his lyrics again and again.
The Tide - A perfect ending to an amazing album. Ending on an upbeat, yet still wistful note, Niall talks about avoiding the tide pulling him away from his love. But in my mind, the receding tide is really representing the finale of the album. Niall is singing about how he wants to stay, he doesn’t want the tide to take him away from his 13 perfectly crafted songs, from his two years dedicated to this album. As the song fades out, I imagine a beach with the tide rolling out, a peaceful scene after a heartbreaking 47 minutes.
But here’s hoping the tide is rolling back in soon. I’m already counting down the days to Niall’s sophomore album.
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I See Stars in Your Eyes (Must be Painful)
This is for the amazing @ackerchou who has graced us with Season 2 Voltron Actor!AU headcannons and I LOVED THEM ALL. I’m writing dancing Lance and kiddie Coran and Allura next. Watch me. Pls check them out because I wanna write a fic for all of them. And because she is awesome and made me feel better on a day I felt bad. There’s aren’t many spoilers for season 2 in this fic but just in case it is tagged. I hope you enjoy it!
x.V.x
Keith was slightly ashamed to admit that he hadn’t watched the original Voltron before trying out for a part in the new series. In fact, he sort of, kinda, had never even heard of Voltron before until his first day on set as a Galra stunt double. That is until there was a surprise visit from the original cast from the 80’s Voltron series.
Keith was only slightly mortified that he was the only one who didn’t know who they were.
Especially since he had thought that Akira was an older stunt double and he had nearly flipped Akira on his shoulder when the man surprised him.
Even after all this, Lance still wouldn’t stop laughing.
And of course he had a video of Keith nearly flipping over the original leader of Voltron who was at least twice Keith’s age (but damn did he still look good) and very well known in the world of Voltron. The video even had Keith apologizing over and over to an amused Akira, while everyone stood around staring.
Keith would remember this next time Lance wanted something.
Currently he was hanging back in the background while the old cast of Voltron took a tour of the new set to see how far Voltron had come. There was awe and admiration thrown left and right from both the cast of the 80s and the cast of the 2010s. It was a strange sight to see the different cast members who played the paladins together, each very different in their own way and yet so perfect for each character they played.
Shiro was actually probably the most star struck at the moment, which was ironic considering he was a legend on set and a God, whose beauty had yet to be destroyed by ugly pictures from the paparazzi. In fact, it was said that no such picture of Takashi Shirogane ever existed; no one had ever been able to capture even the slightest hint of ugliness when capturing a photograph of him, and tabloid magazines were left in tears of their failure. However, to see Shiro in such awe and amazement, stumbling over his words was something of amusement to everyone else.
At first Keith was shocked, more so at Shiro’s bright eyes and awe, and was amazed at seeing the older and usually more calm actor nervous and bumbling around like he had on many occasions. Was Shiro human, just like he was? Was there a fluke in his perfection?
“It’s really such an honor to meet you all.” Shiro was currently shaking hands with Sven for about ten minutes now, and while Keith thought that was strange, Sven seemed to be taking Shiro’s eagerness with such grace and stride. He didn’t even mind the fact that Shiro had been shaking his hand for so long and only smiled down at the new Black Paladin. “I was such a fan of the original Voltron and I watched every single episode probably a hundred times, I’m sure it was more but that’s probably weird to say? Oh, I guess you know now because I’ve said it out loud now. It’s such an honor to meet you all. Wait, I’ve already said that, haven’t I?”
Sven and the others laughed, while Keith’s eyes widened when he noticed the blush on Shiro’s face. Could he actually be nervous right now? Keith could feel his own heart racing and his body was vibrating with nerves and excitement at having the original paladins so close to him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. All of you.” Sven smiled, causing Shiro to begin to slow down in shaking hands with Sven. “We heard that Voltron was making a comeback and after the success of the first season, we just had to come meet the geniuses who made it all happen.” Just when Sven and everyone thought that his hand would be free of shaking from Shiro, Shiro had started right back up and shook Sven’s hand with even more determination than before.
“Really? You guys watched the first season?” Lance asked curiously, from where he had been joking with the Blue Paladins and taking selfies that were sure to go on Instagram and blow up the fandom.
“Of course. How could we not?” Akira laughed, from where he was leaning against a ship prop and Keith couldn’t help but wish he could look that cool. “Though, I hadn’t quite expected for Sven’s character to replace me as leader.” Akira teased while Sven rolled his eyes.
“You’re just jealous because the new producers finally realized that I was always meant to be the Black Paladin after the monstrosity that was you.” Sven bit back playfully. “Besides, do you see who is playing my character? He’s a godsend for this show.” Shiro had momentarily forgotten how to use any of his limbs and he ability to speak had suddenly all but vanished from his mind. Finally, he had let Sven’s hand go and Sven was quick to let go before shoving Akira forward, where Shiro was eager to shake his hand, despite already having shook Akira’s hand three times already.
Luckily Akira only beamed at the actor.
“Well, I must say that the new Black Paladin is quite the charmer and an extraordinary actor choice.” Akira praised with a waggle of his eyebrows. Shiro continued to shake hands but no one missed the big fat tears that rolled down his cheeks as he whispered, “I love you so much. I loved your show so much.”
“All of the actors and actresses chosen for the show were excellent choices.” The princess’ original actress said with a smile. “Allura here is very well known and the only actress who is beautiful, badass and sweet enough to play the princess. When I heard they were making a remake, I was rooting for you to be picked after that last movie you were in. You were stunning!” Allura beamed brightly at the praise and everyone laughed.
“And Lance here, is the only person who could make the Blue Paladin’s character so hilarious, but still making his character more than a 2D comedic relief. Like bro, that episode in season 2 was spot on to his character.” The Blue Paladin’s original character laughed while slapping Lance on the back. Lance stuck his tongue out before snapping another snapchat of the other actor.
“Of course, and to see Pidge’s character as revealed to not have been a guy was honestly genius.” The Green Paladin’s original actor laughed. “Though they’re still a gremlin.”
“How could we not have a Gremlin?” Pidge clutched at their chest dramatically.
“Pidge certainly never gets out to see the sun or hydrates enough.” Lance shrugged his shoulder, only to yelp when Pidge had hit him on the head with a prop. He pouted and rubbed his head. “Hey now, I’m supposed to be the sharp shooter here!”
“You’re pretty badass too man.” The Yellow Paladin’s character fist bumped Hunk. Hunk nodded.
Shiro was still crying.
“Thanks.”
“And you make funny jokes.” The two fist bumped again.
“Thanks.”
“Also, that food looks delicious.”
“It is.” Hunk nodded and the two bumped fists again with another nod. Shiro was still shaking Akira’s hands.
“Plus, that show with you and Lance fucking broke my heart.”
“It’s what I do best.” Hunk nodded.
“And then there’s you.” Akira smiled, still shaking Shiro’s hands who was still blubbering quietly about how blessed he was for having seen the original Voltron, and how he couldn’t believe that he was meeting his heroes in person right now, and was this real life?
Suddenly though, all eyes including Akira’s had turned to Keith, who had been silently blending into the corner wall. Unsure of the attention, Keith further tried to back himself into the corner as if that would make him invisible to his friends and the old cast of Voltron. However to his dismay, he could not summon the powers of the dark lords and force his entire being to be shielded from sight. Darn.
Keith swallowed thickly. He was a nobody. Would they be disappointed in him? Would they have wished that someone else had been casted for the Red Paladin? What if he wasn’t good enough to play the Red Paladin? What if he should have quit?
“I’ve never heard of you before. Have you been in any movies or tv shows?” Akira asked quietly. Keith couldn’t tell if the look on Akira’s face was positive or negative, and it made him even more nervous than before. He could feel his throat beginning to twitch, as if he had an itch that couldn’t be scratched.
“Ah, um, no.”
“None? Have you ever acted before?” Keith could read an emotion of surprise on Akira’s face but everything else was blank and everyone else was still staring at Keith. Staring with what felt like a hundred eyes that could see the disappointment within him.
“W-Well yes. B-But mostly in commercials, I-I guess?” Keith rubbed the back of his neck nervously, cursing the fact that his stutter had decided to make a comeback in front of the Voltron Legends. Of course. He had thought that he’d had his stutter under control, but apparently not. Keith felt his stomach lurch.
“Really? I suppose that’s why your name and face had been unfamiliar when announced.” Akira nodded, rubbing his chin with the only free hand that was available. Keith swallowed thickly, wishing that he could just melt into the floor right at this moment. It felt as if Akira was analyzing him under a microscope, and was only finding disappointment in his replacement. Keith was ashamed to think that he could never live up to Akira or the standards set by him.
“No. Keith’s not you.” Shiro finally spoke up, eyes dry and bright. He had finally let go of Akira’s hand with Akira realizing and was moving towards Keith. Keith felt his heart beginning to drop at Shiro’s words, but it wasn’t like he could just ignore the truth. Keith wasn’t like everyone else there. “He’s new and fresh into the acting world.” Shiro continued before stopping beside Keith whose gaze had dropped to the floor and his entire body was screaming anxiety.
“No.” Shiro smiled softly before clapping a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Keith is much better.” Keith’s neck snapped up so fast that he could hear a popping sound that probably wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t care at all. Instead he was staring at Shiro in awe, who winked back at him, before staring nervously at Akira. He was pleasantly surprised to see Akira was simply laughing in amusement at Shiro’s words, rather than being angry.
“I think I liked you better when you were ogling us.” Akira teased and while Shiro blushed, he didn’t move away from Keith.
“I’m serious. Keith might be new to the acting world, but he’s amazing. You could even say he was out of this world.” Shiro winked while everyone else groaned. “Right from his first audition, Keith blew us away.”
“Seriously.” Lance added with a grin. “Like this kid – this fucking kid with purple contacts reads lines with me, like he’s already been casted as the Red Paladin – I swear he knew the lines already…” Lance’s eyes narrowed on Keith, causing Keith’s face to flush. “And he was born for this part, and then on top of it he’s this black belt Karate guy who can kick your ass –”
“Lance, it’s not Karate.”
“And he does his own stunts. All of them.” Lance continued without even looking Keith’s way. “Like this badass mofo, went and broke his own ankle and when the doctor tells him to take off for rest, does he? Noooooo. He continues to work, with a broken ankle and he gets me coffee like everyday. And he laughs at my jokes.” Akira and the others blinked at Lance still smiling before Pidge spoke up.
“His jokes are shitty. Keith is perfect enough to laugh at them when we all tell him to stop.” Pidge sighed sadly while Keith couldn’t help but snicker.
“Sometimes he teaches the stunt crew how to do a fight move correctly.” Hunk added softly.
“And he always apologizes!” Lance teased. “Even when people say they are okay, he still apologizes.” Lance snickered while Keith rolled his eyes with a fake sigh. Akira and Sven laughed.
“The point is. Keith’s a pretty great guy and we’re lucky to have him.” Shiro said gently, causing Keith’s own face to heat up. “I’m glad some super award winning, snot-nose actor didn’t fill the role of the Red Paladin because we couldn’t imagine anyone else in the role.”
Akira raised his hands, still smiling. “Hey now, I was just going to say that even though I’ve never heard of Keith, he was amazing as the Red Paladin and I think his career is only just starting. You’ve got some real talent here and I’m proud to see you as my predecessor.” Akira beamed, as he placed a hand down on Keith’s shoulder too. Keith’s mouth suddenly went dry and his eyes were bright as they stared at Akira. He couldn’t help but repeat Shiro’s early question of: was this real life?
“Welcome aboard to Voltron. I’m happy to see you here.” Akira and the rest of the original cast of Voltron greeted Keith with nothing but bright smiles and happy claps on the back. And Keith was in too much of a warm daze to do much of anything. That is until Lance spoke up.
“Hey, who wants to see a video of SasuKeith singing along to his favorite K-Pop band?”
“Lance if you show that to anyone I will shove a Quiznak down your throat!”
#Voltron actor AU#actor!AU#voltron season 2#vld spoilers#ackerchou#this was so much fun to write#I am ashamed that I had to rewatch the old one#in order to write this bc I have never seen it#but Akira is a beautiful man#not as beautiful as Keith#or shiro#or Lance#or Hunk#or Pidge#or Allura#but still
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REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck ! TAGGED. by myself TAGGING. all y’all lovely people GIMME YOUR IN DEPTH CHARACTER HEADCANONS
BASICS.
FULL NAME : Takashi Shirogane ( 白銀隆 ) NICKNAME : Shiro AGE : 25 BIRTHDAY : October 21st ETHNIC GROUP : Japanese NATIONALITY : Japanese-American LANGUAGE / S : English, Japanese, bits of Altean and Galran SEXUAL ORIENTATION : asexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : aromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS : single HOME TOWN / AREA : Yokohama, Kanagawa Prefecture, Honshu, Japan CURRENT HOME : Castle of Lions PROFESSION : Black Paladin, leader of Team Voltron
PHYSICAL.
HAIR: deep black and cut short, the sides and back of his head shaved into an undercut. one long patch is left at the front, a forelock that hangs down over his forehead, reaching down just shy of his eyes. while this forelock used to be the same black as the rest of his hair, it’s now white, the colour lost under the severe stress he faced in Galra captivity. EYES : a dark grey in colour, sometimes looking from a distance to be a deep brown or black. long eyelashes. FACE : strong, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, long and straight nose, thick eyebrows. LIPS : average, perhaps leaning on the thin side – often quite dry or cracked. COMPLEXION : pale, but in a sickly, unnaturally caused kind of way, caused by complete lack of sunlight and possibly other events from his time in captivity. eyes often have dark circles beneath them. BLEMISHES : none SCARS : most notably, the lateral scar running across his nose, gained in a gladiator battle. the rest of his body is littered with scars, of all different varieties. large, jagged gashes, thin but deep lines, claw marks, sword slices, burns – just about anything you can think of. the placings are all very random, all clearly gained from battle, some overlapping. none of it is a pretty nor attractive sight, one of the many reasons he always has so much of his body covered. as well, there is a great deal of scarring on the bicep of his right arm, where skin meets the metal of his prosthetic. TATTOOS : none HEIGHT : 6′2″ WEIGHT : 182 lbs. BUILD : muscular and fit. chest and arms particularly toned, though his legs aren’t lacking in muscle mass. FEATURES : Galran cybernetic prosthetic arm. ALLERGIES : none, as far as he’s aware. USUAL HAIR STYLE : kind of just how he wakes up. the only hair he really has that can be styled is his forelock, which is generally left alone. USUAL FACE LOOK : clean-shaven. USUAL CLOTHING : not a lot of clothing variety in the middle of space. outside of his armour and his usual outfit though, he’d stick to long sleeves. lots of sweaters or shirts with long sleeves. his style always used to be very casual and comfortable.
PSYCHOLOGY.
FEAR / S : loss of those he cares for. isolation. captivity. the possibility that he might not be a good person, that he’s every bit a monster that the Galra are with everything he’s done and is capable of doing. loss of control. panic attacks. flashbacks. ASPIRATION / S : defeat Zarkon and free those who have been under his control or enslaved by him. keep the other paladins as innocent as he can/they should be at their ages. keep the other paladins alive and get them all home safely. find and save matt and commander holt. work with keith to develop and show him his capabilities. POSITIVE TRAITS : loyal | supportive | patient | reliable | practical | observant | compassionate NEGATIVE TRAITS : represses feelings | paranoid | pessimistic | solemn | on occasion can let emotion direct him to reckless action | self-sacrificing MBTI : DEFENDER ( ISFJ-A ) ZODIAC : libra TEMPEREMENT : melancholic SOUL TYPE / S : leader, helper, caregiver ANIMALS : sable VICE HABIT / S : jaw clenching, finger tapping, biting the inside of his lip/cheek FAITH : none GHOSTS ? : doesn’t believe AFTERLIFE ? : doesn’t believe REINCARNATION ? : doesn’t believe ALIENS ? : i mean. he wishes they weren’t real sometimes. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : vol…tron?? whatever being against zarkon is. EDUCATION LEVEL : high. graduated the Galaxy Garrison at the top of his class.
FAMILY.
FATHER : doesn’t really remember or know much about him MOTHER : deceased. SIBLINGS : Keith Kogane, adopted brother EXTENDED FAMILY : n/a. NAME MEANING / S : 隆 ( takashi ), meaning “noble, prosperous”; 白銀 ( shirogane ), meaning “silver” HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : n/a.
FAVORITES.
BOOK : a brief history of time by stephen hawking MOVIE : n/a – he needs to pick a new one because all his old favourites are sci-fi and those are a lot less fun after you’ve lived it. 5 SONGS : n/a ( forgive me, i’ve not settled on his favourite music yet ) DEITY : n/a HOLIDAY : new years MONTH : september SEASON : autumn PLACE : his home – the one where he grew up and lived with his mom after moving from japan when he was very young. the home where he watched Keith grow up. WEATHER : cool, but not cold. sunny, but with clouds in the sky and the chance of rain. SOUND : wind blowing past leaves in the trees SCENT / S : rain, freshly dried laundry, mom’s tonkatsu TASTE / S : subtle flavours, most things fruity FEEL / S : anything that isn’t metal. soft, anything that screams ‘comfort’ ANIMAL / S : wolves NUMBER : 11 – his favourite time is 11:11 COLORS : he’s been rethinking these, since a lot of his favourites now remind him of not so pleasant things these days.
EXTRA.
TALENTS : leadership, knowing the right thing to say in most circumstances, combat – particularly hand to hand, picking up on and memorizing patterns, improvising, observation – particularly of people and their behaviours, ticks, etc. BAD AT : handling his own emotions, seeing his own value TURN ONS : n/a TURN OFFS : n/a HOBBIES : exercising, sparring, reading, distracting himself from his thoughts and anxieties, avoiding sleep, spending time with those he cares about, cuddling TROPES : Broken Ace, Awesome by Analysis, Team Dad, I Am a Monster, 100% Adoration Rating, Not So Above it All QUOTES : “ If you get too worried about what could go wrong, you might miss a chance to do something great. ” “ Patience yields focus. ”
MUN QUESTIONS.
Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : uhhh i mean, since he’s a very main character, i get quite a bit of what i want from canon ngl. buuuut i’d love some full backstory of his life prior to kerberos, plus everything that happened while the galra had him prisoner. Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : oh god, idk. music with deep, heavy lyrics, but ultimately with optimistic messages? Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : okay so i’m a big red vs. blue fan, and i was seeing all kinds of people talking on tumblr about how shiro is so much like wash, who happens to be my favourite character and my biggest, oldest muse. finally caved and watch voltron, and… shiro ticks like, all of my boxes for a favourite character + character i can relate to on some levels. he’s complex, he’s broken, he struggles a lot internally but holds it together and helps others, he’s team dad, he’s self-sacrificing… i could go on, i really could. Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4 : oh. uhm. see the answer above. i heard he was v much like wash except more chill and much less jaded, and also who could escape hearing him referred to as ‘space dad’. i’m weak for space/team dads. Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : holy shit nothing. i love him and his strengths and his flaws. Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : mm… we both believe more in others than ourselves, both v supportive of those we care about… there may be more??? but those stick out to me the most. Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : “Please stop playing on my fears” basically Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : everyone??? i love getting to explore the older brother/dad dynamic he has with the rest of the paladins, and how it differs between the four. also love the dynamic between enemies, particularly those who put him on edge, or worse. Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : honestly i tend to wake up with inspiration bc he’s become my strongest muse, right up there with wash, buuuuut rewatching canon, having intense discussions about canon or AUs, and doing character analysis all give me an extra boost of inspiration, for sure. Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : like half the fucking day, holy shit. granted, my focus is shit and it’s not the only thing i’ve been doing. multitasking.
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Screw it, I’m gonna answer ALL THE QUESTIONS from the music ask meme.
1. A song you’re ashamed of liking: I don’t have one?? I don’t think??
2. Favourite lyrics: Kun multaan vanhan erämaan / Ajattoman, lohduttavan / Palaan kerran uudestaan / Älä jää mua suremaan (From “Lohtu”, composed by Tuomas Holopainen of Nightwish and performed by various Finnish artists.)
Rough translation: When I return once again to the timeless, comforting earth of the ancient wilderness, do not mourn me.
3. Favourite band/artist: If I have to pick one, I’ll always say My Chemical Romance, because they’re so important to me and I’ve never loved a band like I love them. Other faves include Children of Bodom, Warmen, Billy Talent, Korpiklaani, Ensiferum, Norther, Nightwish, Lady Gaga, Marina and the Diamonds, Blackpink, 2NE1, Dalriada, Iron Maiden, and AC/DC.
4. Top 5 Favourite songs at this moment:
Spark by Warmen
Luontoni by Korpiklaani
As If It’s Your Last by Blackpink
Roppongi Rumble by Warmen
Somebody’s Watching Me by Warmen
Can you tell I fucking love Warmen...?
5. Latest song that made you smile: Not only did Alestorm’s “Fucked With An Anchor” make me smile, it made me laugh my ass off the first time I heard it. I know, I’m easily amused.
6. An overrated band: No offense but... the first thing that comes to mind is Turisas... Or, well, I don’t like using the word “overrated” -- it’s been used to drag my music taste too often, go figure -- and it’s more like I don’t listen to them much myself but I see (or used to see) so much hype for them and I'm kinda like “what”.
7. An overrated song: ????????????
8. Latest song that made you cry: Oh, gods, it’s been so long. Several years, probably. Uhh ... “Make It Stop (September’s Children)” by Rise Against?
9. Artist/band that saved your life: My Chemical Romance. Yep, I’m one of those. ;) Later on, Michael Jackson did the same.
10. If you could see any band/artist live, who would it be: Oh, jeez, that’s a loaded question. My first instinct is to see MCR one more time (preferably with them playing all my favourites from all their albums); second I thought of artists who are retired or dead (Michael Jackson, for example); third I thought of all my faves who I haven’t seen yet; and finally I thought of how thirsty I am to see Bodom again. I don’t know what I’d pick aaaaaaa
11. What song/album/band/artist always brings back memories for you: “Who Made Who” by AC/DC brings back childhood memories because my Dad’s a huge AC/DC fan and that was the song my siblings and I liked best. Evanescence’s album The Open Door and MCR’s The Black Parade bring back memories of winter break in 8th grade when my sister and I hung out in my room drawing “manga” and listening to them on repeat. We grew apart fast after that, and it took years to reconnect properly, so it’s bittersweet. “Nemo” by Nightwish reminds me of road trips with the family, and a specific place we’d stop on our way to Lake Huron....
12. Saddest song you know: “Nothing to Lose” or “Saint Veronika” by Billy Talent, probably.
13. Favourite song to sing in the shower: Whatever’s stuck in my head at the given time.
14. If you played an instrument in grade school, what was it: I played the flute and the fact that there have been so many popular text posts about how flutists are assholes makes me sad.
15. What song would you like to have your first dance to at your wedding: Not to, like, totally copy my old coworker or anything, but... “The Only Exception” by Paramore. Which would be bad because I’d be a crying mess. :^D
16. 5 Songs to have sex to: I’m a sex-repulsed asexual, my dudes.
17. One band you’d have get back together/bring back from the dead: *chants* M-C-R! M-C-R! M-C-R!
18. You’re forced to listen to only one album for the rest of your life, what album is it: Billy Talent’s Dead Silence.
19. A song that gets you through shit: The previously mentioned “Make It Stop (September’s Children)” is pretty good for that. So is “One Step At A Time” by Four Year Strong. I also listen to “Deep Inside” by Norther and “Roundtrip to Hell and Back” and “Towards Dead End” by Children of Bodom a lot when I’m having a shitty time, though I wouldn’t say they help me through anything. It’s more like they help vent the shitty feelings.
20. A song to shut everything out: “Hate Crew Deathroll” by Children of Bodom or “The Invaluable Darkness” by Dimmu Borgir.
21. A song that’s a joke between you and your friends: We’ve all been memelords since time immemorial, so any songs that are jokes between us are also jokes on the internet. The good ol’ Trololol Song and the Lonely Island’s “I Just Had Sex” come to mind. :P OH! “I Don’t Love You” by MCR is a joke between me and my sister. I don’t know how it happened, but we were like “I don’t love you, like I loved, that cake~” We, along with a mutual friend, also have an inside joke concerning “U Can’t Touch This” by MC Hammer and Slade Minions from the Teen Titans video game, but that’s a bit too involved to get into, haha.
22. A song to jam out to at 4am: “Drink” by Alestorm -- WE ARE HERE TO DRINK YOUR BEER AND STEAL YOUR RUM AT THE POINT OF A GUN!!
23. A song that punches you in the gut every single time: “Roundtrip to Hell and Back” by Children of Bodom and “Deep Inside” by Norther
24. A song that calms you down: Maybe “Fear and Loathing” and “Happy” by Marina and the Diamonds.
25. A song that makes you feel alive: “Runaway” by Avril Lavigne, “The Edge of Glory” by Lady Gaga, “This Is Home” by blink-182
26. If you could get any lyrics tattooed, which would you choose: Voitonlaulut soi ainiaan! (from “Victory Song” by Ensiferum) and I am not afraid to keep on living (from “Famous Last Words” by MCR).
27. What band/artist would you get your children addicted to at an early age: AC/DC (the legacy must continue), metal in general, Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga...
28. Can you play any instruments, if so, which: Flute, as mentioned above. Tried to learn guitar and bass at different times, but nothing came of it. O:^)
29. If you could be a member of any band for one show, who would it be: Probably Korpiklaani, they always seem like they’re having a blast.
30. CDs or Vinyls: CDs, but vinyls are cool, too.
31. 25 15 songs to play at your funeral: Gods, I’m gonna go full Edgelord with this, alright--
“Hell’s Bells” by AC/DC
“Highway to Hell” by AC/DC
“Haunt” by Bastille
“Tumman Virran Taa” by Ensiferum
“Last Breath” by Ensiferum
“The Longest Journey (Heathen Throne Part II)” by Ensiferum
“HIStory” by Michael Jackson
“Under the Water by The Pretty Reckless
“Turn Loose The Mermaids” by Nightwish
“Those Were The Days” by Leningrad Cowboys
“Thnks fr th Mmrs” by Fall Out Boy
“The Light Behind Your Eyes” by My Chemical Romance
“Meadows of Heaven” by Nightwish
“Lohtu” by various Finnish artists
“Kill All Your Friends” by My Chemical Romance
I guess some of those are acceptable/more on point/at least partly serious.
32. What are some song titles that you love?
“It’s Not A Fashion Statement, It’s A Fucking Deathwish” by My Chemical Romance
“LoBodomy” by Children of Bodom, because haha, that’s pretty clever
“Done With Everything, Die For Nothing” by Children of Bodom
“Fxxk Boys Get Money” by FEMM
“Ghost Ship of Cannibal Rats” by Billy Talent
“Indie Sux, Hardline Sux, Emo Sux, You Suck” by Anti-Flag
“All Men Are Pigs” by Studio Killers
“I Never Told You What I Do For A Living” by My Chemical Romance
“If You Want Peace... Prepare For War” by Children of Bodom
I think I’ll stop there so this doesn’t get even longer than it’s already gonna be. Shout-out to all the Children of Bodom songs with “Bodom” in the title, though.
33. If your life ended today, what song would you choose to represent it? Maybe “Into the Cave We Wander” by Gerard Way & Ray Toro.
34. Can you give me a 10 song playlist on ____. I’m picking “Songs That Are Titled What The Band/Artist Is Called (Or Close Enough)” to fill in that blank.
Children of Bodom by Children of Bodom
Arkona by Arkona
Dimmu Borgir by Dimmu Borgir
Wa$$up by Wa$$up
Norther by Norther
Korpiklaani by Korpiklaani
I’m Poppy by That Poppy
The Evil That Warmen Do by Warmen
Iron Maiden by Iron Maiden
Alestorm by Alestorm
35. A heart-wrenching song: “Chasing the Sun” by Billy Talent -- I can’t even tell you why exactly I find it heart-wrenching, like yes, it’s bittersweet and beautiful and the lyrics are kind of sad, but I don’t relate to it personally, but it hits the heart anyway??
36. A band/artist you’re proud of: Billy Talent.
37. A song that has a lot of meaning to you: “Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back” by My Chemical Romance
38. A song that reminds you of school: “Nights I Can’t Remember, Friends I’ll Never Forget” by Toby Keith. Despite the fact that I’ve never experienced anything like what’s described in the song, the general vibe makes me super nostalgic for my high school friends and by extension high school.
39. A song not sung in your native language: “BOOMBAYAH” by Blackpink (yay, KPop!)
40. An instrumental song: “Jupiter, Bringer of Jollity” from Gustav Holst’s “The Planets”.
41. A classical song: I can’t think of anything off the top of my head and I’m not gonna go look that shit up coz it’s already past my bedtime and I wanna finish this in one go.
42. A song with no percussion: “Romance” by My Chemical Romance (I think?)
43. Something you’ve heard performed live: “Run to the Hills” by Iron Maiden
44. Something you’d give ANYTHING to hear performed live: By MCR: This is the Best Day Ever; Our Lady Of Sorrows; Kill All Your Friends; My Way Home Is Through You; Heaven Help Us; Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back; Summertime; Ambulance; Gun; The World Is Ugly; The Light Behind Your Eyes; Kiss The Ring; Surrender The Night; Desolation Row; Fake Your Death; and Desert Song.
I’d also love to see Billy Talent perform “Louder Than The DJ” and “Big Red Gun” live, I bet it’d be awesome. Also, seeing some of Bodom’s cover songs would be neat.
45. A song from a band/artist that’s from your town/city/state/province: I mean, I live in a town in the region of Uusimaa and Espoo is in Uusimaa soooo... Children of Bodom? :D
46. A song made suddenly precious because of a special someone: I honestly don’t know how to answer this one.
47. A song made suddenly painful because of someone special: “The Zephyr Song” by Red Hot Chili Peppers was painful for the longest time because of the first person who broke my heart. :I
48. A song that demands lip syncing and a makeshift microphone: "Manicure” by Lady Gaga, “Party All The Time” by Children of Bodom, “Somebody’s Watching Me” by Warmen, and “Bang Bang” by Jessie J. featuring Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj just to name a few.
49. A song from a band/artist you met/know: Uhh, I’ve met two members of Arkona, so let’s go with “Yarlio”.
50. A song that you would rock at karaoke: “Piano Man” by Billy Joel
51. A song you can’t help but dance to: I don’t dance... :I
52. A song that makes you want to dance on a table: See previous answer.
53. Your 10 song stripper playlist: No.
54. Favourite Disney song: Probably “Son of Man” by Phil Collins (from Tarzan, and that whole soundtrack is awesome okay), though of course “I’ll Make A Man Out Of You” is one hell of a jam, as well.
55. A song that starts with the first letter of your name: “Jouni Jouni” by Korpiklaani
56. A song from an artist still alive: “Hajdutanc” by Dalriada
57. A song from an artist who’s dead: “En Oo Käyny Irlannissa” by Juice Leskinen. It’s one of my favourite songs but I can’t find it anywhere on the internet, nor have I been able to find the album it’s on. The only person I know who has a copy is my dad, and he lives in Canada. Fuck.
58. A song you love by an artist/band you hate: “Save Rock n’ Roll” by Fall Out Boy. Okay, I don’t hate Fall Out Boy (that much anymore) and I never had a good reason for hating them anyway but. Yeah.
59. A song you love with a colour in the title: “9 Shades of Red” by Hedley
60. A song you love with a number in the title: “1741 (The Battle of Cartagena)” by Alestorm
61. A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about: Everything by Stam1na, but especially “Muistipalapelit”, which is unfortunate because it’s also the only Stam1na song I like.
62. A song that needs to be played LOUD: “Päät Pois Tai Hirteen” by Korpiklaani; “Hate Crew Deathroll” and pretty much everything else by Children of Bodom; anything by Dimmu Borgir; all of Alestorm and Korpiklaani’s booze songs; “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” by My Chemical Romance; “Red Flag”, “Man Alive!”, “Surprise Surprise”, “Viking Death March”, “Devil in a Midnight Mass”, “Louder Than The DJ”, and “Big Red Gun” by Billy Talent.
63. A song that makes you think about life: “Song of Myself” by Nightwish
64. 15 Songs that get stuck in your head easily:
“Don’t U Wait No More” by Red Velvet
“Deus In Absentia” by Ghost
“Ruuminmultaa” by Korpiklaani
“Shinjidai no Saga” (Donquixote Doflamingo’s character song)
“Wooden Pints” by Korpiklaani
“Hello Bitches” by CL
“NiNaNo” by Minzy
“Hello Kitty” by Avril Lavigne
“Children of the Smith” by Blind Guardian (it’s so good I don’t even care)
“Bad Boy Good Man” by Tape Five
“Lying Delilah” by Warmen
“My Oh My” by Girls’ Generation
“Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots
“Drink” by Alestorm
“Whistle” by Blackpink
65. A song that you think everyone should listen to: "Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back” by MCR is definitely one, but I’ll never suggest it to anyone coz it means so much to me I can’t handle people hating it. :’) I feel like there are a few more that I listen to and go Everyone should hear this!!!! but I can’t for the life of me remember what they are...
66. A song that makes you want to fall in love: “Summertime” by My Chemical Romance
67. A song that makes you think about ‘him/her’: “Things I’ll Never Say” by Avril Lavigne; “You” and “Heart” by The Pretty Reckless; “Stand Up and Run” by Billy Talent; “Sight of the Sun” by Fun.
68. A song that you remember from your childhood: “Lintumies” by Freud, Marx, Engels & Jung
69. A song that reminds you of you: “Wrecking Ball” by Mother Mother; “World Behind My Wall” by Tokio Hotel; “Strange” by Tokio Hotel feat. Kerli; “Waiting for a Friend” by The Pretty Reckless; “They All Blame Me” by Warmen; “Terrible Things” by April Smith and the Great Picture Show; “The Escapist” by Nightwish; “Song of Myself” by Nightwish; “Rootless” by Marina and the Diamonds; and many more.
70. Okay what’s the real answer to number 1? The closest I can think of is “All About That Bass” by Meghan Trainor, and even that isn’t something I’m ashamed of, like who gives a shit? I’ve got Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana on my mp3 player, I’ve got the Tales From Moominvalley theme song, the Teen Titans theme in both English and Japanese, loads of One Piece music from OSTs to character songs, I’ve got the Pussycat Dolls and Hilary Duff and Babymetal, Avril Lavigne’s been one of my faves since her first single dropped, hell, I just re-downloaded the entire Trololol Song completely unironically. Why should I be ashamed? I like it. :P
#long post under cut#about me#music ask meme#I think I got them all#if not who cares#idk if anyone would even read this xD
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