#or directly relate to memories/forgetting/nostalgia
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pre wish king battle portraits bc im Normal about him
#isat#in stars and time#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#isat au#pre wish king#isat the king#king isat#isat king#the king isat#hes so <3 to me#the names of his attacks would all be really flowery and poetic#or directly relate to memories/forgetting/nostalgia#his weapons would probably be gauntlets#it never happens au
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i once had a job at a small produce market, it was the longest i worked somewhere, like three years - we had about five cashier employees usually only ever working in twos especially in the evenings for the closing shift. it was half indoors, half outside, on a not very busy road. one of the door ways outside was in front of the registers and when you stood behind one of them you stared directly out the door into the parking lot and onto the street. so it was always freezing inside and we all wore gloves while we worked(the worst in the winter). also this was not a super popular spot, it had been on the decline for a while, so it was usually always slow but even more so at night, so we would not have a single customer sometimes for two hours or more. and let me tell you on quiet nights with no customers in and your one co worker is not to be seen i would just stare out this door into the black abyss and wait and wait. me and a co worker (i say A, but i worked w the same guy every time which just added to the delirium) would just stand there throwing stuff at each other, receipt balls, fruit, pens, whatever. and like every shift seemed to blend into one and everytime that nighttime lug rolled around i would feel like i had never left i constantly mentioned that this is what purgatory must feel like - you’re just stuck in something and for maybe a minute you gain consciousness of like oh wait! i’m still here! waiting… and then suddenly it’s the next day and it may as well be yesterday or tomorrow. a tortuous purgatory, i’m sure most people can relate to this working in retail/service but weirdly though … sometimes i miss it? the general aimless mind numbing loop of standing in a dark creepy realm always made me feel like i was on some other plane. idk sometimes it’s good to feel weird and feel out of everything.
anyway that was years ago the place has since long closed down, it sat empty for years, buT recently a new produce/fish market has taken over the location and just out of curiosity i went in to see how they changed things (bc the previous owners were a mess, low key cutting some extreme corners) and walking into that place felt like i had never left! now, it was way cleaner and way better organized, way more people but to me and whether it’s from nostalgia of the place or just the general weirdness i had, i still felt like that place could be purgatory. i wouldn’t be surprised if i died and i found myself behind a register checking out peoples produce and telling people how to check if a watermelon is good again, none the wise that i had ever left. or staring out a dark door way just waiting to see car lights or waiting forever for just 15 more minutes to pass so it’s time to lock up.
there’s probably a term for this idk but it reminds me of those dreams you can have where in you’re back in high school or college and you try to think - what if i woke up and it was five years ago or what if i woke up and i was freshman in high school again - would you be able to slip back into the routine? would the muscle memory of everything just fall right back into place? like a schedule i had everyday for a year would i still be able to remember it if i woke up back then? idk these thoughts plague me and if i woke up back in the produce market i would definitely black out and forget everything i’ve ever done since.
i’m already living in a time loop it’s called being employed
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Lasting Friendships: Why They Matter More Than Ever
Friendships can be some of the most rewarding aspects of life, bringing joy and support through thick and thin. As time goes by, we often find ourselves reflecting on those special connections that shape our experiences. A recent heartfelt piece from George Magazine, titled “Lasting Friendship,” beautifully captures the essence of these bonds, illustrating how they endure despite the challenges of time and distance.
A Message From the Heart
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Time has a strange way of reminding us of the past, and often, when we reconnect, it feels as though no time has passed at all. The message resonates with anyone who has experienced the warm embrace of friendship. It reminds us that while life may take us in different directions, our bonds can remain strong.
The Beauty of Connection
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Have you ever felt that rush of comfort when you have a friend to lean on? This article emphasizes how those invaluable friendships can uplift us no matter where we find ourselves on our journey through life.
What Lies Ahead?
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In Summary
Friendship is a timeless treasure that adds color and depth to our lives. The piece from George Magazine speaks to this universal truth, highlighting why it’s essential to nurture the relationships that lift us up. For a chance to explore this beautiful article and more, don’t forget to visit George Magazine and grab your free copy today! Connect with your past, and embrace the joy of cherished friendships.
#free copy#free magazines#george magazine#subscriptions#first copy free#books#free subscription#economy#literature#currently reading#friendships
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Neverland, the role of “nostalgia” in Kiuzna’s narrative, and the 02 quartet’s unusual immunity to it
In general, the 02 quartet (my shorthand for the four human characters introduced in 02 who weren’t in Adventure, namely Daisuke, Ken, Miyako, and Iori) have a position in Kizuna that you can call “shockingly favorable” in that they’re kept safely out of the most dangerous parts of the plot in ways the others aren’t. This especially sticks out when we get to the Eosmon incident reaching its climax, when Takeru and Hikari are placed in the same situation as their Adventure seniors, despite the movie and its surrounding media generally portraying them closer in line with the others in the 02 group than the Adventure group.
To be a bit blunt about it, the obvious main reason the story is set up this way is meta -- a lot of the climax’s effectiveness depends on the audience getting sensory impact via recognizing things from the original series (including 02 as well; how convenient it is that all of the international Chosen are in the positions 02 fans would recognize!), and so it’s obvious that said climax would evoke imagery related to the series that was Digimon Adventure, while the 02 quartet would be treated extra-kindly by the narrative due to the need to give them compensatory action screentime given certain real-life events. But just because the originating reason is meta doesn’t mean there isn’t also a story reason for it, especially considering the relevance of 02′s themes in Kizuna’s narrative, and the surrounding circumstances regarding both series.
Before we get into anything else, the first thing that needs to be established is that Menoa and Eosmon’s lure is pretty obviously depicted as working on a subconscious level. This is why everyone else in the narrative agrees that what they did is “kidnapping”, despite her insistence that she’s just doing what they wanted. While they can’t not admit to having moments of weakness, nevertheless, it’s likely that most if not all of the people Menoa kidnapped consciously knew better and had learned better lessons than this a long time ago; if Menoa had consciously offered Neverland to her victims, most of them would have probably said no! But as Daisuke said back in 02 episode 49 -- when he witnessed his own friends being subjected to something similar at the hands of BelialVamdemon -- there’s no sin in having feelings of worries or troubles (and, by extension, irrational feelings in general), and Eosmon’s abilities and Neverland happen to be able to directly target them. In fact, we ourselves got to witness this internal conflict when Menoa made her direct offer to Taichi and Yamato to join Neverland; they briefly considered it because of the circumstances, but were snapped out of it quickly with Agumon and Gabumon’s intervention, and were really, really mad at themselves for considering it shortly after.
We saw the process of how Ayaka became one of the kidnapping victims at the beginning of the movie -- it happened right after she complained that she wasn’t fond of the idea of becoming an adult at this point. So it does lend some truth to the idea that Menoa’s working off something with these cases, and that Eosmon did specifically target people who had those wishes to some degree. Moreover, note carefully how this kidnapping (and some others in the movie) is portrayed; Eosmon doesn’t actually emerge from the device in question (it’s obvious that nobody notices the giant butterfly monster), and the victim’s consciousness and partner are whisked away thanks to being caught by the device camera. In Ayaka’s case, because her phone was sitting on the table, pointed at her. The fact that this is not how the kidnappings are portrayed all the way to the end of the movie is a very significant point.
So let’s talk about Neverland and its construction. The whole thing is based on Menoa’s own very, very warped view of what “happiness” is. This means that Neverland is only an “ideal world” or “utopia” in a way that makes sense to her -- and once you learn the full extent of her backstory, it becomes apparent how she came to the mentality she did, and, more pertinently, how she ended up projecting that on everyone else. Hence, how she came to decide that she knew better and should decide for everyone, because she thinks she gets the right to decide on everyone’s happiness based on her own experiences. (She doesn’t.)
The way Neverland is constructed is that everyone has “their own places” -- their own individual islands that recreate “memories” of everyone being able to be together with their partner, forever. So in other words, it’s not just that everyone’s being turned into children; it’s that they’re being kept in an eternal loop of their best memory and unable to “move forward”.
Here are three very significant parts about this, which will be important to keep in mind as we go deeper into this analysis:
Menoa’s view of this utopia requires people to be separated -- for all she claims this is a utopia where people can play together, she discourages fraternizing and encourages everyone to stay only with their own partners. This is, presumably, to lessen complications with said memories, because what might be one person’s best memory might not be for another, and also because she thinks one person being alone with their partner is happiness enough in itself. As we’ll be seeing later, this is very much not the case for everyone.
A lot of these memories in Neverland -- and Menoa’s own mentality, as we eventually find out -- are heavily dependent on the concept of rose-colored nostalgia, or, that is to say, conveniently omitting or forgetting about all of the bad things about one’s past in order to portray it as such a wonderful thing that nobody should ever move on from. And in the end, that probably applies to real-life childhood in general, too; as much as it’s so often put on a pedestal for being a time when “everything was simpler”, you can also easily argue that it wasn’t actually all sunshine and roses, it’s just that the process of forgetting things or the grass-is-greener phenomenon makes you conveniently forget all of the bad things and frustration that came with it too.
Because the concept of needing to stay in the past forever is based on the idea that it’s preferable to growing up, these memories thus have a strong premise of “things you cannot do anymore” -- something that, bar going back to the past and never moving from it, you will never get back or be able to sufficiently recreate. It’s unlikely the islands themselves are one-to-one recreating their specific memories in the way they happened, but rather seemingly presenting them the opportunity to “constantly do over” things they want to recreate or do again, as long as those things are associated with a happy thing that isn’t as easily accessible anymore.
In the case of the five Adventure group members who were brought into Neverland, these “memories” that they’re seen trapped in are, of course, from Digimon Adventure.
It is of course foolhardy to pretend that the main reason for this wasn’t meta, since, of course, there’s a huge point to be made here about the relationship between Adventure and nostalgia, plus the simple fact that this is what we’re most likely to recognize and be nostalgic for, but it also makes sense within the context of the narrative; Menoa has an extreme bias towards the happiness of her childhood revolving almost entirely around her partner, and, of course, Adventure was when these kids first had their most formative meetings with said partners. (This is also probably the in-story explanation for why the other international Chosen from 02 appear at or close to their 02 selves; beyond the meta reason of it being a way to make them recognizable when we only knew them for such a short time, it also approximates when they met their own partners.)
On top of that, Adventure was not all sunshine and roses for its cast! After all, there was a ton of drama and emotional trauma and stress from running away from enemies trying to kill them, or trying to save the universe, and glossing over that is also foolhardy -- but this is also where our concept of “rose-colored” comes in. Menoa’s not offering the kids the entire adventure; she’s offering them a small slice of the moments when they were able to be happy, the moments that made them want to stay in the Digital World for a whole 110 years’ worth of time at the end of Adventure -- she’s basically offering them that very thing they wanted and had ripped away from them at the end of Adventure when the time dilation phenomenon stopped. Take out all of the bad stuff, and suddenly, the events of Adventure seem outright romantic -- it’s the whole school of thought that fueled Adventure’s inspirations of Two Years’ Vacation and Stand By Me, in which a lot of stressful stuff happened and yet you still can’t help but think there was something magical and romantic about it. (I cannot emphasize enough how much of a cultural impact Stand By Me in particular had in Japan, to the point where it’s considered the epitome example of a “coming of age story” and “summer adventure”.)
Let’s take a closer look at what’s on each of the Adventure kids’ personal islands:
Hikari is probably the one in the most unusual position among this group, since she didn’t join until over the halfway point, and the first arc she got involved in revolved around everyone wanting her and Tailmon dead. Thus, the memory we get to see her involved in is the Numemon factory in Adventure episode 49. Although this was in the middle of the Dark Masters arc (and, uniquely, very close to the end of the series where a lot of stress was involved), due to the limited amount of time she got to be in the Digital World, this was the one time she got to do something really cool and awesome and impressive for herself that had nothing to do with the others (again: see how the requirements for these islands require not fraternizing with friends and being isolated).
One thing that the Adventure kids got to do that wasn’t in play in 02 was that there were a lot of “romantic experiences”, involving strange adventures and things like phone boxes on the beach, and, very significantly, “Digimon friends” -- ones that the kids made a huge note of bonding with over the course of the series. This contributes to a certain sense of whimsy that was involved in this adventure that the 02 quartet ultimately never ended up getting to foster, because the lack of the time dilation phenomenon meant that they spent much less time in the Digital World overall (more on this in a bit), and once the time dilation stopped, it meant that these kinds of “whimsical” experiences were ones the Adventure group was permanently torn away from once that adventure ended. That dropping of the time dilation phenomenon not only cut that initial adventure short, it also prevented any future ones like it from ever happening again.
And, of course, this is an extremely rose-colored memory, because shortly afterwards, the Numemon ended up all sacrificing themselves for Hikari. But hey, when you’re in a space that can eternally loop good memories forever, everything’s fine as long as we conveniently never get to that part, right?
From this point on, you’ll notice that all of the memories that show up on these islands are from before the halfway point of the series, because after that, things started getting increasingly pear-shaped and much more difficult to disentangle the stress, mental breakdowns, and witnessing of deaths from. (Hikari’s probably wouldn’t have come from such a late incident if she hadn’t joined the party so late.) Although there still were looming threats around the horizon in the beginning of Adventure, they weren’t always immediately apparent to the kids at every turn, and in fact, the beginning of the series involved more of a “well, we’re in this situation and probably need to get home somehow” aura than it did a “the world is in danger and all of us might die” aura. (It’s also in direct contrast to the 02 group, who were given the details of the crisis and what they needed to do roughly from the get-go.) So in other words, if you want to have some rose-colored nostalgia about the romanticism of this adventure, these are some of the best episodes to pull from.
Takeru’s is obviously from the Village of Beginnings, corresponding to Adventure episode 12, when he and Patamon got to have a fun romp through the village, play together, meet Elecmon, and learn about how Digimon are born. It’s also very much something he did without the others, only with Patamon, and had a lot of “fun and happiness” associated with (later solo episodes with Takeru had a lot more upsetting events more intrinsically tied with it), and, again, it’s extremely rose-colored -- it wasn’t even a day later when Angemon died in front of Takeru’s eyes. But hey, that’s even more reason to pick a moment from before then to stay in forever! Can’t have trauma if that trauma never happens, right?
Also, note that Takeru is one of the few here who’s confirmed to be aware of the partnership dissolution issue at this point, and, unlike Koushirou, isn’t confirmed to have accepted a forward-thinking mentality about it yet -- this is a very, very prime time for his fears of being separated from Patamon again to have a nasty relapse.
Mimi’s is the closest to the midpoint of the series, from the affair with the Geckomon and Otamamon castle (from Adventure episode 25; the metal railings here resemble the stage railings from that episode). It’s from the period of time that was a “lull” -- when nobody actually knew about the encroaching threat of Vamdemon quite yet, and for all it was worth, there was no longer any danger. So Mimi got to live happily in the comfort of the castle and play around with the Geckomon and Otamamon...which, of course, also conveniently excludes the affair where she went on a power trip, made everyone miserable due to her selfishness, and immediately felt guilt over it.
Mimi’s associations with this incident are not entirely negative; she was clearly still having fun singing for them in the end (note how her clothing during that scene involved her regular outfit, which she has on here), and she still had a positive impression of her relationship with the Geckomon and Otamamon as per Adventure episode 47 and 02 episode 6 (and as per 02 episode 15, even though everyone’s initial encounter with TonosamaGeckomon ended badly, nobody actually has any lingering grudge against him). So if you filter out that whole affair with the power trip and the resulting embarrassment, it was a meeting with a bunch of fun Digimon friends, a romantic little castle, and a fun stage session where Mimi got to sing.
Jou’s refers to the Infinity Mountain incident in Adventure episode 7, and even from the get-go you can already see the level of rose-coloredness in Jou’s gesture -- in the actual incident depicted, Jou went to the mountain out of a sense of obligation and stress, and the initial climbing involved him having a bit of a bickering moment with Gomamon. But once they did get up there, it was actually their first time the two of them got to really “bond” -- and not only that, their encounter with Unimon had Jou even look on it with fascination, before the Dark Gear had ever come into play.
So in the end, Jou really would have found the incident enjoyable and worthwhile if not for that, and from there you can understand why it would be appealing for him to revisit that setting and finally get to have a bit of calm fun with Gomamon there -- especially since, again, the Neverland islands have a very strong preference for isolating the kids from others, and this was one of the few times Jou got to have a major moment of calm like this alone with Gomamon, with a slight reprieve from the constant feeling of stress and duty.
Koushirou’s most prominently resembles the “sealed room” in the factory in Adventure episode 5, and while Koushirou certainly continued to make a large number of exciting discoveries after that, this was the situation where Koushirou, with no one else but Tentomon to worry about in the immediate vicinity, got to have the largest sensation of “novelty” -- where he first came upon the fascinating discovery of data manipulating reality around him, and he actually got to see the world change around him by wiping things off a wall.
And, of course, there were other things going on like Tentomon confronting him with his first existential crisis, and how things quickly went south with Andromon...but we don’t have to remember that part for now, right?
An interesting thing about Koushirou: the circumstances of how he was “kidnapped” in the first place are actually somewhat obscured compared to the other four in this scene, since Menoa presumably needed him conscious in order to get his list out of him, resulting in his kidnapping scene also involving an emerging Eosmon and not having him be instantly taken the way we see Takeru and Hikari (more on this in the section below). It’s thus unclear whether he’d be in their boat had his position in Menoa’s plan not been unusual -- said memories in Neverland involved “gathering information and learning more”, something he still actively involved himself with even after the events of Adventure, and he’s also the first one to reach a forward-thinking mentality about the partnership dissolution phenomenon. Either way, once he was already dragged into Neverland, it’s natural that the place could find a good memory for him in the same way it did for the other kids who were “manually” dragged in, but the actual method of entry and whether Koushirou's post-Adventure life put him in a mindset similar to that of the 02 quartet (again, see below) is a bit ambiguous.
So here’s an interesting part about how the 02 quartet gets involved in this story: their own encounters with Eosmon happen during a part where the method of kidnapping has abruptly changed. As many have pointed out, this is also when the degree of the targets Menoa wanted had also suddenly escalated, because while her previous claims had involved the idea of kidnapping like-minded adults (who, indeed, were entertaining thoughts of nostalgia to even some degree), she was now kidnapping actual children, ones who weren’t even nearly at the point of the supposed drudgery of adulthood that Menoa claimed they would eventually have, and with her arrogantly deciding she knew better for all of them. The part that becomes particularly intriguing about this is that the exact same thing happens with Miyako -- she is explicitly stated to have connected her laptop to the Internet, resulting in an Eosmon physically emerging and chasing her instead of instantaneously snatching away her consciousness through a camera like her own fellow 02 group members Takeru and Hikari.
So in other words, the 02 quartet’s favorable position in this incident doesn’t just have to do with being lucky enough to have gotten Koushirou’s warning about the Eosmon early; they (or at least Miyako) also seem to have a certain degree of outright immunity to it, much like the young children who aren’t old enough to have nostalgia yet. (Also, keep in mind that Takeru was caught thanks to a security camera; “excess caution with electronic devices” alone wouldn’t necessarily have guaranteed their safety.)
Recalling that, for the most part, Takeru and Hikari are usually treated more like 02 group members in the context of this narrative yet are, in this one case, treated as being potentially nostalgia-prone, it stands to reason that the main difference between the two of them and their fellow members in the 02 group is the fact that Takeru and Hikari went on the adventure in 1999, and the quartet did not. So in other words, the reason the 02 quartet isn’t as prone to this is not so much that they’re fundamentally different-minded people, as much as they have a distinct lack of an experience they can be attached to the way the Adventure group is to their own 1999 adventure. (Remember that Menoa’s kidnappings work heavily on subconscious feelings; you can’t blame anyone for having these kinds of feelings no matter how much they’ve consciously learned.)
As I said earlier, it’s foolhardy to pretend that Adventure was all sunshine and roses, and, likewise, it’s also foolhardy to pretend that 02 was nothing but suffering for everyone involved. Both series involved a lot of balancing of funny, silly moments to be treasured as much as they involved stress (which is why people are so attached to both, after all). So the question is not so much how happy they were in their childhoods as much as the nature of what that happiness came from, and what relation it has to their current lives. And when you look at what experiences the 02 quartet had back in 02, you might notice a thread of the fact that it is significantly harder to romanticize the events of 02 than it is Adventure.
Let’s put it this way: Let’s say that the 02 quartet was kidnapped into Neverland and placed onto islands that fit Menoa’s view of happiness. What, exactly, would you pick from 02 itself that would work? What kind of “happiness” did they have back then that’s so romantic, so impossible to replicate now, that they’d want to go back to because it’s better than their lives now once you disentangle all of the bad stuff?
...Not much. Not much at all, actually. Hanging out in the computer room together? Doesn’t seem like they cared that much about the computer room part as much as the fact the others were there bantering with them (which would put a huge nail in Menoa’s islands mandating isolationism). Going out on a picnic together? No reason they can’t just go on another picnic again (and if the BD box is to be believed, that’s exactly what they did, and they even added Ken to it while they were at it). Hanging out with their Digimon in real life and doing silly hijinks? They’re...probably still doing that now, actually. Getting to find true happiness at a Christmas party? That’s a party from the real world (again, something they most certainly continued to do thereafter), one where the happiness came not from the romanticism of anything that happened to do with some adventure, but just the happiness of being surrounded by true friends, which, again, Ken is still clearly getting to do by the time of Kizuna.
Once you look at the circumstances of what the “adventure” of 02 was to the 02 group, you may realize that it doesn’t really resemble the traditional romantic image of an “adventure” much at all. Sure, they were blessed with being able to regularly go back and forth between the Digital World from the get-go, but it meant that -- especially without the time dilation in play -- the Digital World became much less of a picturesque area associated with a one-time memorable adventure as much as something they had to squeeze in their after-hours while juggling it with their school. The circumstances they encountered their Digimon and the Digital World in were at a point where it had a certain level of “mundane” to them, compared to their seniors; it wasn’t a “fantasy adventure in the Digital World” when so much of the story also revolved around real-world events as well, and you can’t really find many “mysterious fantasy” events in 02 that resemble much of those in Adventure. The closest might be...Daisuke seeing Numemon pile out of a vending machine in 02 episode 1? (Not very romantic.) Daisuke getting chased around by a Tortomon in 02 episode 22? (Really not very romantic.) Iori getting to tour the ocean with Submarimon? (Implied to more about relief from how much he was holding himself back than the uniqueness of the experience in itself.) Ken’s long-time-ago flashback from 02 episode 23 about meeting Wormmon for the first time? (Defeating a Gazimon is hardly that impressive; the important part was him bonding with Wormmon, which he’s...uh...still doing now?)
There weren’t any lasting relationships with Digimon friends like the ones in Adventure, maybe encountering some civilians once and not seeing them much again after that, especially since the lack of time dilation meant not getting to spend as much time visiting them much at all (think about all of the really fun experiences that the Adventure group probably had that weren’t shown in the actual Adventure TV series, just because it probably didn’t have enough drama that would make a good TV episode plot). This means that there’s very little, if at all, of 02 that represents something this group would want so badly to recreate that they can’t already do now; everything from back then was either something comparatively mundane, or something they actually would not want back. Unlike with Adventure, where a lot of the kids had irreplaceable moments that only happened to be spoiled a bit later, a lot of the “really awesome accomplishments” from the first half of 02 were explicitly against Ken, someone whom they’d probably rather not dwell on fighting again because of how much they love him now; many of those good memories are “retroactively poisoned” because of that, and it’s much, much more difficult to make a rose-colored version of those memories disentangled from the bad, because of how fundamentally intrinsic that retroactive poisoning becomes.
And, when you think about it, the mandate of “you have to be alone on your own island” would pretty much break these four in particular, especially since the 02 group is portrayed as the type to need mutual support more than anything else, and so many of the events that represent “happiness” specifically involved the happiness of each other being present. It’s not to say that the 02 quartet had no moments of happiness when alone with their partners, but, rather, being with each other provided so much more fulfillment to them that Menoa’s offer of a memory of their past that requires them to be alone probably pales in comparison to anything they could do now in each other’s presence. Maybe, like with the other kids depicted in these scenes, they could be buttered up with something nice if you successfully got them into Neverland, but it’s not like they have any real wistfulness about anything from back then to the point that they’d be subconsciously drawn towards it instead of having to be dragged in kicking and screaming -- and especially in the case of Miyako, the same one who managed to evade an Eosmon here, who was offered a similar “chance to be alone” back in 02 episode 49 and didn’t take very long to decide she hated it because of how much of her happiness comes from getting to be with others.
By the time of the end of Adventure, the Adventure kids’ ideal situation was to have a romantic and fun 110-year adventure with the sights and fun of the Digital World, with all of the weird fantasy surrealism and less of the world-saving, and that’s something they never got to have (and that Menoa was inherently offering them). By the time of the end of 02, the 02 quartet’s ideal situation was...to find a way to get back to normal life and hope their friend feels a little better, and that “ideal situation” is still persisting even into the time of Kizuna, so it’s hard to imagine they really want more than that.
And, again, when you extrapolate this into what Kizuna’s trying to say about real life, adulthood, and nostalgia: it is true that Menoa’s projecting a belief that absolutely does not apply to everyone. While it’s true that many people feel that childhood had a certain kind of magic that you can’t get back in adulthood, there are possibly just as many people who aren’t really all that nostalgic to begin with, either due to trauma or something about their childhoods being miserable, or, even in the lack of such miserable events, simply enjoying the added freedom and expanded range of ability that comes with adulthood to the point they consider it to be more than worth the tradeoff. The 02 group basically represents this crowd -- Ken’s life right now beats out his past in pretty much nearly every respect, and while there are certain concerns about not being able to meet up as often, they’re finding the same ways to do the same kinds of over-the-top hijinks they did back in 02, with arguably even more range now that they get to exploit Digital Gates to do world travel and act without worrying about their parents. They’re basically like the adults who see Menoa’s creed of “childhood is better because adulthood sucks” and go “sorry, can’t relate.”
That said, remember: this isn’t because the 02 quartet is somehow mentally stronger or anything, but rather just a byproduct of what experiences they've had and haven’t had. Takeru and Hikari’s position is unique here -- for all intents and purposes their mentalities are portrayed as closer to the 02 group’s, but they did still have the experience their seniors had and are thus still capable of being close to their position in this one regard. In the end, everyone is different, it’s no sin to have feelings based on those differences, and “being able to relate” to one’s position is also an important key here; because the 02 group’s position is so alien to Menoa’s, it’s unlikely they could have tackled her problems nearly as intimately as their seniors could.
What we learn about Menoa’s backstory establishes that she forced her vision of nostalgic happiness on everyone based on her own perception of her past in such a warped, rose-colored manner. She conveniently omitted or forgot about details such as the fact that her life as a “child” involved feeling ostracized from everyone and that she herself was guilty of neglecting Morphomon. Not only that, she herself claims that she’s the only one who knows what this feels like -- that nobody relates to her -- and thus, you can see that she came to her conclusion that her experiences are universal by the power of sheer extrapolation, hence why she thinks everyone inevitably loses their partner upon reaching adulthood despite pretty significant amounts of evidence to the contrary. (For all it’s worth, the fact that she still considers herself as having “become an adult” at 14 just because she got into university at that time is pretty conceited.)
Menoa’s existence as being so starkly in contrast to the 02 quartet’s is very likely because her entire character was built up from the ground that way -- her entire backstory of skipping grades into university is heavily based on 02′s initial development premise and Ken’s own backstory, meaning she explicitly represents the path that Ken and the other 02 kids chose not to take, and the timing of certain events in her backstory seems almost deliberately engineered to prevent her from witnessing some of 02′s important answers to Kizuna’s conflict, most notably her inability to witness the final battle and the important lessons everyone present learned about following one’s dreams without restraint, and how that relates to one’s partner. Menoa’s mindset is basically that level of incompatible with 02′s themes of “moving on from the past” and “not caving to arbitrary societal expectations”, to the point her character could only get to this point by going out of the way to exclude her from 02′s story and events, because she’s fundamentally built as a character who started off on a very similar path as them (getting to integrate her Digimon partner into normal life, having a similar backstory to Ken) before veering off on a very different one.
Moreover, about that backstory, and the reason why 02 was conceived as such a criticism of the concept of “skipping grades into university”: the concern that someone in this position will be kept from making any friends their age. Menoa puts the moment of “being with one’s partner” on such a pedestal and considers herself to be “the only one who knows what this feels like” partially because she has a fundamentally warped view of friendship itself. Even the Adventure group, which may not have had quite the absurdly tight level of bonding the 02 group had, still broke out of the illusion via Taichi and Yamato reaching out to them, and Taichi and Yamato giving each other mutual support helped them make the decisions they did in the movie. The movie is titled “bonds”, and “bonds” doesn’t just refer to those between human and Digimon partner, but also bonds between each other; Taichi, Yamato, and Sora slowly drifting away from the others at the start of the movie has very strong relevance to their respective existential crises, and the role that Taichi and Yamato play in supporting each other, and Mimi’s in supporting Sora in To Sora and even beyond that, say a lot as to how they’re already expected to be much better off than Menoa was.
It’s not that adulthood is inherent drudgery; it’s that Menoa’s own circumstances really are that warped to the point where she sees her very unusual experiences as fundamentally synonymous with how life is supposed to work in general. She was so obsessed with “being independent”, “being useful to the world”, and “being on her own” that she had no mentality of making friends or connecting to others besides her own partner, and once her partner disappeared, she seemed to make no attempt to rectify that. So of course her life in university following that ended up being not nearly as fulfilling as she’d hoped, since she was getting no real emotional support from anywhere, and, as 02 itself also drove home, apparent “approval from society” only ever makes you as “happy” as a Dark Seed-implanted child if you’re not also being supported by your loved ones in the process. Her adulthood sucked, and she decided that everything about her rose-colored childhood meant that childhood is fundamentally superior in every way, and thus decided that keeping everyone else in it would be “saving” them from the terror it involves -- even though (even if they’re not aware of the specifics of everything) the 02 quartet is not the kind to be able to relate to this at all, and, eventually, Taichi and Yamato, who do understand her position a bit better due to their own experiences, are able to get her to reconsider a little.
#digimon#digimon adventure#digimon adventure 02#digimon adventure last evolution kizuna#kizuna spoilers#shihameta
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Home Sweet Home
Masterlist - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8
Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.
Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader
Words: 7569 words
Warnings: Angst, sexual innuendos.
A/N: Last “soft” chap before the action come back ~
**Words in bold are words said in French, which means the clones can’t understand it.**
Taglist: @clone-rambles / @mandaloriandin / @apathetic-catastrophie / @jenstar1992-2 / @haloangel391 / @lightning-wolffe / @cherrydemon5 / @and-claudia / @lackofhonor / @gaymasonjar / @depthsreturn / @koskareevesismyqueen / @leonidas-banana-phone
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Nothing changed. Not the obnoxious people, not the earthy smells, nor the heavy atmosphere. The loud locks of the gates closing behind your group still resonated through your ears, sounding too much like the last nail sealing your coffin shut and not like a protecting device. Was it your instincts telling you that you made the wrong decision? Or was it just the dread of returning somewhere you never wanted to return? Either way, it was clear that you didn't feel any bits of nostalgia at being back between these rocky walls.
Hells, even the council's room was giving off unpleasant vibes with its tall bookcases carved directly into the walls that protected way too many old books that weren't all redacted in French nor in Basic. A map of the planet hung on the furthest wall of the room, the different villages identified with their respective symbol to help with trades, hunts, fights. Frabas' name crossed out in blood-red ink to remind everyone of the overnight genocide that happened there.
The lanterns were the only nice things in the room. The soft green and blue crystals contained within the glass enclosure bathed the whole room in their light. Maybe if you focussed on them long enough their glow would soothe your mind.
"Excuse me? You spit on it?" Tech's sudden high pitch tone was surprising enough to pass through your incessant flow of thoughts
"Yeah. Right there." He pointed at an intergrown knot close to the far extremity of the table where the heads usually sat. "What? Did you want me to piss on it? That's a bit too animalistic." Kayden added as soon as he noticed Tech's offended expression that quickly morphed into a disgusted one.
"Honestly, with you people, I wouldn't have been surprised." Crosshair's jeer traveled the room in a second. It took even less to drop Kayden's mood.
His hand tightened around yours and without losing a single second, you matched his grip to keep him from expressing his frustration through anything physical. Now wasn't the time to start a fight between your own team members when several other players might want to hurt you.
If tonight's bad luck could turn into good fortune at least once, now would be the time. The 'diplomats' were out of harm's way, Kayden had technically done what he was told and thus was not considered a traitor, leaving you alone on the spot.
"Look who just found his voice again." He caught your message and used his words instead. "I was sure you'd swallowed your tongue when you ran like a chicken back there."
"And who ran the fastest in the group eh?" The sniper walked to the table. His hands fell flat on the wood to support himself as he leaned forward, daring the brunette at your sides to make a move.
"The fastest is usually the one to survive." He pointed out as he scratched at his clothed chest with his free hand, his right one still prisoner of your grip.
"Crosshair." Hunter slightly pulled him backward by the pauldron and away from the incoming confrontation. "Enough." He added with a growl, clearly remembering how this wasn't his brother. Not fully.
Against all expectation, Crosshair did back off, although he quickly moved his animosity towards the new source of irritation, clear proof that this wasn't the man with whom Hunter had shared so many memories, good or bad. He was a total stranger that didn't respect him at all and lived to push his buttons. Why he stayed with you all was a mystery, although you weren't complaining. Keeping him restrained while in the jungle would have been a true challenge.
It was like waiting for a storm to explode. The dark grey clouds were there, the strong winds blew away everything in their wake, the thunder resonated in the distance, yet there wasn't any droplet of rain. The men faced each other just like in the cave, mere centimeters separated their chest plates and anytime now, the first blow would mark the start of a colossal downpour.
It was nerve-wracking. Even Wrecker and Tech were watching, clearly pondering if they should intervene or if by doing so they would aggravate the situation. You started getting up as the door opened and startled you into seating down again.
Never had you thought that seeing Arlan enter a room would make you feel relieved, yet, this was exactly how you felt at the moment. It seemed like the sudden entrance of an outsider was enough for Crosshair to back off. You subtly crossed your fingers that he wouldn't lash out at the leader even though the scene would very probably make you feel so much better. The consequences of going against Arlan just weren't worth it.
Before the dark-haired leader could notice it, you separated your hand from Kayden's, both your backs straightened and your unbothered masks came back on. Wearing the well-worn suit of this fake cocky personality was deeply uncomfortable but truly necessary. Over the years it became your best shield and Kayden your best ally.
"Take a seat." Arlan waved towards the table as he walked deeper into the room, passing Hunter and Crosshair like they weren't even there. It took years to be able to read the black-haired leader, but it definitely came in handy now.
His calm tone hid a deep irritation that showed through the tightness gripping the muscles around his eyes. He quickly tamed his features as he took place at the end of the table, his elbows immediately meeting the hardwood of the armchairs to allow his fingers to interlace before him.
Soon the 4 seats opposing you were occupied with rigid troopers. Their helmets still firmly on would have been seen as an enormous lack of respect if only Arlan's attention wasn't already focussed on two nasty boots dripping mud onto the piece of art that was the table.
Arlan only needed one look to communicate thoroughly his thoughts. The hard gaze that could easily be misinterpreted as a constipated one transpired enough threats that Kayden removed his boots without any further delay. The ultimatum was clear and you both knew that there was nothing Arlan despised more than repeating himself. Well, maybe you two were the firsts on his list, but that was especially because you loved to make him repeat himself.
If only he didn't look like there was an entire fire-ants colony in his pants, Kayden would have kept his feet up for a bit longer just to raise the man's blood pressure a little. You swore he got more grey hair each time he had to talk with the two of you.
The disapproving sigh accompanying the stormy grey hues boring deeply into yours was a true gift to Kayden whose smirk widened in consequence.
"Do you know why you're here?" The question resonated within the room with utmost seriousness, a seriousness that you forced yourself to shrug nonchalantly in response.
"Surely not because you missed me." You placed a smirk on your lips to copy your sidekick and complete the infernal duo act.
His dark-grey sleeves rode up his arms as he bent forward, his elbows now resting on the table, to get a closer look at you, 3 chairs away. Whilst being very tempting, flinching under his hard stare was out of the question. Four months in a medbay with kind people almost made you forget what the world was really made of; selfish people who always looked out for weaknesses to exploit and were eager to beat others down in hope to raise themselves up.
"We are here to talk relations between the Republic and your planet." Hunter sharply stated, cutting short the staring contest. "My team was sent in a preliminary manner to inform you of the Republic's intentions seeing as your representatives couldn't be reached through official channels. In the following days, two senators will be coming here with adequate troops to talk in the Senate's name."
How the room got hotter in a second was a mystery. All you knew was that even though his tone was borderline too crisp to be qualified as diplomatic, Hunter's words were so perfectly chosen that you wondered if he'd done this kind of job before.
As the silence following Hunter's declaration stretched, Arlan's gaze moved to the hard visor of the commando trooper. The intensity of his stare left you thinking that maybe he was able to see through the shade. Unfazed, Hunter stared right back as you did just moments prior.
You nearly missed it. If you hadn't been watching Arlan as intently as you were doing, the minuscule flash in his eye would have been overlooked. A muscle jumped in his jaw, filling you with dread. Something was wrong. Somehow he had the upper hand and he was internally relishing his win.
"A very well executed lie, but I am sorry to announce you that the Republic won't come here, Sergeant. Not after the Jedis signed a treaty to never come on this planet ever again." You were sure he paused just to get a reaction out of the commando. Hunter's helmet hid his expression perfectly. If he'd reacted or not was totally lost on everyone, unfortunately, it wasn't the same for Kayden whose eyes grew as big as saucers. "No Jedi, no clone, no senator, no Separatist, no outsider is welcome here."
Say what now? Never before had you ever heard of Jedis ever landing a foot on Fors, even less signing a treaty.
Hunter's helmet slightly dipped in your direction, surely to get some answers through your body language. Surely, he got the message when you gulped, wariness filling your eyes as you continued to stare at the man in his mid-50s. His message had been pretty clear from the very beginning. That he felt the need to add that the clones weren't welcome caused doubts in your village ethics to creep into your mind.
As far as you knew, no one had ever been executed in cold blood. Sure, you'd heard stories as a child about how people who were a tad bit too disturbing in the community would vanish overnight, obviously thrown out into the jungle to be feasted on by some hungry creature. Without knowing if they were true events or simply a way to make children behave, you took a habit of sticking with Kayden as soon as the firsts Furants that created their nests in the crooks of the walls circling the village entered the gates to hide, signaling that 7 pm had recently passed and the Nightmares would show up in under an hour. After all, there was no better nuisance in Alryan than the two of you.
Knowing that Arlan's smugness was carefully hidden under layers of practiced indifference, a very tantalizing urge to break your knuckles once again send tingles into your dominant hand. Breaking his nose for a second time would definitely help your mood as well as everyone else's in the room, you were sure of it.
"The- the Jedis? But they never-"
"It is not common knowledge." Arlan archly cut Kayden short and rolled his eyes with that very particular expression that made you feel like the stupidest idiot in the galaxy. In response, the tingles in your hand intensified. "This treaty is way older than me after all. We never needed the Republic's help in any way, not then and certainly not now." He at least had the decency to meet his eyes as he talked.
"And what do you think of the Nightmares? Frabas-" You piped up, the image of a traumatized red-head girl shaking in her bloody clothes popped in your mind. "They could've helped with that."
"They are protectors." He closed his eyes in exasperation and pinched his nose like he'd repeated the concept over and over again to a child that never retained anything.
"They don't protect shit! They kill us!"
Where had he been his whole life? Every night they came and howled, screeched, hissed, yapped and laughed on the other side of the gates in hope of having some juicy flesh and fresh blood to appease their hunger and thirst. Some even went as far as hitting the gates repeatedly in hope of breaking their way in. 10 hours per night, 368 nights a year, every year.
"They protect the Core that's in you--" He interrupted himself as soon as he noticed the irritation breaching his mask, allowing venom to drip through the closing cracks. His rage fit only lasted a second but it was a second too much. He gave you more than he wanted you to know.
"What do you mean? In me?" You could feel yourself starting to shake. In apprehension, anger or fear you couldn't tell. There was too much going on at the same time, assaulting your already tired mind.
"Nothing that you need to know." His tone was definitive, his grey eyes conveying the same message.
"Bullshit!" You jump to your feet just as he pushed his chair to get up. "If it's in me like you say, I deserve to know!"
Your yell must have triggered something, because as soon as the words flew from your mouth, Rhian and his troops entered the room, bows fully bent and ready to shoot in your direction. Elijah had his hammer in both hands, fully prepared to use it against a clone- your money went on Wrecker- if needed and Pete was ready to blow a tranquilizer- or it could easily be a fast-acting poison- into someone's neck.
The answer to the intrusion was immediate. Wrecker's chair went flying behind him at the impact of his legs when he followed his CO's movement. All four troopers stood on their side of the table, imposing and totally ready to enter a fight if need be. You and Kayden though? Totally not ready. You were unarmed and by the time you took hold of Kayden's bow, at least three arrows would have found their way into your body.
"All you really deserved was to die on Murphy Day." He snarled in your direction as his impatience once again showed through his slipping mask. "Throw them in the slammer."
That's it. Goodbye knuckles. Always the perceptive, Kayden grabbed your upper arm, right below the Algax's clean-cut, and pulled you back to his side even before you made the first step towards the bastard. Always there to keep you alive for another day. What a nice friend.
"Hands behind your head." Rhian barked as he approached you and Kayden from behind.
Doing as you were told, you noticed the troopers hesitating before doing as ordered when you nodded at them. Tech lifted his good hand, the other keeping hold of Crosshair's cage. One of the archers went to seize it, but a sudden shoulder to the sternum kept him away.
He's not just a nerd. You smirked as the archer stumbled.
"Let them keep it." Rhian waved off the fuming archer who definitely wanted to go back and win his fight. Too bad. "Walk ahead. You know the way." Rhian nodded towards the door after getting a hold of Kayden's bow and quiver, his very own bow aimed at the floor. The string was stretched just enough to cause serious damage if he needed to defend himself quickly, but he seemed to know that it wasn't needed.
Kayden led the way with you in tow, Elijah and Pete moved away from the door to let you pass at a safe distance. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Rhian breaking formation to move up to Arlan, who surely waved him over.
You sighed as you remembered that he didn't even tell you why he wanted you here.
The clone's boots resonated against the rock floor at each of their steps, close enough to appease your mind.
"Do you know a way out of here?" Hunter's voice emanated softly within your ear.
You moved your shoulder blades in a circular motion as if you were stretching the muscles and nodded your head at the same time as to not look too suspicious to the archers escorting the group. Good thing that they didn't notice your earpiece yet.
Wrecker must have been the one right behind you because he relayed the message to Hunter through the private line.
"Now?" You rotated your head from side to side like when you needed to crack your neck.
"No." Came Wrecker's whisper.
"In the slammer?" A small nod.
"Yeah."
"Then we wait and we get out as soon as possible." Hunter told his half-plan to the Batch who hummed their approvals.
Once again the unusual parade that you formed along with the armored men attracted many curious eyes. Ignoring them was easier this time around, the familiarity of their chary gazes finally coming back to allow you to concentrate on something else.
This part of the village was carved so deeply into the mountain that even the occasional howls coming from the jungle couldn't be heard. There couldn't have been better protection for a population of more than 700 people than a natural barrier of rock. Sure, this very convenient refuge could easily become a tomb for a lot of villagers in the event of a breach, but several emergency tunnels were created for this very situation. They were maintained at a perfect condition in case a repeat of Frabas' catastrophe ever came to happen.
Every Alryan learned the location of every single tunnel at the youngest of age. They were only to be used in emergency cases and right now, it was an emergency. It all depended on the perspective.
"It never changed." You stated quietly as the slammer's entrance came into view, the dark purple glow emanating from its depths was a stark contrast to the lively colors of the main area.
Goosebumps rose on your arms as you followed Kayden down the tunnel. The nearby natural well raised the humidity in these parts of the mountain and thus caused the air to become colder. Just my luck, you thought as the fresh air infiltrated your clothes by the multiple tears in their fabric.
"In there." Rhian speed-walked to catch up with Kayden and direct him to a cell carved into the wall on his left.
You were locked up with him, Wrecker and Hunter got situated in the cell facing yours, Crosshair and Tech on the one right beside theirs.
Right as Tech got in after a growling Crosshair, Rhian took hold of the cage and kicked Tech inside who landed in a yelp. You weren't even gripping the bars yet that the heavy door closed behind the engineer.
"Give him back!"
"Sorry 'bout that." He threw the cage in the air twice, the flame within shaking frantically as it hit the bars. "Orders are orders." He ignored the yells of his name bouncing in the detention center and walked out unbothered, his men in tow.
"How quick can you get us out of here?" The urgency in Hunter's tone only added to your own raiding anxiety. What would Arlan do to Crosshair? He was totally defenseless.
"Couple of minutes. But we'll need Back-Up. I hope you have it." You turned to Kayden who scoffed in mocked offense.
"You have back-up?" Tech wondered out loud, tilting his head. "I thought no one would help you here."
"Jeez. Thanks for the vote of confidence." Kayden held his heart before reaching for his chest pocket. "Back-up is my Godot." He pulled a hand-sized lizard from his pocket to show the Batch.
The Godot's orange scales shone softly at Kayden's contact, their light reflecting onto the soft line of baby blue leaves growing on each side of its spine. Its three-fingered paws grabbed fingers and clothes to remain in place while two black eyes moved independently from one another to take in what was happening around. Its long tail wrapped around Kayden's wrist as he lifted it up to show off, the small leaves at its end shining brightly in surprise.
Wrecker gasped and lifted his helmet to get a better view of the animal. "That's what I saw the first time, Tech! It's the lizard that disappeared!"
"Nothing disappeared Wrecker. There was nothing there." Tech rebuked.
"Don’t be so sure about that! They can camouflage themselves, right Back-Up?" At the half-baked order, the tiny lizard shut off its light and changed its skin pigmentation to copy its environment to perfection.
"It disappeared Tech! See? That's what I saw and you didn't believe me!" Wrecker's tone raised as he pointed to Kayden's seemingly empty outstretched hand.
"Wrecke-" You tried to warn him to keep his voice down but heard steps coming your way.
"Back-up, go get the master key at home." Kayden hurriedly whispered to the Godot and quickly kneeled to allow it access to the ground so it could wander away and get the required object.
A guard appeared at the end of the corridor just as Kayden got up and threw himself onto the upper hammock fixed to the walls. He moved around to get comfortable and into the right position, hands under his head.
"So, I've heard that Stockholm syndrome was hard on you." Brett, a particularly annoying scout, mocked from behind his beard.
"Nope. Still don't like y'all." You replied nonchalantly despite the urge to punch him through the bars.
"I was talking about them." He pointed to the two cells containing the clones and you lifted a single eyebrow.
"Tech, definition of Stockholm syndrome please." You asked, maintaining eye contact during the whole process.
"Stockholm syndrome," You saw the genius perked up at your request. Sadly, he didn't lift a finger in the air while he recited the meaning of the word. "Is a psychological response wherein a captive begins to identify closely with his or her captors, as well as with their agenda and demands." He ended with a nod and the movement satisfied you enough to let the lack of a finger go.
"That means you dumbass." You spat as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I'm with them willingly."
"Get fucked!" Kayden shouted with a laugh that got half a smile out of you.
"You? Our captive? It sure felt like the other way around." He finally switched to basic and the hate coating his words told you that he wasn't talking about the pranks and snarky attitude, no, he was talking about something bigger than that.
"What are you talking about?" Maybe you could get more answers out of him than you did with Arlan.
He scoffed. "Stop trying to play the idiot. Between the two of you, Kayden's the best at it."
You ignored said idiot's thanks to press the matter. "Okay and let's imagine I really don't know what the hell you're talking about. What in the damn world did I do?" You remembered Arlan's word and almost added what is wrong with me? but Brett was already dropping the three medicine canisters to the ground, out of reach from either your cell or the clones' and went away.
"You live."
You sat on the ground, drained of every ounce of energy you once had. What was wrong with you? Why did everyone want you dead? The fear you felt at Arlan's words came back as you thought about what it could all mean. The Nightmares who stopped appearing when you left and came back when you did. Whatever the Core was that supposedly resided in you and the fact that the Lumsin knew what it was while you didn't. That the villagers never saw you as an annoying brat but a vile oppressor.
You faintly heard Kayden talking with Tech about Back-up, but couldn't make out the exact words, your own thoughts being way too loud for you to clearly hear anything outside your head.
"It's alright. Don't worry about it." An arm fell on your shoulders and pulled you into Kayden's side who now sat next to you on the ground, successfully pulling you out of your own mind. Yet, as comforting as his gesture was supposed to be, you only felt guiltier. Even when everyone else pointed their fingers at you, he was still there to keep yourself up even after you'd vanished on him.
Kayden scratched the clothes over his heart again and cut off your incoming guilty declaration.
"Question. If the half-skull one was to break my jaw or somethin' and that you didn't see it happen, would you believe me if I told you it was him?" Kayden asked, frowning too deeply for you to brush the question off as one of his stupid ones.
"Wha-?" Then it dawned on you. "Did you threaten him?" You asked Hunter, voice raising in octaves.
You knew Kayden probably deserved it, but he was your best friend. You've been helping each other for more than 15 years and there was no way you'd let him get beaten for a stupid jealousy tantrum.
An invisible hand squeezed your heart as you felt Kayden relaxing against your side. He doubted that you'd listen to him. More importantly, he doubted that you'd trust his word over someone else's. Sure it was Hunter's word, but you knew the Sergeant was not in his right mind and not only because of the irrational feeling.
"He wouldn't stop talking." The unbothered tone in which he answered shocked you.
"Yet you've never threatened Tech."
"That's not the same." Why must he sound like he truly believed that he did nothing wrong?
"You may not value his life and health, but I do. A lot." You emphasized the last word so he got the message. "And his word is the only single one in the galaxy that I never ever doubted."
Kayden's breath sharply filled his lungs and Hunter's fingers curled into fists. You still deeply loved the dark-haired Sergeant and seeing him frustrated at your words made a real number on your insides but that rational part of your brain told you that he would tire of you someday and would leave, whereas Kayden had shown countless of times that he'd be there to hold your hand, push your back and pull you up whenever needed.
"Good to know."
Why did his acknowledgment of your words make you sick? You'd said those words yourself and they were true, so how could they hurt that much? If it wasn't of the half-circles traced on the back of your right hand, you certainly would have had a physical reaction. It could have been hiding in your hammock or tears leaking from your eyes, you didn't know.
"You don't trust us?" Wrecker's hurt translated in his low, nearly inaudible tone if it wasn't of the earbud deeply pushed into your ear canal.
"I do Wrecker. I really do. It's me that I don't." Damn. For someone who wanted to avoid feelings-talks like the plague, you found yourself right in the middle of the deepest one ever.
"I don't understand." He admitted.
"I-" You sighed, trying to find the words that would explain something you didn't know how to explain. "I don't myself Wrecker. I make people despise me and-" The words escaped you. Out of exasperation, your free hand moved up to rub your closed eyelids and drag the pads of your fingers down your cheeks.
"When they don't you persuade yourself they do and you tell yourself that they'll give you up so you start to doubt them even when there's nothing to worry about." Kayden shrugged at your wide eyes looking at him. "Don't be surprised I know you better than yourself. You did the same shit with me but I didn't let you."
"Then why did you doubt yourself against Hunter?"
" 'cuz you love him." He answered in your native tongue and you were grateful for it. You weren't ready to say the words out loud and if Kayden, the person who just demonstrated that he knew you like the palm of his hand, said those words himself, then he'd throw your feelings out in the open and you couldn't have that. Not when your brain still expected the Bad Batch to get back to their ship and leave you on Fors, where you belonged.
"You were there longer."
"Yeah, but that was because you couldn't escape me. Give them their chance. You might be surprised." He patted your shoulder like an old man who gave advice to a youngster.
"We wouldn't give you up. You're our friend!" Wrecker added once the conversation in a foreign language died.
"If you still doubt our friendship, then you might want to remember that we passed hundreds of hours training you to be our pilot and that we lied to our superiors to keep you." Tech pointed out, this time with the finger in the air. It brought the tiniest of smiles to your lips.
"Or remember the moments shared." Hunter surprised you with his quiet words that Kayden definitely couldn't hear without a comm device. Had he realized that he was fighting a non-existent enemy? Or did he feel as bad as you following your exchange?
"Or you can remember that you're a freak." Tech slapped his lean brother's shoulder
"So I belong with you guys? Yeah, I'll- I'll do my best to remember all that." A chuckle escaped your lips. "Thanks." You added under your breath, to which the boys nodded and Wrecker smiled brightly.
"Is your chest okay?" Tech asked and pointed at Kayden who was still scratching his torso.
"Yeah, 's just itchy. I think Kerth put some poison Ivy in my clothes. I wouldn't be surprised." He pulled his shirt forward to look at his skin. He winced. "That does look like it."
"You never get tired of looking at yourself?" A soft feminine voice chuckled from down the hallway.
Soft brown eyes shone behind fiery red locks, their owner walking straight to your cell where she stopped to pass you a hot container. You'd recognize that smell everywhere and apparently so did your stomach who growled loudly in anticipation of receiving some soup.
"Good timing, I see." She chuckled, put her pack on the ground and offered you a container. "It's not poisoned, I promise. I did it myself." She assured in basic when you kept watching her hands without making any move towards the food.
Still unmoving, Kayden took it upon himself to grab two containers and let the redhead give the clones their servings.
"They wanted me to only feed the soldiers but I slipped some for you two as well. For all the spare crusts." She nodded at you, who kept watching her in silence. Before turning around to go back to where she came from, the woman had the kindness to grab the discarded medicine canisters and offer them to Kayden. "Take care."
Wait. You had to tell her. It was like your brain forgot how everything worked. Opening your mouth wasn't hard compared to finding what to say. Even then your throat constricted in an attempt to shut you up, but you couldn't let her go without telling her.
She deserved to know.
"Fleena." Was all you managed and it was enough to stop her in her tracks. When she turned, your hand was already fishing around in your pocket for the small piece of wood.
She came back as you brought your closed fist forward and dropped the dirty necklace on her open hand.
She stared at it, surprise taking over her soft features in a flash as soon as she recognized the symbol. She turned it to inspect the back and now was the right time for the earth to open beneath your ass and take you away.
"Where did you get that?" The tremors in her voice send a knife through your heart.
Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you made sure to choose your words better than with Hunter. "Nixon was a Wanderer."
"He-" She started with hope until she registered your sentence. "Was?"
There it was. The moment to own what you did finally arrived.
"What did you do?" She pressed as you kept silent, unable to say it out loud.
"It wasn't him anymore, Fleena. He hadn't grown up and kept walking in circles on his bleeding feet. He was tormented."
You freed him. You helped him. Now that her horrified hazel eyes bore into yours, Crosshair's words that were so helpful before held no sense.
"He was still my brother." She clutched the necklace to her chest, tears running down her cheeks.
"Nixon was gone."
"I don't expect you to understand. You don't know anything about having a sibling."
The silence following her retreating steps was even heavier than before. No. That wasn't true. The boys spoke in the background and in your ear, prompting you to remove the device to have some peace.
"You're right, I don't." You grumbled in your knees that were now up to your face to hide your features, your arms tightly wrapped around them to keep them close.
"That's the biggest bullshit that ever came out of your mouth." Kayden scoffed next to you. "What do you think I am then? Your friend?" He puffed like it was the stupidest joke he'd ever been told. "Fuck no. We've been family ever since your dad died so cut the crap or I'll hit you."
I should be punching you for saying such stupid stuff.
"For real. I'll hit you so hard you won't ignore me again." He shuffled around to better position himself, arm lifting-
"I've abandoned you." You spat more at you than at him.
"Siblings sucks but we love them anyway." He shrugged. "You're no exception."
Tears gathered in your eyes. Even after leaving him alone to fight for himself, Kayden still loved you as much as before and never once held a grudge against your actions. He was a true god-given gift and you'd treated him unfairly.
Pain exploded into your shoulder and you found yourself colliding with the ground.
"The fuck?" Four spots on your shoulder hurt so deeply that it didn't take long for you to realize that he'd hit you with his knuckles.
"My monthly quota was not yet achieved." He smirked, watching you massage the beaten skin.
"Don't you think I'm hurt enough already?"
"Stop whining, we have Biogel." He shook the metallic container before your face.
"That thing hurts like hell." You groaned, pushing his hand away to sit straight.
"When did you become such a baby?" You shot him the deadliest glare you had in reserve. "Hey. It's a very small price to pay for completely healed wounds in under 30 minutes."
"Completely healed?" Tech inquired, eying the matching container in his hands that Kayden pushed him.
"Yeah! One good layer and bye-bye! Works for sprained stuff too, just takes a little longer." Kayden answered as he helped you apply the cold sticky gel onto your arms. "Little tips: let someone else put it on you." He added as you hissed and groaned under the burning feeling that came with the product.
Your hands closed and opened repeatedly to keep from hitting Kayden in retaliation for the pain he was putting you through. The raging fire led to intense stinging that you could describe as white-hot needles poking your damaged skin.
"Please remember that you love me." Kayden said right before he dropped a huge blob of Biogel onto the hole in your leg. Had he not jumped away, your elbow would have connected with his chest at high speed. Instead, all that got injured were your nerves, your vocal cords and Hunter's head.
"I'll murder you if you do that again." You whimpered while clutching your upper thigh in hope of cutting every pain transmission from your leg to your brain.
"Good thing it was the last one!" He laughed from his side of the cell, Biogel discarded to the profit of the warm bowl of soup which he was already drinking like he'd been starved for a week.
Wrecker's gasp and groans filled the air. A quick glance his way showed Hunter applying a coat of the translucent substance on his burnt hands and neck as well as on the cuts on his arms. Then came Hunter's turn who covered some scratches from the Yappians and after some thought applied some of it on the side of his forehead. No sound escaped his throat, the only proof of the pain assaulting his nerves being the scrunching of his face, unlike Tech who yelped when Crosshair carelessly applied the gel on his wrist and arms. Then, like pain didn't affect him at all, he splattered some on his swollen ankle and it was done.
"I'm sure no one really wants to eat right now, but it'd be good to eat the food until Back-up comes back and we have to leave." Kayden reminded.
"What's that?" Crosshair asked, more worried about the soup than Wrecker was. The tank was already slurping the soup down, mindful of his sensible fingers.
"In basic I guess it translates as bone soup." Wrecker stopped abruptly, mouth still scotched to the bowl. He eyed you in distress, pondering if it was safe to swallow or not. "It's good, despite the name. Hunters usually eat that before a hunt to boost their systems, right Y/N?" Just for the sake of the game, you nodded. It was true anyway.
"And eh… what's in it?" Tech moved the container in small circles to try and identify what was floating in the light yellow liquid.
"Roots, meats, some veggies, guts and ground bones." You kept your poker face as Kayden enumerated the 'ingredients' and Wrecker lost all colors. "Where do you think the name comes from?"
Wrecker spat his enormous gulp and you laughed to the point of tears, soon joined by your best frie- brother.
"He's just fucking with y'all, Wreck. It's called bone soup because there's bone marrow in it to help with our joints. And there’s no guts. We're no savages." You did your best to control your laugh before digging into your soup eagerly. How Kayden always managed to get your mood up was a total mystery, but it always worked and you were grateful for it.
"Could've fooled me." Crosshair taunted.
"Ya can choke on it." You said at the same time Kayden did, getting a laugh out of it.
The delicious soup filled your stomach in less than 10 gulps and it wasn't until you put your bowl down that you realized how good it made you feel to fill that emptiness in you. The soup wasn't enough to make you sleepy after a nice meal and provided just enough nutrients for everyone to be able to face the fast-approaching escape without a problem. Mixed with the Biogel, you were back at the top of your games.
Arlan really made an error in taking care of the group.
"What now? What's your plan?" Hunter wondered, posing his container on the ground.
You met gaze with Kayden and he nodded confidently. "How well can you all swim in your armors?"
"In calm water, we are fine but slow. We can't go in strong water. The current will catch in the plastoid and will drag us down."
A hum resonated from within your throat and you pucker your lips. "You can't give them up. That scratch out the underground well and the waterfall." You taped your lips in thought. Watching Tech who still drank with only one hand, you knew that hiking wasn't an option as well. For now at least.
"Then it's the dark pit." Kayden pointed out.
It indeed was the last possible option. The other remaining one would be to use the front gates and it was the least possible one.
"Yeah. The other tunnels would take too long to get out and then we'd lose too much time walking back at the Old Man's cave." You recalled from your mental map of the jungle. "I'm fairly sure we have two hours until dawn. The Old Man's Cave is 15 minutes away from here if we run."
"Then we run." Hunter agreed.
"Now, to get out… Hey, big guy." Kayden called. "What's the name?"
"Wrecker." He answered proudly, almost puffing his chest out.
Kayden scoffed. "Obviously. Should'a figured." He turned to you. "Is it too late to change my name?"
The moron was too far for a shoulder slap, so you showed your exasperation with a roll of your eyes. "Stop screwing around and tell us your idea."
"Yeah yeah." The childish tone wasn't surprising on his part. He turned his attention back to the tall clone. "So, Wrecker, I bet you're experienced with big shafts so how good are you with pulse-hammers?" In a flash, you threw your empty container at his head with utmost precision that you knew Crosshair would be proud. The flying object was as unexpected for him as the inappropriate sentence was for you and hit him square on the forehead.
"I'll strangle you." You threatened.
"Kinky." He winked while nursing his forehead.
"With what?" Wrecker inquired, too focussed on the unknown term to pick up at the dirty joke.
"Her han-"
"Not that, morron." You cut him off. "The big hammer that exploded that tree back at the pit." You clarified for Wrecker.
"Oh! I've never used one before, but I'm sure it can't be that hard!" Excitement glimmered in his eyes at the perspective of using the powerful weapon.
"Oh believe me it's hard." Kayden smirked way too smugly for your taste.
"Okay. Time out. Planning is paused." You poked the palm of your hand with the fingertips of your other hand. "I call pervert veto card." You deadpanned.
"Oh hell no you can't!" Was there panic in his voice? Yes. Definitely.
"Oh heck yes I can! Once a year for 24 hours and I'm using it now." Thank the gods you'd not used it before.
"But-!"
"No but or butts. No sexual reference in any form, implied or not. 24 hours starting now." He glared at you from his spot two meters away. You could have laughed at his face that perfectly mirrored a kid who just got his Christmas gift stolen directly from its small weak hands.
"You're fucking me in the ass." He grumbled like an overgrown petulant child.
You lifted an eyebrow. "Try again. You can do it."
"Party pooper."
"There you go." As you turned to the rest of them, a laugh escaped your lips at the clones’ expressions.
Crosshair, despite his feelings blockade, was covering his mouth, Wrecker was laughing his ass off, Tech looked relieved behind his horrified eyes and Hunter chuckled. He appeared to be pleased and somewhat totally used to the situation, which grabbed your curiosity.
Later. You forced a cough to get everyone's attention. "Let's continue. To answer your question, Wrecker, handling a pulse-hammer is not hard. Only remember to not touch the head," You had to stop to point at Kayden in a threatening manner when you sensed a perverted comment about to escape his idiotic mouth despite the veto card being used. "And hit with the glowing side. If you hit with the other side, you'll damage the hammer and it'll be useless."
"I can do that!" Wrecker enthusiastically nodded.
"So we plan into exploding our way out of here? What do we do about Cross?" Tech pointed out what he thought was a flaw in your plan.
Right at this moment, Back-Up appeared before Kayden, its fluffy leaves puffing out in pride as Kayden removed the Master key from its belly pouch. What a marvelous creature they were. Being able to fit your own size in an extensible pouch that covered your body from your collarbone to your pelvis was truly amazing and more than practical.
"We'll split. Kayden will guide you guys to the emergency tunnel and I'll go get Cross. I'll meet you all as soon as I can."
You nearly hadn't finished that Hunter inevitably rejected your plan. "No. We stay together."
"We can't. You guys will be the decoy I need to sneak around and find him and having one of you with me will catch attention and slow me down." You cut Hunter as he still looked like he was about to be opposed. "I still have my comms and earbud. I'll contact you every 5 minutes." You offered in an attempt to compromise.
Silence stretched and you got up, already ready to depart. The tingling in your arms and leg had subsided some time ago and to your sweet surprise, applying weight on your leg didn't hurt as much as before.
Kayden unlocked the cells and a hand softly grabbed your forearm. "Fine. You comm every 5 minutes and you take this." He moved to Tech to rummage through his belt and hand you a pistol. "Use it if needed."
You took the pistol with a steady grip despite the uncertainty shaking your guts. It was the very first blaster you've ever had in your hand and it was heavier than you thought. "Don't worry. I will." You assured him, voice strong and unwavering.
But… could you really?
#bad batch x reader#hunter x reader#tech x reader#wrecker x reader#crosshair x reader#tcw#star wars#clone force 99#sergeant hunter#clone trooper tech#clone trooper wrecker#clone trooper hunter#clone trooper crosshair#Good Night Good Luck
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Fictober day 31
prompt number 17. i’m with you, you know that
mirrorworld fanfiction
Will was awake. Again.
Clara’s breath was heavy, she was on the other side of the bed, sleeping deeply.
Why couldn’t he be like her? why couldn’t he wrap up in his memories of the World behind the Mirror without feeling… What was he feeling? Sweet nostalgia and hurtful longing, fur something that had nearly killed him. Nearly made him forget…
But now all he wanted was to recall all those lost pieces of his life. Fragments of his soul.
Suddenly, he realized he could see the bedside table. But he was sure that, a moment prior, the room had been in complete darkness. He felt… great? Healthy? Capable of doing anything he wanted? Why?
He didn’t move, there was the risk to wake her up. And there were too many questions he couldn’t answer.
Questions made of jade and blood. With the difference that now he could remember the answer.
“Lieutenant!”
“You aren’t coming”
“Why?”
“Because I said so”
“But the Fairy told me to protect the King”
“And I’m telling you that you aren’t needed” It was an order. He had to obey. But it was coming from the wrong mouth.
“He comes”
“What?” lieutenant Hentzau was looking straight in the King’s eyes.
“It’s an order, are you going to argue on my order?”
“Yes” the Lieutenant and the King were so close, he knew he would have never reached that level of trust with anyone. but it wasn’t important, he had only one mission and it didn’t require to think. It required to obey.
“Please, Hentzau, don’t be ridiculous. I know who my best soldier is and it’s still you”
“I don’t trust him”
“Even if he defeated all the other guards? Even knowing who made him?”
“Precisely for this reason”
“Oh, you still don’t trust her, do you?” And the King didn’t wait for the answer. He turned directly towards him and asked: “Who are you with?”
“I’m with you, you know that” he responded, without even thinking. The King turned again towards the Lieutenant.
“And he demonstrated it last night, with Reckless…” What a curious name. he felt like he was related to it, in some way. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t remember.
“I know.”
The King nodded and smiled.
“Something is not going to go right” Stated the Lieutenant.
“I feel it too, but nobody can come back now”
At these words, the three of them started walking towards the end on the corridor. And jasper, carnelian and jade reverberated on the white walls. A wedding was going to start, and they had to be there.
Will made an unconscious movement and sat on the bed. Darkness was surrounding him.
“Will?” Murmured Clara, turning on the light. She was worried, but Will now remembered why he had to forget.
“Sorry, only a… a strange dream. Go back to sleep, I’ll drink a glass of water and return in a minute” He lied, smiling to her. she nodded sleepily, too tired to notice that his voice was trembling.
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Satanachia Sigil
Sigil of Lucifer wall decor from wood, Wooden Art, Hanging Sign, Seal of Lucifer, Satanic Seal, Church of Satan, Pentagram, Key of Solomon IgniteINC. 5 out of 5 stars (72) $. A sigil (/ ˈ s ɪ dʒ əl /; pl. Sigilla or sigils) is a type of symbol used in ritual magic.The term has usually referred to a type of pictorial signature of a Jinn or other entity. In modern usage, especially in the context of chaos magic, sigil refers to a symbolic representation of the practitioner's desired outcome. Agaliarept, also known as Agalierap, Agalierept, Agalieraps or Agaliareps, is a Great General of Hell alongside Satanachia and one of the demons to directly serve under Lucifer. He is one of the Six Great Officers in Hell, the others being Lucifuge Rofocale, Satanachia, Agaliarept, Fleurety and Sargatanas. He is purported to command the Second Legion of Spirits for the glory of the emperor.
The first list is from the Pseudomonarchia daemonum by Johann Weyer (aka Wier, Wierus), which he included in his De praestigiis daemonum in 1583, and in 1584 Reginald Scot included the same list in The Discoverie of Witchcraft. The second list, the seals, and engravings are from the Goetia at sacred-texts.com - 1904 translation edited by S. MacGregor Mathers.
Goetic seals from the Lesser Key of Solomon
A sigil (/ˈsɪdʒəl/; pl. sigilla or sigils) is a type of symbol used in ritual magic. The term has usually referred to a type of pictorial signature of a Jinn or other entity. In modern usage, especially in the context of chaos magic, sigil refers to a symbolic representation of the practitioner's desired outcome.
History(edit)
72 seals from the Lesser Key of Solomon
The term sigil derives from the Latinsigillum, meaning 'seal'.(1)Skype.
In medieval ceremonial magic, the term sigil was commonly used to refer to occult signs which represented various angels and demons which the witch might summon.(1) The magical training books called grimoires often listed pages of such sigils. A particularly well-known list is in The Lesser Key of Solomon, in which the sigils of the 72 princes of the hierarchy of hell are given for the magician's use. Such sigils were considered to be the equivalent of the true name of the spirit and thus granted the magician a measure of control over the beings.(2)
An excerpt from Sefer Raziel HaMalakh featuring various magical sigils (or סגולות, segulot, in Hebrew).
A common method of creating the sigils of certain spirits was to use kameas (magic squares) — the names of the spirits were converted to numbers, which were then located on the magic square. The locations were then connected by lines, forming an abstract figure.(3)
The word sigil.. has a long history in Western magic. The members of the Golden Dawn were perfectly familiar with it (″combining the letters, the colours, the attributions and their Synthesis, thou mayest build up a telesmatic Image of a Force. The Sigil shall then serve thee for the tracing of a Current which shall call into action a certain Elemental Force″) and it was used in the making of talismans. The sigil was like a signature or sign of an occult entity.(4)
Satanachia Sigil
The use of symbols for magical or cultic purposes has been widespread since at least the Neolithic era. Some examples from other cultures include the yantra from Hindutantra, historical runic magic among the Germanic peoples, or the use of veves in Voudon.
Austin Osman Spare(edit)
Satanachia Sigil
The artist and occultist Austin Osman Spare developed his own unique method of creating and using sigils, which has had a huge effect on modern occultism. Essentially, Spare turned the Medieval practice of using sigils to evoke entities on its head, arguing that such supernatural beings were simply complexes in the unconscious, and could be actively created through the process of sigilization.(5)(4)
The big difference with Spare's method was that he dispensed with pre-existing esoterica and external beliefs, so the sigils were no longer for controlling traditional demons, angels and what-have-you, but instead for controlling forces in the unconscious psyche of the individual operator.(4)
Spare's technique became a cornerstone of chaos magic.(6) It also influenced the artist Brion Gysin, who experimented with combining Spare's sigil method with the traditional form of magic squares:
Calligraphic magick squares were one of the techniques most commonly applied by Gysin. He would reduce a name or an idea to a 'glyph' and then write across the paper from right to left, turn the paper and do the same again, and so on, turning the paper around and around to create a multi-dimensional grid.. The same techniques and consciously driven functional intention also permeated his paintings. In a very real sense, everything he created was an act of sorcery.(7) Home alone 3 on amazon prime.
Chaos magic(edit)
A modern personal sigil.
In chaos magic, following Spare, sigils are most commonly created by writing out the intention, then condensing the letters of the statement down to form a sort of monogram. The chaos magician then uses the gnostic state to 'launch' or 'charge' the sigil – essentially bypassing the conscious mind to implant the desire in the unconscious.(8)(6) To quote Ray Sherwin:
The magician acknowledges a desire, he lists the appropriate symbols and arranges them into an easily visualised glyph. Using any of the gnostic techniques he reifies the sigil and then, by force of will, hurls it into his subconscious from where the sigil can begin to work unencumbered by desire.(8)
After charging the sigil, it is considered necessary to repress all memory of it: in the words of Spare, there should be 'a deliberate striving to forget it'.(5)
Grimorium verum sigils. In modern chaos magic, when a complex of thoughts, desires and intentions gains such a level of sophistication that it appears to operate autonomously from the magician's consciousness, as if it were an independent being, then such a complex is referred to as a servitor.(9)(10) When such a being becomes large enough that it exists independently of any one individual, as a form of 'group mind', then it is referred to as an egregore.(11)(12)
Later chaos magicians have expanded on the basic sigilization technique. Grant Morrison coined the term hypersigil to refer to an extended work of art with magical meaning and willpower, created using adapted processes of sigilization. His comic book series The Invisibles was intended as such a hypersigil.(6) Morrison has also argued that modern corporate logos like 'the McDonald's Golden Arches, the Nike swoosh and the Virgin autograph' are a form of viral sigil:
Corporate sigils are super-breeders. They attack unbranded imaginative space. They invade Red Square, they infest the cranky streets of Tibet, they etch themselves into hairstyles. They breed across clothing, turning people into advertising hoardings.. The logo or brand, like any sigil, is a condensation, a compressed, symbolic summoning up of the world of desire which the corporation intends to represent.. Walt Disney died long ago but his sigil, that familiar, cartoonish signature, persists, carrying its own vast weight of meanings, associations, nostalgia and significance.(6)
See also(edit)
Look up sigil in Wiktionary, the free dictionary.
Wikimedia Commons has media related to Sigils.
References(edit)
Footnotes(edit)
^ abWeschcke, Carl Llewellyn & Slate, Joe H. The Llewellyn Complete Book of Psychic Empowerment
^Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis: The Lesser Key of Solomon, Detailing the Ceremonial Art of Commanding Spirits Both Good and Evil; ed. Joseph H. Peterson; Weiser Books, Maine; 2001. p.xi-xvii
^Greer, John Michael (2003). The New Encyclopedia of The Occult. Llewellyn Worldwide. p. 438. ISBN1-56718-336-0.
^ abcBaker, Phil. Austin Osman Spare
^ abSpare, Austin Osman. The Book of Pleasure
^ abcdMorrison, Grant. Pop Magic!
^P-Orridge, Genesis. Magick Squares and Future Beats
^ abSherwin, Ray. The Book of Results
^Hine, Phil. Prime Chaos
^Marik. Servitors
^Rysen, Fenwick The Fluid Continuum
^Emerson, Gabriel. Egregore Definition Compilation
Sources(edit)
The Book of Pleasure. Austin Osman SpareISBN1-872189-58-X
Liber Null and Psychonaut. Peter CarrollISBN0-87728-639-6
Baker, Phil (2011). Austin Osman Spare: The Life and Legend of London's Lost Artist. Strange Attractor. ISBN9781907222016.
Emerson, Gabriel (1997). 'Egregore Definition Compilation'. Chaos Matrix. Retrieved June 7, 2018.
Hine, Phil (1998). Prime Chaos: Adventures in Chaos Magic. New Falcon Publications. ISBN9781609255299.
Marik (1998). 'Servitors: Part Two of Sigils, Servitors, and Godforms'. Chaos Matrix. Retrieved June 7, 2018.
Morrison, Grant (2003). 'Pop Magic!'. In Metzger, Richard (ed.). Book of Lies: The Disinformation Guide to Magick and the Occult. Red Wheel Weiser. ISBN9780971394278.
P-Orridge, Genesis (2003). 'Magick Squares and Future Beats'. In Metzger, Richard (ed.). Book of Lies: The Disinformation Guide to Magick and the Occult. Red Wheel Weiser. ISBN9780971394278.
Peterson, Joseph H. (ed.), The Lesser Key of Solomon: Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis (York Beach, ME: Weiser Books, 2001). Considered 'the definitive version'
Rysen, Fenwick (1999). 'The Fluid Continuum --or-- What the f***'s an Egregore?'. Chaos Matrix. Retrieved June 7, 2018.
Sherwin, Ray (1992). The Book of Results. Revelations 23 Press. ISBN9781874171003.
Spare, Austin Osman (2013). The Book of Pleasure: The Psychology of Ecstasy. Lulu Press. ISBN9781105502996.
Weschcke, Carl Llewellyn; Slate, Joe H. (2011). The Llewellyn Complete Book of Psychic Empowerment: A Compendium of Tools & Techniques for Growth & Transformation. Llewellyn Worldwide. ISBN9780738729862.
White, Gordon (2012). 'Magic Secrets as Taught by Robot Fish'. Rune Soup. Retrieved June 7, 2018.
White, Gordon (2010). 'Shoaling: Making Sigil Magic more Awesome Since 2010'. Rune Soup. Retrieved June 7, 2018.
El, Moorpheus (2011). 'Secret of Secrets: Reality is Programmable'. Matrix-Five. Retrieved August 28, 2011.
Retrieved from 'https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Sigil&oldid=1015300196'
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Why ‘The Karate Kid Part II’ Deserves More Respect
So guess what film I finished watching today? Of course, the Karate Kid franchise is considered iconic mainly for its first entry; Wax on Wax off, Skeleton fights, Sweep the Leg and the Crane Kick all cemented its legacy that allowed Cobra Kai to also be such a success. But imagine my shock when the approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes for Part II is 45% - 21% lower than the Jaden Smith ‘The Karate Kung Fu Kid’ version (and Part III is scored 15%, which is also super harsh but hard to debate outside of the magnificence of Terry Silver). Originally this was just gonna be a general post of how much I enjoyed retreading Part II, but upon seeing that score I had to give it my ‘Deserves More Respect’ posts.
It is an off-chance, but if you haven’t watched this film there will be spoilers within, I encourage you to watch it before reading, and maybe watch it again if you have so it’s fresh in the mind
Let’s start with a controversial point shall we? There are several parts where Part II is actually better than the original. Now I know! There’s a lot about the original which is iconic, but nostalgia does blind you to other shortcomings and while it’s easy to sell the first part because of its mystique, a sequel has the added pressure of rising above and developing on old and new themes set by the predecessor. The Premise In case you decided against refreshing your memory. Karate Kid Part II starts with a recap of Part I, a bit of content that was meant to be Part I’s final scene (in the script, not for filming) and then a timeskip. Ali with an i is gone - brutally dumping Daniel for some Football Player before Senior Prom and after crashing his car, Daniel’s mother is in Fresno for work and Miyagi has received a letter from his home Okinawa in news of his father’s fading health. The stage is set for Daniel and the audience to learn more about the iconic Mr. Miyagi and the life he left behind. Okay, so there is bad in this film Part II deserves respect, but it’s not perfect. It definitely gets messy near the end with Daniel’s antagonist Chozen, he mainly took beats from Johnny Lawrence in physically confronting Daniel when he could with a bunch of no-named goons and he fought pretty similarly to Johnny in catch counters and leg strikes. The opening recap did take a lot of time too, while the ending remained somewhat abrupt having just beaten up Chozen to embrace Kumiko (who had a delayed recovery after being punched once). While not bad, a fair amount of retreaded content felt like downgrades of the original; Chozen and Sato lacked the charisma of Johnny and Kreese, the crane kick was far more impressive than the drum technique and the Tournament setting was grander than the O-Bon festival. But, there are Iconic Moments in this film too Part I may have the Crane Kick and the Skeletons and the Training and Sweep the Leg. But people may forget that Part II had awesome moments too.
Like Daniel chopping through 6 Sheets of Ice! If that isn’t one hell of a power play I don’t know what is. It is a moment genuinely impressive in and outside of the 80s cheese universe of Karate Kid, and it gets referenced in Season 2 of Cobra Kai.
Also referenced in Season 2 is Miyagi vs Kreese. While this is the intended ending for Part I, it certainly acted better at the start of Part II, especially given that is foreshadows the situation Daniel finds himself in at the end of the movie. This moment is equally iconic as it completely encapsulates the character of both senseis - Kreese the confident brute brought to a sniveling mouse when size and power failed him and Miyagi the cool-headed and vastly more intelligent fighter still with the cheeky prankster lightness to him as he honks the scared shitless Kreese on the nose. Perfect.
While I did want to cite the Tea Ceremony as well I think the more iconic moment for Part II had to be Miyagi chopping the log during the storm. The storm itself is a very well-done scene which unmasks several characters in the face of adversity. True tension, worry and stakes are sold as the village are in danger of the cruel whims of nature, an act which is all too real for Sato when the house he’s in collapses on him in the calm before his scheduled deathmatch with Miyagi. Not only is this again some great foreshadowing by the rule of three (Daniel asking if Miyagi can chop a log like Sato is doing with a banner and then Miyagi and Sato meeting and seeing Sato fail to chop a log) it proves a pivotal point where Sato turns from aggrieved antagonist to repenting ally. A great show of power and friendship as Miyagi metaphorically breaks the rift between their friendship that weighs Sato down. Okay, we hear you, but how is it better? I do have to preface that I do still love Part I, I have to because in pointing out where Part II is better I have to pick at Part I’s faults. While the ending is messy Part II definitely has much better pacing, until the skeletons scene Part I doesn’t really pick up because it has to set up, Part II while it does recap doesn’t need to worry about it. Giving Miyagi the main plot was definitely Part II’s strongest suit. Part I profited from Miyagi being the ‘mysterious old teacher’ but learning a lot more about his humanity and history was engrossing and it allowed positive development for Miyagi and Daniel, especially their bond as a surrogate father and son when Daniel personally goes out of his way to support Miyagi on a very personal matter. The main characters maintain their charm as well, still a lovely array of life lessons in Part II more than just finding balance, Miyagi teaches Daniel through words and action on taking time to breathe, to refocus when imbalanced, to forgive rather than to harbour hate, mercy, selflessness and humbleness
“never put passion before principle. Even if win, you lose.” - Mr. Miyagi
The scenes involving Miyagi and his father were some of the most deep and emotive of the series up until Cobra Kai, some still haven’t been topped such as Miyagi’s dad’s first words to his son or when Daniel talked about when his father died. And say what you will about Chozen, he does have a lot of Johnny vibes but a lot of the character we believed was Johnny due to nostalgia goggles was more fitting of Chozen’s manner. The story did a great job in making sure Chozen was always an asshole, at times Johnny did at least display honour and grace but Chozen was always sore about stuff and quick to claim dishonour even when he was in the wrong. Contrary to Johnny it’s more about his family than it is about a girl, which allowed a lot more freedom in the plot. Whether you felt Elizabeth Shue’s Ali with an i was prettier than Tamlyn Tomita’s Kumiko is up to personal preference, but the messy-haired Kumiko definitely had a slightly improved presence in Part II than Ali did, with actual focus on her own feelings outside of attraction to Daniel, her ambition to become a dancer directly linking to the O-Bon Festival - which in turn related to the Drum technique - as well as the delicately beautiful Tea Ceremony scene and actually contributing to the final fight (granted Ali wouldn’t be allowed to). Also Daniel didn’t try to eat her face which is a general improvement to the romantic subplot, extra applause has to go to Tomita here too because this was legitimately her first role - Shue had her second so that’s impressive too - and both women had good careers going forward. The increased stakes definitely worked in the favour of Part II as well, as sequel culture is forced to do, but by moving to Okinawa (actually filmed in Hawaii) we opened the door to better suit Miyagi’s world while keeping Daniel the fish out of water. I can’t speak too much for appropriation because there is still kinda some ‘white saviour’ undertones but I didn’t feel like Japan was treated negatively in this light, its culture of the O-Bon Festival and the Tea Ceremony was treated with the utmost respect and explained without pandering, the flute music had definitely stepped up its game for the soundtrack as did the imagery. Can also appreciate that Daniel does go for the Crane kick when fighting Chozen but is parried. Added hat tip has to go to costuming too. A lot of costumes would have to have distinct Kamon such as Sato’s twin fish and Miyagi’s bonsai on a lot of their clothing
Between Sato and Miyagi the colours of their clothes often code their emotions towards each other, with Sato usually in grey and Miyagi in white or cream, when Sato and Miyagi prepare for death they are in black and when Sato wants forgiveness he moves to a lighter shade. While Part I also used black and white to differ Johnny and Daniel, Part II put Chozen and Daniel in the more Japanese-themed Red and Blue. While both men wear red, blue and whites at time, Chozen’s clothes almost devolve from the white he debuts in as his darker side comes out before flat out embracing yellow after his chance to prove his honour in the storm is refused (and he’s in white then), while Daniel often moves to Red or red tones even in his blue shirt. Kumiko also moves from white to blue, sometimes even purple, in set up to the final fight to have the primary colours stand out in the colourful crowd of the O-Bon festival, but even in the blue Kumiko had red to pair her connection with Daniel. Also her Yukata at the festival is just stunning, the Great Wave off Kanagawa print is a nice touch.
Anything else we should know? It might not be much else about the film itself I can tell you, but I do appreciate something I’m starting to call ‘The Rocky Connection’ when it comes to Karate Kid. Like Part I’s ‘You’re the Best (Around)’ was shortlisted for Rocky III, Part II’s song ‘Glory of Love’ was shortlisted for Rocky IV’s theme, losing to ‘Hearts on Fire’, Bill Conti also chose to score this film instead of Rocky IV. I like to pair this with Daniel’s Rocky-esque character, he has that same kind of swagger but a lot more naive and childlike. Martin Kove also gets a nod because those bleeding hands were legit, he had an accident on-set and the footage was kept for the final cut. Tamlyn Tomita wasn’t the only film debut for Part II, B.D. Wong of...well, several famous roles including but not limited to Shang in the animated Mulan, Dr. Wu in the Jurassic Park franchise, Hugo Strange in Gotham and many more, also had his debut here in a minor speaking role when he’s handing out flyers for the dance party to Kumiko and Daniel before the Ice Chopping Scene. So, why does it deserve respect A film that adds to a beloved character in a respectful fashion without having really any god awful moments does not deserve a 4.5/10 rating. It may not have as emphatic an ending or as great a villain but it has a captivating plot and a good pace, better stakes and much more emotionally driven and responsive scenes. A lot of effort and dedication went into this film to explore new dimensions of the main characters in a fashion which was enjoyable and at times heartwarming. And characters are given human moments, even Miyagi confesses himself not to be perfect and it keeps each character grounded. Even to this day parts of Part II are remembered fondly rather than the campness that Part III had outside of Terry Silver and his magnificent ponytail, the fondness also continues to reflect in Cobra Kai with homages and fan theories of Daniel going to Okinawa again and even re-encountering Chozen. Not to mention it grossed $113m on a $13m budget and got nominated for a Best Original Song Oscar (losing to Top Gun) Part II was a good and enjoyable film which deserves far more credit than to be rated this low, for that it deserves respect.
#karate kid#karate kid part ii#karate kid 2#daniel larusso#ralph macchio#mr miyagi#pat morita#chozen#yuji okumoto#kumiko#tamlyn tomita#sato#danny kamekona#john kreese#martin kove#johnny lawrence#billy zabka#yukie#nobu mccarthy#cobra kai
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Lie to Me Theory: Music Video
Start Here: Lie to Me Theory: Timeline
There is no way to beat around this part of theory. It must be approached directly and bravely. All of what has happened in the timeline to here has left people distracted. So no one would be looking for the ultimate truth in a video about lying. Luke is singing. He addresses four different people. Everyone is represented by cars: three different parties. Two different agendas for being in relationships. All stemming from one reason.
First we need to talk about the two truly significant elements of the Lie to Me Music Video: the lyrics and the center car.
What do we mean by lyrics? The ones available on AZlyrics or Genius? The ones they’re singing? Not this time.
From the video description.
Artist frequently put their lyrics in the description of their videos. 5SOS does this on a number of their videos. This is the only one of their videos where the lyrics in the description 1. from a different version of the song and 2. have a typo in them
Here is one of the screenshots of the LTM Official MV that I took.
These were the official lyrics that Ashton, Calum and Luke wrote with Ali Tamposi. And then a very talented and good female singer, Julia Michaels, was brought in so they could make the official lyrics publicly available
It is strange that they would do this. Why not just leave both versions of the lyrics under the proper versions of each video? Unless the lyrics of the official audio version aren’t actually the right lyrics.
It is careless and weird that the grammar on most of their videos (all of their other music videos) is good and then suddenly on LTM the first typo on a music video appears. They would have caught it and fixed it by now, surely.
These boys don’t know how to spell “Change” huh? ‘Chang’
Don’t know how to edit the description of a YouTube video? Forgot to? Don’t care to? Remember when Michael told Luke on twitter to go back to school.
Change is the only word mispelled in the description of any of their music videos...because the lyrics were “Changed.”
Yes, it is entirely possible something this cryptic occurred.
Think Think Think
The cleverness within this band should not be underestimated. Time and time again, artists under Modest! have used covert means to convey the truth of their situations without the majority of their audiences noticing.
These in the description are the original lyrics of LTM. The lyrics of the official release were changed to fit the image that management wanted to promote. This seems to be the implication, so interpretation of the music video rests on these lyrics and not the ones they are singing.
Symbolic Cars
This part was easy for people to pick up on.
Represented on the passenger side of the center car by 96 like Hemmo1996.
Then there’s the other side of the car.
Represented on the driver’s side of the center car by these two lower-cased letters: ae. So who’s ae?
There are a number of options for people special enough in Luke’s life that he might want in the car with him, in fact, a person he cares enough about that that person might be the driver. A person with ae in their name. So there’s a lot of those. What narrows down the options is that ae is a person who is close to Luke but in the same situation as Luke. They are both circled by cars that represent threats to their wellbeing. So you can decide who ae is. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this video was released the week of Michael Clifford’s engagement. That would be ludicrous.
Now we can talk about the video story
L can see the mess before he agrees to be a part of it. The two cars are already circling like sharks before he gets into the car. He still gets into the car, sitting in the backseat. He’s surrendered for the next half of the video. Pain and heartbreak etched into his face.
The circling cars represent “toxic people” like Ashton clued. So the circling cars are toxic relations.
He addresses the first chorus primarily to the circling car with toxic person #1. This is a person who left him not only emotionally fraught but publicly humiliated him and scarred his reputation, then dropped all responsibility for fun and left him to do the clean up.
And now I wish we never met
because you are too hard to forget
While I’m cleaning up your mess
I know he’s taking off your dress
And I know that you don’t, but if I ask you if you love me
I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me
The easy interpretation:
1. The person involved is sleeping with someone else but L isn’t angry that he’s been betrayed. Maybe because he loves her so much he could even forgive that...or maybe because he actually never loved her.
2. Her marks on his life still causes a lot of grief because she publicly humiliated him and took no responsibility, so this is why all his regret stems from being stuck in the dump she threw him into
3. But he’s in communication with her---so he can ask her questions. Like if she still loves him. But that doesn’t make sense if he didn’t even like her that much.
“LTM represents when someone is in a relationship for something other than what you are there for.” Like fame or publicity, but Luke is using her for something else entirely.
Luke was being used because he was in a vulnerable situation. He still is in a vulnerable situation. It made it easy for others to hurt him but he didn’t rely on them.
He starts by regretting the toxic relationship, but in these last two lines, he is turning to a different person, his person.
Luke’s voice lifts at the end of each chorus as he turns to his last hope. “And I know that you don’t” because he sees how disgusted the person must be by the situation “but if I ask you if you love me, I hope you lie...” I hope you’ll love me. Despite how much you couldn’t--don’t like me.
It’s 3 am and the moonlight’s testing me
I know you’ve been holding onto someone else
And now I can’t sleep (Ah)
I ain’t happy, oh
I ain’t too happy, oh
This verse starts immediately after the first time we get to see the driver’s side of the car where it says ae. This is extremely coincidental. It’s shifting focus onto another person.
So he’s addresses ae basically, ‘I feel tested. I’ve turned to you and begged you to take me, but you’ve been acting like me, holding on to the same stories I’ve been through with a toxic person. It worries me. I am not happy. But I am also not mad at you.’
Luke holds back from accusing ae even though he would like to. He is wounded again by ae’s actions but he does not want to outright blame ae for the situation that they are both stuck in the center of.
Flashing back to New York City
Chang your flight so you stay with me
Remember thinking that I got this right
‘Flashing back’ is when we recall memories. Nostalgia sets in for a better time. The first pre-chorus, Luke has a balance he is reminiscing about when he at the time thought he could balance both of his relationships perfectly. There was turmoil of course--the need to re-negotiate flights because of a mess up with leaving to New York--but it was alright after that and that’s why he was led into a false sense of security that he got this “right.” Did anyone ever have to change flights when they were trying to leave New York city because of a mistake.
It’s funny that I thought this typo was on purpose because the official lyric again is ‘Change your flight so you stay with me’ but if it was really meant to be ‘changed’ then it would fit a dual purpose, warning us about the lyric flop and talking about that one time someone had their flight changed when they were trying to stay with Luke too. I’m dropping hints like bombs but I’m not saying what I’m talking about yet and it’s hilarious and terrible. Later post I promise.
Flashing back to New York City
I was done but you undid me
Classic me to run when it feels right
The second time, Luke runs away from New York City, symbol of stability and security within his relationship with ae. He was done--he didn’t have any interest in connection with any of the toxic ones--but you undid me--again the theme of being humiliated and having a slaughtered reputation, the pain that goes with that. And now after the 3am verse Luke is with ae, and done with TP #1, but ae’s ‘someone else,’ the second circling car, the other toxic person, is there to ruin Luke’s life again but by being attached to ae. This time Luke wants out. He’s so done already but this person is causing him double the agony that the last one did because he’s involving someone he cares for deeply. And he leaves the car before either of the circling cars smash into it. There is no Luke to hurt. Luke got out when “it feels right.” He knew this time that things were going well with ae but he gave up on ae because he was tired.
While Luke was humiliated, and went through a great deal of grief because of his toxic relationship, at no time during the car collisions do we see 96. Instead, the footage of the driver’s side of the car with the prominent ae is flipped so it looks as though the wheel of the car is on the right side passenger side of the car. It’s as though everything that once applied to Luke’s situation now applies to ae’s cause holy shit.
As it turns out, ae takes the hardest hit. The tempo is the most upbeat it was the entire video during the last chorus. Luke is still surrendered to the situation but he’s protesting against the way they have been treated. Now all the boys are united, not just watching Luke. They’re all supporting each other. Luke is talking to Toxic Relationship person 2 in this chorus. He is stronger now. He’s done this before and the boys are supporting him. He’s standing up for ae.
Last chorus:
Now I wish we never met
'Cause you're too hard to forget
While he's taking off my dress
I know she's laying on your chest
The relationship between himself and ae is the strongest it’s ever been, but even when ae’s taking off Luke’s clothes, Luke can tell that ae’s toxic relationship weighs on his heart. It is as though she is laying on his chest like depression weighs on the heart. Also this is gay if it’s real.
Final verses:
I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me
I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me
Singing, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie (Yeah yeah)
I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me
I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me
The last part “I know that you don’t....” is repeated twice with many desperate pleas for lies. It is repeated twice for both types of relationships: toxic and ae.
For toxic, he hopes that they pretend that they love him. He’ll even sing their lies. For ae, he hopes whenever they are in public playing their games of animosity, if he ever slips up and does something loving or a giveaway, he hopes ae will lie about loving Luke too and follow through playing their pretend game of hate because it’s the only way to avoid making the situation worse, and that’s the one thing the management and the boys want.
Then the car explodes
Because he knows, they know, it’s not going to work. All the lies are going to blow them up. So the car explodes. Showing ae. The lies literally made ae explode.
An hour after the Lie to Me Music Video premieres, Michael’s fiancee announces publicly that they are engaged.
Take care everyone :) tpwk including you
#5sos#5 seconds of summer#lie to me#Luke Hemmings#Michael Clifford#ashton irwin#calum hood#lie to me theory#muke#muke clemmings#kaleidoscope heart and soul#real fans save bands
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Robin Guthrie & Harold Budd – Mysterious Skin: Music From The Film
May 24, 2005 (Commotion)
Ambient music is a universal language. Whether you play it in the background while you work, study or fall asleep, or put on headphones and hone in on each intricate detail, it could be the one genre of music that speaks directly to the soul. It is music stripped to its bare elements, with arrangements that build upon the simple noises we hear in our day-to-day lives: rustling leaves, running water, buzzing machinery, and other sounds we often forget to appreciate. I believe that’s why ambient music has the ability to connect with everyone – listening to it is a spiritual experience that transcends any spoken language. It centres us, amplifying any underlying emotions that we are currently feeling, and bringing us closer to the physical world around us.
Mysterious Skin: Music From The Film succeeds at the above purpose more than any other piece of music I’ve heard before.
An amazing film score serves to amplify the film’s themes, plot and character development, but can also stand on its own two legs as a fantastic piece of music. I consider Mysterious Skin to be one of my favourite movies of all time, but I haven’t rewatched it in years because of how intense and graphic it is at times. I’ve listened to Guthrie and Budd’s score countless times since last viewing the film, but still to this day it evokes the same feelings that main characters Neil and Brian feel throughout their journey. The same alienation, the same despair, the same trauma and subsequent path to recovery.
To quote director Gregg Araki, “It was less important for the music to underline narrative action than it was for music to define and authenticate the film for the audience.”
To this day, the song “Snowfall” takes me back to the scene in the film where it is deployed: two teenage characters hanging out at night in an empty drive-in, reflecting on the decisions they’ve made so far in their lives and feeling all the anxieties surrounding their coming of age. The song’s two-minute build up mirrors the contemplation of the protagonists, and the listener experiences the same uneasiness and mystery through the guitar timbre and reverb, which are employed specifically to conjure these emotions. And then, out of nowhere, snow starts falling. It is a moment of catharsis in both the film and the song, with the build-up leading to a sequence of cascading guitar arpeggios that so perfectly put to music the image of snowflakes gently falling on a field. For the three blissful remaining minutes of “Snowfall”, you share the same sentiment as the characters in the film: Hope. Everything is going to be okay.
Even for someone coming across this score who has never watched Mysterious Skin, I believe it has the power to tap into your emotions and gift you a greater understanding of yourself. Harold Budd’s piano motifs on songs like “Brian’s Nightmare” and “The Discovery” place a feeling of dread deep inside the stomach of the listener, which strongly juxtaposes against the more restless and hopeful Robin Guthrie-led moments on “Goodbye To Wendy” and “Loitering”. This duality likely stems from Guthrie’s guitar and Budd’s piano each carrying such a distinct tone and mood, yet so rarely interacting directly with each other on individual tracks. The score is warm and inviting, and yet cold and distant at the same time – this feeling of being at odds with oneself is immediately relatable to anyone who has grown up in a small town, started a new job without knowing anyone else, or lived the queer coming of age experience.
Personally, the film score takes me to two places. The first is a liminal space: I’m walking by a lake and it’s a familiar setting, but I feel alone… nobody else that I know is there with me. Maybe these are actual latent feelings from my youth, or maybe the sonic nostalgia is so powerful that it’s creating memories that never existed. I’m not sure.
The second place is to my best friend’s house, lying on a bed together at 3am while the film score lulls us to sleep. I look around at the four walls surrounding me, at the night sky through the window, and at my friends who I love, and I’m grateful for the music opening my soul and letting me take it all in so richly. I feel closer than ever before.
Favourite track: “Snowfall”
Rating: 10 out of 10
#robin guthrie & harold budd#mysterious skin: music from the film#album review#music review#10#robin guthrie#harold budd#mysterious skin
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Middle of the Night
A/N: I know it’s late. (For me at least) But I really wanna post this. I’ve been sitting on it and finally finished it. This new movie coming out is really inspiring man. Anyways! Here’s part 2 of Good Side. It’s sad. But also fluffy. The song used is by The Vamps by the way.
Part 1
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The night started as well as Eddie could’ve hoped. It was a relatively small concert, probably only 300 people. So Eddie got a spot right at the front. He’d never allowed himself to go to a Trashmouth concert so he was a little excited honestly. Even if he was upset with Richie, he still thought the band was extremely talented. They came on stage and it was like a magnet pulled Richie’s attention straight to him. They locked eyes and an expression only describable as pure and utter shock fell on Richie’s face. Richie shook his head as if to regain focus and walked to the mic. ‘How’s everyone doing tonight?!’ He was smiling and waving with his guitar hanging by the strap. Eddie wasn’t completely sure but he could’ve sworn the smile never met Richie’s eye. He would know a true Richie Tozier smile. The crowd went nuts regardless and Eddie was just glad he’d remembered his ear plugs. ‘I’m so happy to hear that, we are Trashmouth and we’re gonna rock your world!’ Que more screams from the crowd. ‘I hope you don’t mind if we start it off with a brand new song.’ Richie’s smile still not meeting his eyes, he started strumming as the band came in.
I keep coming back to that moment
Where it all fell apart
So I try and drink my emotions
Till I can't feel my heart
Another sad song. Eddie could tell the crowd wasn’t too into it. A song about another lost love. They probably expected a more upbeat opener but they cheered anyways. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off Richie. His lips slightly touching the mic and his vocals came out a little breathless. He kept his eyes forward, and Eddie could only assume he was cause. His eyes slid closed as the beat picked up slightly and his voice seemed to grow in confidence.
And I don't understand
How you slipped through my hands
And I do all I can
To get you out of my head
That was all the crowd needed to go crazy once more. Eddie couldn’t help but cringe at the sudden mass scream. Even ear plugs couldn’t save him from that outburst. The lights faded to a deep blue and purple as they danced across the stage. All Eddie could think was how perfect Richie looked up there. He truly did belong on stage. Seeing Richie again was like a slap of nostalgia, right in the face. A distant memory of late nights on his roof with Richie and his guitar. ‘I’m going somewhere someday Eds. That I promise you. Someday it’ll be me and this guitar,’ slapping the soft beige acoustic in his lap. It was unmistakably Richie’s. A faded weed sticker barely sticking out behind a newer alien, because Maggie hated the stoner vibe, and Richie’s own cat scratch in the corner spelling out Losers for his ‘real family’.
So when I call you in the middle of the night
And I'm choking on the words 'cause I miss you
Baby, don't tell me I'm out of time
I got so much of my loving to give you
Seeing Richie was understandably a little overwhelming. Eddie didn’t know what he was thinking, coming here, pretending it would be easy to feel all these emotions again. Before long the opener was over and Richie was talking into the mic again. ‘That was Middle of The Night. I wrote it for the new album coming out next month. Thank you for coming. Truly, this is my favorite thing to do. And I get to do it with all of you.’ Another scream from the crowd. Eddie couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in Richie’s voice. He knew he belonged up there. The concert continued for a few more songs. The older, more upbeat ones that the crowd went crazy for. Eddie even found himself singing along to a few. Even if seeing Richie was hard, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself. Trashmouth was amazing. Especially live.
In the middle of the night
In the middle of the night
I need you
In the middle of the night
Eddie wasn’t sure but he swore Richie glanced his way quite often. A few times a song maybe. But maybe that was wishful thinking. The house lights came up as Richie asked for a little light to see all the beautiful faces. He glanced over the crowd, definitely looking at Eddie this time before speaking. ‘Stunning absolutely stunning.’ Richie almost whispered into the mic. Staring directly at Eddie like it was a secret just for them. The edge of his lips gliding softly against the mic. A few faces around him glanced Eddie’s direction to see who Richie was staring at, but most the crowd just erupted into cheers.
I've got no good explanation
For what I put you through
Managing my expectations
Is what I never do
All the lights faded as Richie was illuminated by a single spot light. The stage help brought out a stool and a familiar guitar. It was definitely Richie’s extremely old acoustic. The weed and alien stickers still present, but joined by a Trashmouth sticker and even more chicken scratch. He couldn’t quite make out the words but he knew the writing. ‘This next song is very dear to me. I wrote it at a great place in my career and a not so great place in my life. This is Good Side.’ Eddie knew it well at this point. It had quickly became his favorite Trashmouth track. It was tragic, and maybe Eddie related to it, or maybe he just understood this one better than the rest. Richie’s voice seemed to fill the entire space. People bringing out their lighters to sway along to the beat. But Richie’s gaze never once left Eddie’s. He felt like the only one in the entire venue, it was almost intimate. The longer the song went on the harder it was for Eddie to keep looking. Richie’s face was screaming emotion; once again Eddie felt the pain flow through his body. He suddenly felt trapped.
Yeah, and I don't understand
How you slipped through my hands
And I'm trying all I can
To forget you again
The room seemed to close in on him. The longer Richie stared the tighter his throat felt. He shouldn’t have came. This was a mistake. His breathing came out in short pants. Was he hyperventilating? The air just wasn’t filling his lungs. He hasn’t had this problem since he was 14. Eddie subconsciously checked his pockets for his inhaler. Panic seeped into his veins as he realized he didn’t have one. Wait. He hasn’t had one since middle school. He needed to get out of here. Right now. As Richie began the chorus he was radiating sadness, and his eyes slipped closed. Eddie took that as his cue to get the fuck out. He immediately turned and started pushing his way through the crowd. As he reached the middle of the crowd there was a sudden silence. ‘Eddie! Wait!’
So when I call you in the middle of the night
And I'm choking on the words 'cause I miss you
Baby, don't tell me I'm out of time
I got so much of my loving to give you
He didn’t wait.
In the middle of the night
In the middle of the night
I need you
His feet carried him out of the venue and into the storm. It didn’t take long for the tears to fall. There he was. Richie Tozier was right in front of him for the first time in 7 years. He was 18 when Richie left Derry. When Richie left him. This memory always hurt the most. The sky was dark with clouds as it poured down on the two teenagers sat on the roof. Neither boy was sure where their tears ended and the rain began. ‘What do you mean you’re leaving?’ Eddie hiccuped. ‘Eds, please. We got the opportunity of a lifetime. I have to take this. I thought you’d be happy for me.’ They might’ve been arguing but both seemed to need the comfort of the other. Tangled in limbs, the world seemed to stop. ‘Of course I’m happy for you Chee. But why do you have to leave tomorrow? Why couldn’t you tell me sooner? How could you spring this on me so suddenly and think I would be okay? You’re. You’re leaving Rich. And I can’t go with you. I was supposed to go with you.’ Their was a heavy sigh as Richie began untangling himself and standing up. ‘I should’ve had the guts to tell you sooner. But I didn’t. Maybe it’s for the best. You not coming with me, I mean. If this deal doesn’t turn out the way we hope, I’ll be just another wannabe. No one wants a wannabe.’ Richie was already climbing back inside Eddie’s room before Eddie could even comprehend what was happening. ‘I don’t care what you become. Rags or riches, I want you Richie. Our lives together are just beginning.’ But it was too late. Richie was already sliding past the doorway. ‘You don’t want me Eds. You shouldn’t want me.’ Eddie tripped over himself as he climbed back through his window. Running to his bedroom door. ‘Richie! Wait!’ He didn’t wait. Eddie couldn’t help but see the similarities between tonight and that night. The rain. The tears. The pain. He continued walking the streets of New York City; past the bus stop, past the subway, even past his apartment. He needed this walk. Pain was easier when you had something else to occupy your time. It was half past two in the morning before he decided he should go home. He’d already walked to multiple parks and down multiple streets in the 2 hours he’d been out. Part of Eddie wished he was back in a small town, just so he’d be alone this late at night. The hustle and bustle of a city is something Eddie would never be used to. Too many people.
So when I call you in the middle of the night
And I'm choking on the words 'cause I miss you
Baby, don't tell me I'm out of time
I got so much of my loving to give you
*Ring* Who could possibly be calling right now? Eddie checked his phone to see an unfamiliar number illuminating his screen. Without even thinking, his thumb slid to answer. ‘Hello?’ He tried his best to sound like he hadn’t been crying for hours. ‘Eds. Please don’t hang up.’ Maybe answering was a mistake too. ‘R-Richie?’ His voice cracked. He was hyperventilating again. ‘Hi. I’m sorry to call you so late. I saw you at the show...wait, you knew that. Of course you knew that. Shit. I’m sorry. Again. You probably don’t want to hear from me. Or maybe you do? Is that why you came?’ Richie was rambling. He always rambled when he was stoned. Another memory of a small basement and a joint flashed through Eddie’s head. He’d never heard of shotgunning before that day, but Richie was a good teacher. He couldn’t help the smile amongst his tears. ‘Maybe.’ That was all that came out. So much to say but he didn’t trust his voice. ‘I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. I was too stubborn back then. I didn’t think I deserved you. What if I never made it? I could never give you the life you deserved. Eddie you deserve the world. I’d give you the stars if I could. I-I lov...I mean. I lost you that day, and I’ve never forgiven myself for it.’ Eddie was practically home by now, maybe 2 minutes away, but as he rounded onto his street he could see a figure standing at his complex door.
In the middle of the night
In the middle of the night
I need you
‘Where are you right now Chee?’ ‘I came to talk. If you’d let me.’ Without realizing Eddie had picked up speed and was speed walking to his doorstep. ‘Yes. We can talk. I’m coming.’ And with that he hung up. Slipping his phone into his pocket, he took off. Richie stood there, hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans, and a cigarette between his fingers. ‘Those will kill you, you know?’ Richie’s head whipped up at the sound. He snuffed out the cig as Eddie approached. ‘Nasty habit... You look good Eds....sorry. I-I shouldn’t have said that.’ The rain continued to fall, and Eddie was sure he’d be sick tomorrow. ‘Come inside. I’ll get you some clothes. We’ll get sick if we stay out here.’ As he moved past Richie, a hand gripped his wrist and gently spun him around. ‘Wait. I need you to understand. I always...I never meant to...I thought you deserved more than I could give, and I didn’t even give you a chance to change my mind. I’ve spent 7 years of my life missing you, and I don’t want to spend another 7 seconds without you. I shouldn’t be springing this on you now, but my only regret is walking away from you. From our lives together.’ ‘Chee...’ He was already closing the distance between them. His wrist slipped out of Richie’s hold as he took a step forward. Eddie caressed his face softly, getting up on his tip toes as he brought their noses together. ‘You really love rambling, trashmouth.’ Richie’s lips curled into a small smile. ‘Can’t help myself. I panic.’ It was Eddie’s turn to smile, after 7 years he still couldn’t help but feel fond of the taller boy in front of him. Before Richie could say another word, he was leaning in. Their lips touched in a soft kiss. Eddie remembered these lips, often dreamt of these lips. He pulled away quickly, but still with a smile. ‘Still can’t afford chapstick with that rock star salary?’ Richie let out a real genuine laugh, something Eddie was sure he’d never get tired of. Without another word, Richie followed Eddie inside. Hand in hand, maybe this was the real beginning.
-Taglist
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#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#kat writes#reddie fanfiction#reddie fanfic#reddie fic#i kinda hate this and kinda love it
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Heathers & Gargoyles A complete rewrite of Riverdale Season 3
A game, a cult, a murder. Sounds like a stereotypical october for the town of Riverdale. Yet when Betty, Jughead, Veronica, and newly freed-from-juvie Archie are recruited to join the increasingly dangerous game of Griffins and Gargoyles, they find themselves dodging assassinations and deadly traps designed to keep them on a pre-determined story path. Left without the help of their brainwashed allies, the core four must work in the shadows to stop the rising body count and unmask the King of Gargoyles before their story is finished.
Prologue Previous Chapter[none] | Read it on AO3
The summer leading up to junior year was like so many others in Riverdale; days spent by Sweetwater River were long and hot. Fireflies doubled the stars in the sky and the scent of wood smoke hung on the midnight air. Pink-grey dawns, filled with the song of birds and dewy treks through the forest while dusks of deep golds and purples painted the skies above countless barbeques and fireworks. The town, for once, seemed happy. Normal, if they could ever grasp the concept of ‘normal’ again. At least… most of the town.
Only in private spaces and shadowy corners was the dark cloud hanging over the community mentioned, as if the town itself wanted to forget, wanted to push away the very thought another tragedy could happen to a child everyone knew, grew up with, and loved. Though the town believed his innocence whole heartedly, they forgot about him the way one forgets a traumatic memory; slow, reluctant, and silent.
In the spaces where his cloud loomed darkest, Betty worked as an intern for Mary Andrews, putting her legal and investigative prowess to test in a more lawful setting than she was used to. She spent her days reading through old case files, police reports, and transcripts of similar court cases, analyzing and decoding the vast arrays of information into easily digestible chunks. Shorthand and stenotypy became her new language and, though she interacted daily with her friends, the codes of court ruled her consciousness until the August hearing.
On the other side of town, Jughead put the Serpents to work collecting the not-so-legally obtained evidence and testimonies they were used to. Vigilantism was almost a comfort in the wake of Archie’s hanging shadow, a line of work Jughead threw himself into fully. There was a normalcy to it, a sense of nostalgia that ate away the trauma and suffering they had endured in the years since entering high school.
Hyperfixation eating the peripherals of his awareness, it wasn’t until the final weeks that Serpent King Jughead Jones realized the absence of many of his members. He expected Toni and Cheryl; they spent more time together these days than the rest of the gang, though Jughead didn’t mind. He’d be hypocritical if he did given the time he and Betty and spent alone. However, as August grew from summer gold to deep early autumn red, the absence of Sweet Pea and Fangs caught his attention first.
Jughead would visit their homes in the afternoons and evenings and most of the time, there was no one home. They were often missing from the Serpent gatherings and communal activities, and their reports were brief when he asked favors or gave them a task. By the final weekend of summer vacation, Sweet Pea and Fangs had garnered a following of a dozen young Serpents, high schoolers or younger. All missing when Jughead needed them, all caught returning home or showing up to community meetings late and covered in dirt and various forest remnants.
Though Jughead wouldn’t have known, it wasn’t just the Serpents undergoing this odd shift in youth attention-span. Veronica witnessed it too as her speakeasy, La Bonne Nuit, came to life under the floors of Pops’. Summer jobs, like most small all-American towns, were the pinnacle of high school vacation culture, and Veronica graciously contributed by hiring many of her classmates to help work on the place. This was, after all, a place for all of them to recover from the tragedies befallen the youth of the town.
Yet, as with the Serpents, many of them started skipping shifts, missing work hours, seemingly uncaring about their work or their pay as August bloomed to life. Though Veronica was not an aggressive person by nature, when she confronted their lack of vigor, she often left frustrated with no answers and a short staff. With her own attention torn between her project and her unjustly imprisoned boyfriend, the progress of La Bonne Nuit slowed to a crawl.
Veronica was not the only person frustrated by this; her father had taken an interest in the speakeasy's construction and was growing worse at hiding his impatience as the month progressed toward the looming trial. His heed had not gone unchecked, but Veronica ignored it for the time being, not wanting to confront the man who probably put her boyfriend behind bars. It wasn’t difficult to avoid him these days; after school concluded the previous year, he’d also vanished for periods of time.
“Business stuff,” he always said, a strange answer as he’d usually explain what the business was to her. The mystery and curtness was unusual, making his curiosity in her own projects even more grating. She finally stopped him the day before the trial, his judgement entering the speakeasy after 24 hours or longer missing from home.
“Daddy.” She greeted him with a mirror of his increasingly formal demeanor.
“Good morning, Mija.” He forced informality as he approached the counter where she stood, rubbing dark stain into the wooden top. The smile on his didn’t reach his eyes, the wrinkles in his crow's feet and heavy brow ridge remaining flat and expressionless, “How is everything going today?”
She didn’t answer him, side-eying his suit as she focused more on the counter. Though he wore suits often, he was more dressed up than usual, and Veronica could already feel the judgement at seeing her helping with the work. Instead she asked, trying to keep the malice from her voice,
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I had to have an emergency meeting with a business partner.” He was lying, Veronica knew, though she couldn’t prove it. She just could tell from the way his back straightened and his hands clenched and the vein in his neck pulsed against skin as he swallowed.
“The same business partner that’s been dragging you away all summer, I presume?”
Her father let out a tense sigh, his eyes leaving her face. His shoulders slumped slightly and for the first time that summer he looked as tired as she felt. A manipulation tactic, yet Veronica couldn’t help feel that twinge of pity deep in her chest for her dear old father. She put down the stain rag and wiped her hands on the apron around her waist, the deep mahogany brown leaving streaks on the off-white canvas.
“We’re having a bit of… a setback,” He met her gaze again, his eyes sharp as he thought about his partner with clear scorn, “Their facility is not being built properly and they’re refusing to send their employees elsewhere. It’s wasting a lot of time and money. I thought you might be able to relate.”
Veronica physically shrunk inward, the passive-aggressive swing pulling the pity straight from her torso and her self-esteem with it. She wrung the rag through her fingers again, looking down at the counter. Angry fire smoldered in the pit of her stomach in the sting of his words and she shook her head,
“No, I’m sorry. Things have been progressing just fine here.”
“Hmm…” Hiram looked skeptically at the unfinished furniture and the sparse employees laying wooden planks on the raised stage, the centerpiece for the room. His scrutiny turned back to her stained hands and the dark, unfinished splotches of the bar counter, “Well, for your sake I hope so.”
“Why are you really here? To judge how quickly we’re getting this set up and running?” Hiram looked taken aback by her sudden bite but those smolders of anger were bursting to life now.
“Two days ago the facility that is being built outside of Greendale was broken into. I figured you should know, since you’re in the same boat.”
Veronica rolled her eyes at the guilting; she had already heard about the break-in. That’s why she was working and not preparing for tomorrow’s trial like she should’ve been.
“Thank you for your concern, but I think we’ll be fine.”
Their conversation dragged on with as few words as possible, filled with vitriol and disdain. Even the boys laying the woodwork into the stage glanced over at the tension every so often felt it. Hiram finally decided his chiding was over and left with tense shoulders and a silent goodbye, and Veronica wouldn’t see him until the next day in the trial.
The entire town appeared to crowd around the courthouse that morning, as many bodies as possible squeezing into the seats and the hallway to hear the case of their beloved golden boy. Betty sat with Archie, anxiety overwhelming her relief to see him as they brought him into the room, his mother on his other side clutching his hand as tightly as possible. Jughead and Ronnie sat directly behind him, happy to see him but as anxious as Betty to his left. This could be worse, he thought.
All summer he was back and forth between holding cells, interrogation and visitation rooms, and court. Whatever the sentencing was, Archie was glad this would be over with. He knew he was innocent. His loved ones knew, and from the supportive looks around the room, everyone else did too.
For six grueling hours, Archie, Betty, Veronica, Jughead, and the rest of the town of Riverdale sat through recounts of their recent tragedies. The death of Jason Blossom, Archie’s vigilantism, the Black Hood murders, and their apparent involvement in major crimes over the past two years.
The word ‘guilty’ stung the hearts of everyone in the room when the jury announced the verdict late that afternoon. Though the weight of reality was still a shock, Veronica knew as soon as the jury entered the room after deliberation. They made up their minds long before that…. Or had someone make it up for them.
At Archie’s request, the four had one more day together, then he left, hauled away to juvie the day before the start of their junior year. That looming cloud returned, and the halls of Riverdale High felt empty, heavy, and dark.
In that darkness, something new and dangerous grew; a monster with stone horns and skull mask. A game where everyone was a player, whether or not they knew it. It started as groups of nerds huddled around an upright-standing folder at lunch tables. Here and there a faint, excited whisper of demons and puzzles.
Jughead and Veronica often found their missing bodies among these secretive spaces. They’d started skipping their Serpent jackets and sports-branded sweaters for odd, costume-like clothing and black hood.
“We’re playing Griffins and Gargoyles.” Sweet Pea told Jughead one day when he’d tried to pry his way into the group.
“What’s that… like Dungeons and Dragons?” Jughead frowned, regarding the map spread out between the ‘players’. They exchanged nervous glances as he asked.
“Um… kind of. But you have to be initiated to play.”
“How do I get initiated?” Not that he wanted to be… the question was more out of curiosity about his former family.
“You wait.” The unfamiliar girl behind the erected folder wall cut in before Sweet Pea could think to respond. Her blue eyes sliced through him under her shadowy black hood. “You wait for the Gargoyle King to call you.”
Veronica had a similarly chilling encounter when players brought the game to work. The Acolytes, so called for their worship of this mysterious Gargoyle King, multiplied like cockroaches over the first week of school. As a virus spreads, so did the game throughout Riverdale High, recruiting more and more players and attracting the “Deathknights” who watched the school grounds with stone masks and tattered black clothes.
At the surface, it appeared to be just another fun roleplaying game. Underneath, though, lay a labyrinth of danger, destruction, and crime the town’s youth grew entangled in, unable to escape. It was not a game; it was anarchy.
The school became ground-zero for the cult-like following of the game, and Betty, Jughead, Veronica tried their best to navigate their first weeks of school together, away from the rest of their friends who quickly got sucked into the Gargoyle King’s clutches. Cheryl was among the loudest recruiters after being chosen for initiation early in the game. To their surprise, Ethel was as loud as the school’s resident HBIC.
Halls and classrooms became littered, eventually decorated, with iconography, various memorabilia, and art of the ‘game’. By the second Friday of September, kids were finding satchels and cards in hidden books and cracks in the walls.
That second Friday, a large cluster of kids gathered around the outside of Veronica’s home room, their whispers excited as they discussed their latest find. She tried not to pay too much attention to the conversation as she forced her small form through the throng, but anxious whispers of ‘kill’ and ‘plan’ and ‘escape’ assaulted her ears. She pushed it out of her mind. No, they’re talking about a game. This isn’t real.
Like usual, Veronica was early as she forced her way into the classroom, and there were few bodies in the room save for herself and the quiet outcast types that sat by themselves. She attempted a smile in their direction but, as expected, they didn’t return it. Instead, she took a seat at the front of the classroom, placing her books on the desk and sliding her bag under the chair. As she leaned over to do so, she caught sight of a small envelope on the floor, trapped partially under a front desk leg. The back where she expected to see a name or address was face up and blank, but she could tell there was something inside when she yanked it out from under the leg.
The envelope was small enough to fit in her hand, yet a smooth wax of a black seal still pressed into the back enclosure, already open by the rail of paper tear stuck to it. The embossing on the seal was a figure squatting on its hands and knees. Two thin, tined antlers rose from its head, and large, stretching bat wings protruded from its shoulders, the span larger than the size of its body.
Though she knew this was someone else’s, Veronica’s morbid curiosity seized her hands and pulled the flap up. There was only one object inside; cardstock nearly the size of the envelope give or take a few centimeters. Pulling it out carefully, she immediately recognized the pattern on the back of the card as being from the game. It was the same pattern as those people found for quests. This was definitely not for her. As she turned it over, her breath caught in her throat.
The word “QUEST” scrawled in medieval-reminiscent script at the top in bold black letters. Underneath stood a painting of a knight or a soldier; a very young man in shining silver-steel armour encrusted with rubies. She did not recognize the symbol emblazoned in red across his breastplate and intricately depressed into the shield he held at his side. His eyes were a warm brown, his hair an intimately familiar shade of red-orange, and an even familiar still innocent softness to his features.
He looked just like Archie.
Yet, that was not what shocked Veronica most about the card. At the bottom of the image, a cream-grey box held tet that, mixed with the boy looking so much like her beloved, sent shivers up her spine.
Kill the Red Paladin.
The trill of the class bell rang through the room and more bodies shuffled in through the door. Fingers trembling, Veronica stuffed the card back into the envelope and that into the back of the textbook on her desk. She’d have to show Betty and Jughead later. For now, she pushed it out of her mind along with the other stresses of her life and pretended to be a normal teen for the day.
September swelled into autumn and left as dangerously as it began, whispers of “Kill the Red Paladin” cards popping up all over school. Betty often inquired parties she caught talking about it, the Acolytes running the games, the Deathknights that now warded the woods and public areas about it, but she met with the same answer each time.
They could not participate until they were initiated.
Instead of forcing her way in, Betty took the route she knew best and snuck her way through, learning the patterns of the Deathknights and following them long into the nights. They lead her through the forest more often than not, winding trails snaking through trees and long back yards, always ending in the same place, an abandoned recreation center on the outskirts of Riverdale, near the detention center. The grounds swarmed with Deathknights like cockroaches. Betty was certain the Gargoyle King resided inside the building, but she never got close enough to see inside.
While she was busy tracking her way around the cult, Jughead and Veronica focused on Archie. As September wound down, he abruptly became unavailable for phone privileges, and each time they’d travel to visit in person, he had a new scar or bruise somewhere on his once boyish face. He wasn’t the only one, however, as the Serpents stuck in juvie also started appearing with mysterious black eyes and broken noses, even ones released at the ends of their sentences throughout September.
Jughead and a group of older Serpents visited the detention center on the first day of October, waiting for their most recent member to get released back into their care. When he exited the building with the guards, his face looked the worst out of anyone, including Archie. His nose had broken and started healing out of place and he walked with a significant limp, hunched over his belongings. His lips were twice their normal size with scarred over cuts and untreated swelling.
They drove him home in silence and set him up in a group house watched over by Tom Topaz. The boys that lived there set to work helping tend to their brother’s wounds, some of them recovering from their own horrors from that detention center.
“What happened in there?” Jughead asked when the boy, Slash, started to relax into the environment. He was quiet at first, his eyes trained on the floor and his head shaking as if he were refusing to tell him, just as the others had. Jughead waited a few minutes in silence, but broke just as he made to stand up and leave.
“Fighting pits.” Slash muttered, still looking down. “They put is in fighting pits.”
“Dude-” One boy who’d been in detention previously tried to reprimand him but Jughead snapped to shut him up. If Slash wanted to speak, Jughead needed to hear,
“Like an underground wrestling ring?”
“No. MMA. Bare-knuckle. Whatever you can do to take down the other guy.”
“Why? Just for fun?”
“Lotta rich people come to watch. Place bets. Give us special names. It’s a game or something to them.”
Veronica had given Jughead the Kill the Red Paladin card for safekeeping and it was burning a hole in his pocket listening to Slash, “You’re all forced to fight? What about the other inmates, non-Serpents?”
“You’re asking about Andrews.” It wasn’t a question; Slash’s face grew dark at the memory of Archie in the pits, “Yeah… he’s their main man. The Paladin.” He spat the title with a small stream of bloody spittle. He motioned toward his nose as he continued “I couldn’t take him down like they asked. He knocked me unconscious.”
Slash shook his head. “No, they take us somewhere else. Somewhere old with a big pool.”
Jughead stood up immediately and scrambled for his phone to call Betty and Veronica, recalling the abandoned building Betty found the Deathknights operating out of. He joined her on her near-nightly trek through the trees after that, studying the building, occasionally finding the parking lot filled with shiny and out-of-place cars. The rich folk that played with the lives of the inmates. On those nights, Veronica came to meet them as quickly as she could, using her name and money to barter her way into the games.
She became a witness to the horrible treatment of the kids in the pit, scrawny, bruised, and still forced to fight until one went down in the blood-stained pool. She had yet to see Archie, though every night she went she heard whisperings about him, excitement to see him return. Three weeks from now… two weeks from now… next time...
Finally, it came to Archie’s fight day. It surprised him to see his friends come together with such an urgency that morning, especially given it was a Friday and they should have been at school. He was even more surprised at their questions about how the guards brought him in to the pits, that he never told them about, and their plan to break him out.
The rest of the day came in a haze, and as the sun went down, Archie felt detached when the guards retrieved him for the fight. The energy of the pit was different as they paraded Archie through the crowd, the stench of expensive booze and cigar smoke making his growling, empty stomach turn. His eyes scanned the people as they gathered to watch him descend into the pool, many of them hungering with a deadly greed he’d grown accustomed to over the past month.
As he looked over the spectators, he caught the familiar gaze of Veronica, worried yet warm with the mischievous twinkle that told him to trust whatever she was plotting. And he did, wholeheartedly.
The guards removed the shackles around his wrists as he reached the edge of the abandoned pool. They shoved him between the shoulder blades and he stumbled over the drop, landing sloppily in a 3-point stance. The impact left his sore, bruised muscles straining, but he stood up and faced the opposite end of the makeshift arena.
As expected, the boy was just as young as him, wrapped in a near head-to-toe black cloak with a hood. He’d never faced The Rogue before, but he’d seen plenty of his victims laid up in the infirmary during his recovery time. They allowed him to jump into the pit instead of being pushed, though Archie could see the pain in his form as he landed, all the weight leaning on one leg. Had this been a real fight, he’d know to use that to his advantage.
Excited cheers burst from the crowd as they faced each other, but the sound droned to a dull hum as The Rogue drew his hood back, revealing the familiar face of Joaquin DeSantos. Scars and bruising crossed his face just like all the other boys Archie fought, but he wouldn’t forget the face of a Serpent.
The sound of a bell echoed through the empty pool, shaking Archie straight through the bone and out of his trance with the reverberation. Joaquin stepped onto his off-foot and feigned a jab at Archie’s chest, which he backpedaled away from with ease. It was more playful than serious, mirroring the smile on Joaquin’s lips.
“Hey, Andrews.”
“Follow me.” Archie whispered, side-stepping his opponent into a flanking position. Joaquin frowned at him, confused by his nervousness.
“What?”
Archie scanned the crowd again to make sure no one heard, but the patrons focused on the swing he launched toward his opponent, missing intentionally, “When you see the smoke, follow me.” He repeated, slower, more seriously to get his point across. With a heavy step, he launched forward onto the drain grate, causing the steel to clatter under his feet as it wobbled in its place. With the momentum, Archie slammed his chest into Joaquin’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist and throwing his opponent down next to their escape route.
There was an echoing pop, a clatter of tin against tile, and a wayward shout as smoke began to creep along the bottom of the pool, filling the pit with obscuring whites and greys from all corners. Joaquin scrambled to his feet at the sight, looking to Archie for instruction as the smoke enveloped them like thick autumn fog.
As soon as his visibility of the audience completely vanished, Archie hopped off the grate and dug his fingers into the drainage holes, pulling up with all his weakened might. The steel was heavy, but Joaquin quickly rushed over a pulled on the edge that Archie lifted out of the hole. Struggling for a moment, they pulled it over the side of the hole, nearly taking Archie’s fingers with it. The steel grate banged loudly against the tile, but it didn’t alert the crowd as they rushed toward the exits above them, ushered by Veronica.
“Come on, this leads outside!” Archie called to Joaquin, beckoning him to jump down first. He wheezed, and a cough wracked his body as the smoke clogged his mouth and nose. Joaquin hesitated, though, so Archie impatiently grabbed his arm and threw him into the drain pipe below. He landed with a loud thud, and Archie took a deep, wheezing breath as left the smoke swirling above.
The pipe was wide enough for them to walk in single-file, but they had to duck and brace their arms against the walls to get out quickly. It felt like hours while they made their way over spalling concrete and lichen growing through cracks in the old pipe. When Archie’s shoulders and thighs began to shake with the effort of holding himself upright, the hot, damp air, thick with the fetor of moss and fungus, suddenly caught the breeze of the outside forest. Rustling of dried leaves and grasses echoed around the mouth of the pipe when they rounded the turn into the dark forest.
“Archie!” Betty called out as soon as she saw the flash of brilliant red hair emerge into the night. She and Jughead waited next to an old pickup on an old, dusty path, the Serpent logo emblazoned on the truck’s rusting black doors. No time for relieved greetings, they packed Archie and Joaquin into the cramped space and sped off along the back roads of the Southside.
By sunrise, news of the escape spread throughout the town, along with the alleged suicides of the warden and several guards involved in the fights. Governor Dooley issued temporary pardons by noon at the request of Mayor Hermione Lodge. Though not wholly removed from the system, Archie was finally free.
That was, until late that night, when most of Riverdale was asleep, each of the four awoke to tapping on their window. A mirror of each other, they all grabbed the closest weapon and slowly got out of bed. In unison, the tapping ceased. There, wedged under each of their window sills, sat identical parchment envelopes, the black gargoyle wax seal too thick to slip under all the way.
Upon opening the envelopes, each found a letter summoning them in two night’s time to the Southside junkyard, where the Gargoyle King awaited their arrival. Through their subterfuge and prison escape, he had noticed them, and it was finally time for initiation.
#riverdale#riverdale fanfiction#riverdale ff#varchie#bughead#heathers and gargoyles#h&g#mine#my writing#is this a grand scheme to combine 3 of my favourite things into one fic#maybe
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Savin’s Answers from Twitter, Part 4!
Still catching up on the backlog; this post covers tweets from May 2018 through October 2018
As always, tweets are in order from most to least recent, and answers are not 100% true/canon since things may change during production of the sequel. Text is unedited save for formatting; in a few places I added [comments] for context.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Also: If you’re going to ask Savin something, please be respectful and appropriate. He’s a person just like you and me.
@jeltezandberg1: I also hope the dutch dub would be re-released on blue ray. Because the dutch DVD version was never fully released ,except for the first volume. The reason for it was because the publisher responsible for the dutch DVD version went bankrupt.
@EiffelSavin: Not cool. We'll see what we can do but unfortunately we don't own the rights to that dub
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@RedVioletPanda: I'm wondering, does Aikka have any other family besides his parents? Also does Spirit have a family or not?
@EiffelSavin: If we produce the spinoff you'll have your answer regarding Aikka
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@GaulStg2713: I watched a few episodes back when Oban first aired, and recently I just finished binge-watching the whole thing and now I've learned about this! Awesome! (Is it too much to ask for a heroic Crog guy in this one? I love their design and was sad the only Crog we got were jerks.)
@EiffelSavin: I agree with you. If we do produce a sequel your wish may be granted... 😉
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@ILOVE659709491: I’m curious if Maya had not died in a racing crash but had still died due to illness or in a way DW couldn’t blame himself for, would Don Wei still have abandoned Eva and have the same severe reaction to Maya’s death even if it wasn’t in a racing crash, or would DW
@ILOVE659709491: have raised Eva & maybe remarry and not have as severe a reaction to Maya’s death but actually move on from it sooner if Maya had not died in a racing crash?
@EiffelSavin: I don't think he would have abandonned Eva if Maya hadn't died a crash. She died while racing for his team. That made him feel directly responsible.
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@Helloworld1012: Sounds interesting. Also, I have to ask regarding OSR 2 has a plotline already been decided?
@EiffelSavin: Yes. We're moving ahead very slowly, but we do have a pretty good idea of where we want to take the new show
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@Dmitry14846442: I wonder if the full version of "Never say Never" exists at all.
@EiffelSavin: Not sure.... ABC family made me listen to it before they chose it but I don't remember how long it was. If it wasn't intended to be released as a single, then there's probably only the short version though.
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@AshBashS_: Ever thought about setting up a type of Kickstarter or patreon? I know those who love the series would like to help out any way they can.
@EiffelSavin: That's certainly an option for a bluray release, a pilot or some early development.
@EpicLoneDreamer: Man... Still hard to understand how geniuses can be broke. The sequel is written already? OMG. What about two queens? 11 years waiting!
[note: AFAIK Savin hasn’t said anything about the sequel’s script being finished]
@EiffelSavin: I must bear the blame for some of it, with zero talent for brown nosing & for choosing projects that stand a little out of the ordinary. Another part can be put on the production system, especially in France, which tends to favor doing the same safe stuff over and over again...
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@penguin_elder: the second question why did jordan easily submit to the idea of becoming avatar,seeing from his actions he wanted to be with molly ithought he would be the first one to disagree on such a big responsibility.keep doing what your doing you're fan from the middleeast
@EiffelSavin: Jordan had sort of a predisposition as he gradually realized Eva didn't have the same feelings for him that he had. Then came a rare chance to save the galaxy, even if it meant losing all he had been. Jordan took it. Cause that's the kind of guy he is & also out of <3 for Eva...
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@Helloworld1012: I’m now super curious, in ep 17 Mrs Stern said something about Eva being capable of stealing from a shop of leaving a hotel room without paying for it. So I’m curious, Is Eva actually capable of stealing or leaving a hotel room without paying for it? I had she
@Helloworld1012: actually done that before? I know Eva’s rebellious, but I can also see she’s a bit of a ”goody-two-shoes.” So I’m curious is Eva actually capable of breaking the law
@EiffelSavin: Well, it's the evil headmistress speaking so we can't take her words for granted. But she does hint that during previous attempts to escape from her boarding school Eva may have not always strictly stuck to the law.
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@TengIlar: Hey, guys! There are no announcements, no arts, no teasers, no trailers, no news - nothing at all! Are you still alive? #OSR #OBAN #oban_star_racers
@EiffelSavin: Alive but dealing with a number of different projects, not all related in animation in my case. If you really want to know, I've just spent two weeks leaving in the streets to do research on the lifes of homeless teenagers for one of these projects.
@Helloworld1012: Out of curiosity what project is that?
@EiffelSavin: A project about young punks surviving in the streets with their dogs. But I won't say anymore for the time being. It's very much a work in progress.
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@MassimoJPN: I just got to know about the Blue-Ray project of OSR and I'm incredibly excited now !! Is there any chance that there is gonna be the german voice acting on the discs as well ? I would even get it without, but the old voices are childhood memories ! :)
@EiffelSavin: We should have French, English and Japanese. German is more problematic as we don't own the rights to that version.
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@LiveforOban: I’m curious, do all star race teams managers own their own race team like Don Wei does, or do most star-race managers work for someone else & don’t own their own race team? Also, the show made it clear that when he was Maya’s manager Don Wei worked with only one
@LiveforOban: racer at a time & that his team used only one star-racer at a time, so why is it that in 2082, Wei Race has several star racers?
@EiffelSavin: There are other managers/owners like Don Wei but most teams were not able to survive without the support of a larger parent company. Remaining a relatively small team in terms of funds, Don Wei has usually concentrated all his means & efforts on one top racer: Maya then Rick.
@LiveforOban: So I’m guessing Maya was his first racer.
@EiffelSavin: yes
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@ILOVE659709491: I know Maya was considered to be a beautiful young woman, but I’m curious when he was younger did women consider Don Wei to be a handsome man? In 2082 is Don Wei considered attractive?
@EiffelSavin: Don Wei was not bad looking but was no Don Juan either. His charm came from his intelligence and well as from the power of his dream to succeed in the racing business. That's probably what touched handsome Maya.
@ILOVE659709491: What does not bad looking even mean? Does that mean he was fairly attractive? Because I need more clarification on that.
@EiffelSavin: I mean not ugly by any means but not someone you'd turn around to look at when his walking down the street - unlike Maya.
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@LiteMorgan: What’s the plan with the theme music? Aware there were a bunch of versions - Japanese, French, Japanese remix for most of EU, and the American version.
@EiffelSavin: We should have the original Yoko Kanno version + the french version as bonus. US version is less probable as we do not own the rights.
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@EiffelSavin: Today I recovered the digital copies of #ObanStarRacers' Japanese master tapes. We'll hopefully add the Japanese language tracks to our planned #bluray release !
@firechikara: Awesome! I hope you'll include the different Opening Theme (apparently from what I've seen, there's a short and long version) as a bonus.
@EiffelSavin: yes!
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@ArkantosRedwolf: Do you have by any chance the Latin American dub? That would be the mother of all nostalgia if you could added to the bluray release.
@EiffelSavin: We'll try but this may be more difficult to obtain. We do not own the latin dub and had no direct part in their recording.
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@Helloworld1012: I’m still really curious, but in ep 18 Maya was wearing a traditional Chinese dress during her date with DW and I’ve noticed her racing uniform resembles a Chinese dress, so is Maya from China or at the very least Chinese?
@EiffelSavin: I think I already answered that. Don Wei's origins are only hinted at but for me he's of Chinese origin and Maya isn't. Regarding the dress that was just to please Don. That beeing said anyone is free to interpret the series as he likes and make it his own 😊
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@LiveforOban: Why did Don Wei have such a severe reaction to Maya’s death? No matter how much he loved her & no matter how brutal her death, Don’s reaction was to severe. Considering his personality changed he abandoned his kid & tried to forget his past.
@EiffelSavin: Extreme love can lead to extreme consequences. Romeo killed himself after Juliette killed herself. Don Wei's reaction to Maya's death was a little less radical but the idea is the same. He couldn't bare to leave without her all the more as he felt responsible for her death.
@LiveforOban: Doesn’t that basically mean Don Was obsessed with Maya?
@EiffelSavin: Yes, but in a good way - at least until she died. These two really loved each other and formed a perfect family before drama struck.
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@vaatil: watching Oban with the pals for the first time, we re on episode three and i loVE RICK
@EiffelSavin: And rightly so - Rick is the top bad ass dude! 😉
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@Helloworld1012: I'm curious, since their in the concept art but Are Aikka and Eva going to return as major characters in the sequel/spinoff? Also, I'm curious but what will happen to Aikka when he returns to Nourasia? If I'm not mistaken the Crogs are still in control of his planet,
@Helloworld1012: And he's already done several things in the race to risk banishment.
@EiffelSavin: Yes, but there's also a new Avatar now, which should change things a bit - or do they? 🙂
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@ILOVE659709491: Did Kanaletto manipulate Eva’s life from the moment she was born? In episode 26 Kanaletto States so himself that for centuries he manipulated time just so he could find Eva & use her.
@EiffelSavin: Correct.
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@djinni0024: I know you aren't on Twitter much, but for the sequel, do you guys plan on making it have a darker theme, with more adult tones to it? Most of us (that being your original fan audience) are well in our 20s-30s.
@EiffelSavin: That would be ideal, but it depends on who will finance us
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@NoelCT: Beautiful work, as always. I've been excited to see 2 Queens for years. I'm sorry it's still taking so long to come together, but thankful you haven't given up on it.
@EiffelSavin: Haven't given hope! Actually currently looking for a new character designer to start over on a slightly different direction.
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@KananJarrus: Would be awesome if the #ObanStarRacers Soundtrack got a re-release, for people (like me) who missed out on it years ago. Great, high quality soundtrack @EiffelSavin
@EiffelSavin: One of our plans with the Bluray release is to add all existing tracks as a potential bonus (and there's around 85 of them).
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@Helloworld1012: I’m curious since it got to me, that during her time in the boarding school Eva most have done things besides drawing & mechanics to pass the time, but Does Eva like to read? & if so what kind of books did she like to read? Also in ep 18 I noticed Maya wore a chinese dress during her date with Don, is Maya from china or Chinese?
@EiffelSavin: Don Wei's surname implies that he's of Chinese origin, which would make Eva half Chinese. [Implying Maya isn’t Chinese]
@RyanMoate: I can imagine that if Eva read it would be articles about her father's racing career and probably manuals considering she built the rocket seat.
@EiffelSavin: Yes, a mechanical geek. Plus she loves hardcore techno - the best way for her to relieve her stress and teenage angst!
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[In response to Catsuka posting the OSR pilot]
@copperfield42: wow, it [Molly Star Racer] looked more silly that the final product...
@EiffelSavin: All the main ideas were in the pilot, but it was a little more comedy oriented and aimed at a slightly younger target audience. As we developed the world and the characters, we fond a new and more fitting equilibrium for the show.
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@ILOVE659709491: I know there are other possibilities for DW's background, but I just want to know, could the theory that Don Wei was born to a high-class family in China, but that DW turned his back on the life he knew when he eloped with Maya also be a possible background for Don?
@EiffelSavin: Choose as you prefer. But bear in mind that you don't need to have been born in the "upper class" to want to behave like someone from the "upper class".
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@Alix_Mei: One question, this series going to be in Netflix?
@EiffelSavin: too soon to say
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@RedVioletPanda: Now that I'm thinking of it, would the Nourasians Knights be similiar to Shaolin practictioners @EiffelSavin ?
@EiffelSavin: Not a bad comparison. They both have strong training, both physical and mental, with the addition of magical training for Nourasian Knights.
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@fictionjustis: Is DW’s grey hair due to stress & grief and has nothing to do with his age? In the flashbacks where Maya is alive DW seems to be in his 20s + DW and Maya seem to be the same age. Maya was only 28 when she died, meaning Eva was born when DW was in his early 20s
@EiffelSavin: Don Wei is a little older than Maya and more in his forties at the start the show. But stress may have also played a part
@fictionjustis: I’m curious, a little older is so vague. So does that mean Don Wei is only 2 years older than Maya or that his 5-10 years older than Maya? How many years of an age difference did Don & Maya have?
@EiffelSavin: I don't have my old notes with me but it was probably around 10 years older, or something close
@fictionjustis: Really, because they don’t look that far in age.
@EiffelSavin: May have been a little less but in real life it's often hard to tell if someone is 25 or 30. In animation, with stylised designs, it's even harder. The acting and body language play a big part.
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@ILOVE659709491: Maya seems to influence Don Wei the same way Eva influences Aikka. Is it possible that though she didn’t introduce him to racing Maya may have encouraged Don Wei to follow his dreams & be a race manager even though it meant going against his parents wishes & expecta- -tions of him? Also DW has a strong comparison with Aikka is it possible that like Aikka DW came from a high-class family that placed high expectations on him?
@EiffelSavin: The main point these two have in common is that they had feelings for their partner or friend. Regarding Maya, it was more her parents who were against her becoming a racer. Not exactly what any parent would have in mind for their beloved daughter
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A solar storm is on its way due to a coronal hole opening on the face of the sun, ejecting streams of high-speed solar wind. These winds are now travelling the 93 million miles from the sun to Earth at speeds that can reach up to 2,000,000 miles per hour, and the plasma is expected to reach our planet on Wednesday, Feb 27th, causing a geomagnetic storm that will last approx two to three days. (Those who are highly sensitive will already be feeling the effects.)
During the peak of the solar storm (Feb 27-28), we will likely experience temporary periods of reflection and frequently notice moments of déjà vu, intense waves of emotion, nostalgia, and may have vivid dreams or nightmares. This is our system’s way of encouraging us to purge and process old memories and the stagnant emotions they hold so we can elevate beyond our pain and reach and maintain a state of peacefulness.
When a coronal hole opens, magnetic solar wind erupts and escapes the sun’s surface and enters space. The highly-charged wind plasma contains free-floating electrons which scatter sunlight and buffet Earth’s magnetic field (or protective bubble) resulting in noticeable friction here on Earth. The frequency disruption can cause power grid fluctuations, disruption to navigation systems, impacts on high-frequency radio waves, possible damage to satellites orbiting Earth, and the confusion of mammals on beaches as their internal compass goes out of sync.
Studies show that animals sense changes in Earth’s magnetic field, so it makes sense that humans also sense disturbance and feel their own auric field vibrating at a far higher rate, particularly those who are highly sensitive to energy.
Although Earth’s protective magnetosphere can shield us from solar storms, it is becoming weakened due to the movement of Earth’s magnetic poles, which means we are far more susceptible to the impacts of solar storms.
Solar storms awaken us at a cellular level and affect each of us uniquely. They are capable of causing major personal transformations, either positive or negative, and how we ride and survive them ultimately depends on the state of our emotional, mental, and physical health at the time of their arrival and as we go through them.
Anything lingering within our cellular memories, due to past trauma that has not yet been processed, will rise to the surface so it can finally be healed and cleansed from our system. If we head into the storm with a positive, appreciative, and optimistic mindset, we will transcend old patterns of behaviour, learn significant lessons, and vibrate at frequencies that allow us to attract and receive whatever we hope for and are mutually aligned with.
Solar storms are also known to desynchronize our circadian rhythm, which is the internal biological clock that controls our sleep and wake times. Our pineal glands are affected by this electromagnetic activity and produce an increase in melatonin—thus disturbing our sleep and impacting our intuition. We may have enhanced intuition and psychic awareness.
These storms are also believed to directly impact our nervous system, causing us to feel extra edgy, cautious, and feisty, and as though we are running on adrenaline in “fight or flight” mode. When they occur, we can find ourselves spun out or agitated without knowing why. We may also notice that our senses are on high alert, and that everything feels and sounds louder, brighter, stronger, and more vivid than normal.
Solar energy has been shown to change blood flow, boost adrenaline, and affect blood pressure. Research has found that these storms can have a huge effect on our emotional, mental, spiritual, and physical health. Peaks in increased anxiety, depression, fatigue, and nervousness have been found to coincide with solar activity.
The effects are known to be so extreme that many highly sensitive people feel as though they have entered a new reality and left behind old, outdated thoughts, emotions, and beliefs. The transformation can be so powerful that it can propel people to leave any dysfunctional relationship or dynamic that causes them pain or destruction.
These periods are known to be an opportunity to experience a full, conscious awakening through renewed energy, limitless possibilities, higher wisdom, increased levels of love and wisdom.
Humans are powered by the sun and gifted with conscious awareness and free will, therefore, every person on this planet has the ability to shift their thought process to enable them to perceive themselves at the centre of all existence, thus holding magnificent manifestation and creative powers. These manifestation abilities become activated during solar storms, so although many people feel wary when they hear there is a solar storm occurring, they are hugely beneficial periods, and can greatly enhance our lives and advance our evolution as we emotionally and mentally awaken, and alter our existence—often beyond recognition.
When we fully understand how light codes from the sun infiltrate our bodies with ancient wisdom and knowledge, and allow the opportunity for alignment with higher realms, we will begin to take advantage of our ability to create a life that is true to our soul calling.
To be able to manifest at the highest level, we must first have balanced our electromagnetic frequencies; our heart and mind both need to be harmoniously tuned and resonating with the same desires.
When we aren’t aware that a solar storm is occurring and that our consciousness is attempting to upgrade, we can easily become confused and emotionally unbalanced, as though we are on a roller-coaster of highs and lows, due to the constant flow of past personal data suddenly being brought to our attention. This is why it is imperative we remain aware of the activity happening out in the universe so we can prepare for these challenging periods, and also so we can work with them and attain maximum benefit and soul growth.
Masses of luminous energy infiltrate Earth’s atmosphere during solar storms and absorbing it can be over-stimulating so we may notice our energy and that of people around us feels super intense, like everyone is extra irritable, emotional, anxious, fatigued, spacey, or stressed. This is likely due to the fact that we are currently in the midst of these powerful solar storms that are emanating powerful electromagnetic energies.
This is similar to the “ascension flu” that occurs when someone is going through an intense awakening period and their body is transcending from a physical one to a “light body.”
The light emissions radiating toward us during and after geomagnetic activity are thought to allow us to move quickly toward ascension, which may cause us to experience any of the following:
>> Pressure headaches and general aches and pains, mainly in the stomach (solar plexus) area.
>> Flushed, dizzy, or nauseous.
>> Difficulty focusing, confusion, temporary loss of memories, forgetting things, misplacing items, or a “foggy mind.”
>> Intense hunger or thirst.
>> Extreme fatigue, exhaustion, lack of energy, insomnia, disturbed sleep patterns, and intense dreams, or nightmares.
>> Seemingly out-the-blue bouts of irritability, frustration, panic, sadness, nervousness, anger, worry, fear, grief, anxiety, stress, and overwhelm.
>> Heightened awareness, enhanced intuition, premonitions, insights that seem to appear out of nowhere.
>> Physiological symptoms may manifest, such as flu-like symptoms, ear ringing, or aches and pains.
>> Appreciation that all life is sacred.
>> Noticing synchronicities, i.e. certain number patterns reappearing.
>> More consciously aware of other people’s energy fields and highly sensitive to negativity, walking away from drama and conflict.
>> No longer needing to force anything, allowing what flows to flow freely, and letting what doesn’t flow fall away.
>> Wanting to spend time alone; introspection.
How we can Ease Unwanted Symptoms Caused by Solar Storms
Geomagnetic storms are intense transformational periods that can bring awakenings and reconnect us to internal and external universal knowledge and wisdom. To ensure we resonate with this higher energy so that our vibration is raised, we can combat the effects of solar activity by resting and taking time from our busy schedules to do the following:
>> Drink plenty of filtered water (not tap water).
>> Take saltwater baths.
>> Meditate and remain aware of reoccurring thoughts and feelings.
>> Avoid caffeine and alcohol.
>> Spend time in nature.
>> Consume high-vibrational foods, such as fruits and vegetables.
>> Remind yourself that everything in the universe is made up of energy and that conscious thought and intention can instantly alter how we think and feel.
>> Breathe deeply, forgive, release, and surrender.
>> Practice kindness, compassion, acceptance, and empathy.
>> Remain aware of reoccurring thoughts and feelings.
> When possible, temporarily disconnect from technology, and anything that feels energetically toxic or draining.
This study further explains the impact of solar storms on human behavior
https://www.royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/abs/10.1098/rspb.2012.0324 further explains the impact of solar storms on human behavior.
- Alex Myles
Disclaimer: If you experience any of the symptoms listed here and you have medical concerns, please also seek the advice of a medical professional. The above symptoms are commonly noted during geomagnetic storms, however, there may be other medically-related causes.
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Study of Nostalgia
The second chapter of my dissertation is on nostalgia. I have been conducing a bit of research on nostalgia in my previous studies, and in particular, in my manuscript Debris of Utopia. I opened it to take notes on my notes and perhaps use something in my dissertation. Debris of Utopia and my dissertation have been functioning like a small system of connected retorts.
Political - socially acceptable to be nostalgic for the Soviet times, as opposed (at least recently) to the Nazi nostalgia. And it is understandable: Soviet project was a project for the world that still has its appeal.
Nostalgia for the Soviet times is not nostalgia for the Soviet times but a meta-nostalgia, nostalgia for nostalgia: "I sometimes think that what one deals with in the post-Soviet spaces is the sedimentation of ruins, the rubble that left from the ruins of the Soviet constructions and infrastructure: not with ruins as such but rather with ruins of ruins. And the affect that they bring is, in fact, not nostalgia but rather the meta-nostalgia: a nostalgia for the nostalgia. While nostalgia is an experience of longing for something that may or may not have been there, the meta-nostalgia is longing for the purity of this experience. But the always-already-polluted can only dream of purity."
Ruins produce nostalgia: "Ruins are generative in terms of affect, producing nostalgia and melancholy, and also creating lacunae of experimental social / bodily explorations and not-always-legal or simply frowned-upon usages."
Nostalgia is acute: "Gazing at ruins and exploitation of ruins is pleasurable, and the nature of this pleasure is complex, from purely distanced aestheticized savoring of the “elegiac elegance” of ruins to the more acute feelings of nostalgia and loss. Yet Soviet ruins, I tend to forget, ascribing my own sensitivities of a native observer to others, are foreign to the Western reader. Rann suggests Soviet ruins are attractive for a Westerner because communist iconography, refined and redefined, stripped from its threatening meaning, is a veritable succession of images of a dissolved empire: “Russia and eastern Europe serves as an imaginary space in which western nations can play out their own crises of identity, without having to confront them directly” (Rann, 2014). In other words, Russian ruins serve as a mirror of a polished shield looking at which Perseus does not risk to be blinded by the Medusa Gorgon’s exterminating sights."
Nostalgia is mythology-producing: "Similarly, it is too compelling to announce the Soviet past to be the past and to overlook the summoning of this past conducted most notably by the state in contemporary Russia, to say that whatever is happening now is something entirely different from the past. The USSR’s was a revealing collapse. It still is. This existence in the non-existence of the Soviet Union is still so painfully evident in a multiplicity of manifestations as perhaps its very presence wasn’t. The collapse of the USSR has started, and it is not near the end of its unfolding. Like the collapse of the Roman empire, it will reverberate through the centuries. Not surprisingly, therefore, not only the empire is thought and described in dualistic terms, but that it is also likely to evoke the sense of nostalgia in the observers. The sense of nostalgia is going to be purified by those invoking it until it reaches that ideal vision of empire which is entirely fictitious, mythological, and also mythology-producing. "The unexpected and the unsurprising" merged in the collapse of the USSR, according to Yurchak (282). But for whom was it unsurprising? Surely for many people, as Yurchak himself attests, the end of the Soviet Union was the personal tragedy. There was a lot of the staggering—not just the surprising before, during, and after the collapse. In “Conclusion,” Yurchak writes: “This book began with a paradox: the spectacular collapse of the Soviet Union was completely unexpected by most Soviet people and yet,…most of them also immediately realized that they had actually been prepared for that unexpected collapse.” (Ibid). But is this such a paradox? People seemingly smoothly went on with their daily lives. What else was or is there to do? Is it not what "always" happens in the times of significant transformations and social changes? Who can, goes on, and who cannot, does not. The latter might look quite differently. People could depart for the inner emigration and engage into escapism, find for themselves enclaves where the life goes on as if nothing happened, and people could die. While many didn’t die, many did. While in some regions the collapse went (seemingly) smoothly, in others there erupted wars and military conflicts, often with ethnic component and civil wars: Transnistria, Nagorno-Karabakh, Abkhazia, South Ossetia, Tajikistan. Many-years Chechen wars and the currently unfolding hybrid war between Russia and Ukraine is the consequences and the continuation of the collapse."
Nostalgia is “sentimental” in Etkind's reading (somewhat tautologically): "Alexander Etkind writes about the affective register of the “high Soviet period” that he defined as stretching from 1928-1953, overshadowed by the common knowledge and reluctance, impossibility to speak about gulag, as the atmosphere of “coercion, violence, and angrst,” which resulted in the “complex of feelings—fear, bewilderment, resentment, compassion, and mournfulness.” (Etkind, 2013, 30). For those who grew up in the Soviet republics which were on the subaltern position towards Russia, the mixture includes “political guilt, sentimental nostalgia, and apocalyptic mindset” (Ibid, 33). Etkind derives this formula from the analysis of Grossman’s novel Everything Flows, the protagonist in which recalls his childhood memories unfolding in the Caucasus, the land subjected to colonization by the imperial Russia and the enduring colonial practices during the Soviet time and beyond. I spent summers of my childhood in Ukraine, the country in many grievous entanglements with Russia; Summers here are about it. These feelings are familiar, but the affect that I lived are different. As much as guilt was present, there was denial."
I do not have nostalgic feelings about school: "Nostalgia is likely to emerge in connection to the memories of childhood, school years, family time, the blessed bygone are when our parents were young, the world was bigger, felt fresh, and trees were huge1. But I do not have any nostalgic feelings in connection to school."
Allegiance to nostalgia: "At the end of the Soviet times, young critics of Communism refused to wear ties. I, to the contrary, had been wearing my tie for longer than anyone else in class, longer than it was appropriate. Even teachers squinted at it, annoyed. It was my inverted resistance, directed, for some reason, at the new fashions, rather than past injustices. And, I think, it was my first pledge of allegiance to the all-encompassing, eternal nostalgia."
To evoke your nostalgia by describing my nostalgia is my goal: "Soviet nostalgia, Stalinist nostalgia, Mao nostalgia, and recently not admitted to the public spaces Nazi nostalgia, which seems to resurge, all coincide in the feeling: Life was far better during the past regime. You might have been killed but you were young; after all, you still might be killed, but you are no longer young. A collection of fleeting glances and interrupted shadows that I file, catalog, and number for my and, hopefully, your amusement, dear reader, is, for sure, endless. There is always something to elaborate upon, something to add, and something to retract. The politics of revocations and additions is complex. A non-intentionality of this phenomenological project is absolute and exceeds itself. I am trying to convey the value of valueless objects, a preciousness of things that are nothing in your eyes. Things are just present; they do not necessarily do anything except for making you understand me. I was swung in the cradle of ruins; I fetched debris out of the nonexistent and the unimportant. For an observer. All I want is to make you love my debris the way I loved it. My only intent is to contaminate your vision, to communicate the bittersweet disease of nostalgia for the world you did not know. To express longing for a never-existed past, for a number of glimmering pasts, in fact, contesting pasts which hint at the tournament of the futures. I want the world to conflagrate my slow exitless burning. I was born at the Parthenon of the Soviet civilization. I am an absolute cosmonaut, suspended in space, surviving the cosmic shipwreck. Hence the method: I do not document that much or situate it in any context, as I create an affective feel."
The work of nostalgia is transformative: "My mother and her friend’s braids, their heels, their modest chintz dresses add to my vision of Maidan Nezalezhnosti. This is the work of nostalgia transforming things and adding the second dimension to the reality."
Nostalgia is sickness: "With the social transformations that begin with the goal of ultimate obliteration of previously existing social relations and structures, many things die leaving next to no trace, which partly accounts for the severe forms of nostalgia for the Soviet times. Such nostalgia bears the semblance of homesickness, since a former Soviet citizen, never mind her allegiances, is displaced even having never transgressed the borders of the country. She did not go anywhere; instead, the borders in one moment trembled and shifted under her feet. One day hundreds of thousands of Russians found themselves living abroad without moving, and everyone had awakened in a different country altogether."
Apart from the nostalgia for the USSR, there is a wide-spread nostalgia in Russia for the 1990s, the time of social transformation: "Many of those who were young during the 1990s, recollect the time with nostalgia and regret, others, with horror or simply grudgingly, but most remember gazillions of details comprising the zeitgeist."
Ostalgie: "Oustalgie can refer to different aspects of Soviet experiences not only pertaining to the East Germany but to the former Soviet space in general."
Indulging in nostalgia is a method: "Indulging in nostalgia might become a method of understanding it—all the more alluring since it is predetermined to be imprecise. Ruins do not offer the full story, only hint at it and thus allow the observer to inhabit it, “to experience historicity affectively, as an atmosphere” (Boym, 2001, 15)."
Pages 152-158 devoted to nostalgia.
Then "nostalgia" largely disappears, although does a work because it is used to classify things along the lines of what they trigger: "Nostalgia is easily triggered by taste, smell, memory of disappeared texture (hand cream). From Proust’s famous madeleines, the connection of the taste and memory has been well established: "She set out for one of those short, plump little cakes called 'petites madeleines,' which look as though they had been moulded in the fluted scallop of a pilgrim's shell. And soon, mechanically, weary after a dull day with the prospect of a depressing morrow, I raised to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had soaked a morsel of the cake. No sooner had the warm liquid, and the crumbs with it, touched my palate than a shudder ran through my whole body, and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary changed that were taking place." (Proust, Swann’s Way, 2012, page number)"
Caitlin's nostalgia: "My colleague Caitlin once remarked that during her fieldwork in Lebanon she could not even begin smelling the lemon trees, and I was greatly surprised: “How so? One could not choose, usually, whether to smell or not.” Olfactory sensations impose themselves on the preceptor. “But I mean, for someone it would be easy,” she replied. “Someone would say, maybe, ‘My grandma had lemon trees in her garden,’ but not I. My grandma did not have lemon trees, you know. That’s why when I was talking with that woman, and she was sharing with me her nostalgia, all the evocations that lemon trees had to her, I was not going along. She was only two years older than me and could not possibly remember the civil war in Lebanon; it was imprinted upon her, along with the lemon trees’ smell. I found it was hard to situate myself in the same mode evoked just by the lemon trees.”..."I was failing to be in this nostalgia with her.” Caitlin explained."
Nostalgia is evoked by audio and sound: "Nostalgia is triggered and propagated by the audio, by sound. Alexei Yurchak describes how compact radio transmitters brought to life new socialities deterritorializing the grand Soviet narrative (Yurchak, 2006, page numbers)."
We can make ourselves experience nostalgia: "Nostalgia is a reenactment, a reproduction of scenes that have been repeating. Nostalgia could be spontaneous, but it could also be deliberate. One sets herself out for the pleasant and poignant experience of recollection, and the listener signed themselves in to be reminded or enlightened, by virtue of being present with their cup of coffee with petals."
Photography is one of those technologies that reproduce nostalgia: "If the music, being a sound, and not unlike taste or texture, store nostalgia, if everyday technologies and the yesteryear technological advancements that rapidly go out of circulation can produce nostalgia, photography will be one of these technologies."
Family photography perhaps more than other types of photography has a potential to evoke nostalgia: "Perhaps Soviet family photographs will communicate to the attentive observer something about photographs in general, as well as about nostalgia, the imperial, the ephemeral, and the empyrean."
Nostalgia can be a powerful market motivator: "As if playing this game or possessing the object today would have given the former player or owner the sense of the days of childhood perhaps returning. All too often the first urge upon recollection of something long gone is to seek reacquisition. That’s why nostalgia is not only a feeling, a state of mind, or complex affect, but it can be a powerful market motivator."
Nostalgia turns terrible things into great memories: "Nostalgia turns terrible things into great memories."
Digital nostalgia (not a developed concept).
Nostalgia can be exploited by the state and by the agents active on the market: "Doubtlessly, Longing for Sleep project is not the only project exploiting the nostalgia for the Soviet times, debris “too worthless to plunger” (Brown, 2015) reframed as “another man’s treasure” are everywhere you look. (Examples include Crêpe De Chine and Georgette crepe “vintage-looking” fabric patterned in the Soviet style—in huge wide-branching flowers; ice cream rebranded as the “Soviet plombir (ice cream) sold in Russia and beyond, and something else perhaps I could use here.) All of it shows that nostalgia is the good to be sold, that nostalgia is turnable into money; it is able to bring revenue, and generate different communities, be it a huge and hard to define community of the “Soviet ice cream” eaters, or a refined little community of the former Soviet blankets’ wearers."
Nostalgia comes in surges: "Some two years before that, in one particularly unbearable surge of nostalgia, I searched the Internet for this lamp and found it, to my amazement, for sale on eBay."
Another two pages on nostalgia: 248-249
Of nuclear threat and its now almost-nostalgic affect: "What once was disturbing becomes merely nostalgia-inducing even if the threat itself did not vanish."
The post-Soviet nostalgia is syncretic: ). "In 2015, in Moscow people spotted (and there was a news item about it) that the high-school graduates sported the Soviet-school-style dresses, but the aprons were cut into the dresses. No way to take the apron off. It appeared to me that there was something symbolic about it: the apron as a part of the dress was a perfect metaphor for the Soviet nostalgia: it combined the previously familiar elements into the totally new whole, the order of things was rearranged the way it has not worked before. The syncretic nature of the Soviet nostalgia was thus revealed. One thing that does not belong attached to another, centaurus hybridized with griffin, the deer wearing the cherry tree for antlers, Stalin framed as a Christian saint, use the German photographs to illustrate the narrative about the heroism of the Red Army, and all of it for the purposes of reaching the authentic is, evidently, the common principle of the plastic restoration, the imperial nostalgia that does not really want the past restored, but merely toys with some of its aesthetic elements the meaning of which it nonetheless discounts and to the separate existence of which it refuses to attend."
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1 “When the Trees Were Tall,” the film by Lev Kulidzhanov, produced in 1961.
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A Year In...
Published February 23rd, 2020
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”
When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written: “But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.” Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.” - Matthew 2
Sometimes I feel that I can relate to the Pharaoh with his fears and anxieties regarding the newborn Jesus. I don’t know about everyone else, but I find the knowledge and awareness of Christ’s existence to be both terrifying and comforting. I know that there are plenty of things that I have done or thought that need forgiveness. His presence alone is enough to make me feel guilt and even shame. While I understand that we are constantly being forgiven because of His sacrifice, it doesn’t make owning up to those errors and flaws any easier. In fact, this makes me more resistant to the call to conversion and change at times.
“But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’ s heart and he would not listen to Moses and Aaron, just as the Lord had said to Moses.” - Exodus 9:12
As strange as it sounds, I have found myself feeling less vulnerable one year into the JV-Peru experience than when I first arrived. I’m not directly saying that God has hardened my heart since coming to this land, as was the case with the Pharaoh during the time of Moses and the Exodus, but that I now find myself growing empathetic and sorry for this figure. I would like to imagine that, like most leaders, the pharaoh wanted the best for his people and that his intense desire and love for that mission was misguided and perverted slowly, little by little, without him even realizing the harm he was causing his people. By the time he realized how far it had gone, it was too late, but I suppose that this was the way it was supposed to play out for him. Perhaps this is an overly optimistic perspective on the Pharaoh, but who can know for sure?
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Nostalgic Swimming
During this Christmas season, I find myself in a similar boat as the pharaoh, or rather without a boat in the Red Sea. The transition of new and old volunteers ebbing and flowing through Andahuaylillas have begun to stir and blow away the dust from the corners of my heart that were dormant and unexplored for quite some time. I have also been thinking about what it means to prepare our hearts as a stable for Jesus. We recently had a Christmas reflection and prayer regarding this “preparation” this past Sunday, so this wasn’t a casual thought from me for those wondering.
It is currently 2:18AM on Christmas Eve and, after spending a full year as a volunteer, I have woken up with a desire to write about the preparation process of my own stable! I hope that I can somewhat describe my mini experience of metanoia or “change of heart.” At least, this is what I hope to experience regarding my frame of thinking, feeling and being for this next year.
Although this re-connection with myself and my emotions is difficult to describe, I can compare it to the feeling one has with the rediscovery of a childhood toy, film, or favorite song that makes one go “OOOOOOOHHHH MAN!! THIS IS MY ____”. It is this feeling that reunites us with old memories of tender love and nostalgia, but along with this can come traumatic emotions of fear and anxiety. Both are equally helpful to revisit from time to time as they are a part of the human experience, but this current visit has moved me, especially after being away from what was familiar for over a year now.
My current emotions are of sadness and frustration regarding the ways in which I have not yet fully immersed myself into my JV experience. These emotions have brought me back to my time in Nicaragua, and to the initial shock and awe experienced with those who were there. I remember this particularly with the children. Their ceaseless outpouring of love and affection seem to be more apparent during that time than with my daily encounters today with students in Andahuaylillas.
I wonder why I felt that these old feelings weren’t being translated or carried over into this new experience. How have I grown calloused to the injustices that I see on the street with alcoholism, violence, and child neglect? Why was simple living a seemingly achievable and reasonable concept then, when I rarely uphold that value consistently today? Where has my prayer life gone? Why do I find that community has not been helpful for engaging in this sort of discourse and keeping each other accountable? All these thoughts, or more aptly, these accusations hit harder and harder the more I reflected.
Then I began to think about my trip to Guatemala as a peer facilitator. I remembered feeling anger and frustration throughout that experience. I felt that I had failed my group because I did not meet them where they were. I was challenged by how the group wasn’t taking advantage of the experience, or at least to my liking. It was at this point, perhaps in the fogginess of the early Christmas Eve morning, in which I came to the realization that I was pushing some too hard.
I wanted to take people deeper into something they might not have been ready for. I hoped to push them somewhere in between awkwardness and un-comfortability, a hard tone to hit in any intercultural experience. I wanted others to move beyond the “lighter discomforts” of food, language, and culture shock so that they could move into questions and reflections on privilege, social inequality and access to resources among other things. I mean, what did they expect would happen? Everyone chose to be here, they chose to fundraise, and attend several of my country prep meetings to prepare! Weren’t we all expected to be open and dive into the experience? Well, the short answer is no, they were not!
Father Boyle mentions this sort of “measuring up” in Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion. He speaks about this limiting way of putting God in a box and the way that we often restrict ourselves and each other. In a lot of ways I believe that I was also disregarding and boxing people in rather than letting them surprise me with who they were and what they had to say.
I distinctly remember feeling dissatisfied by how the group talked about their experience and, without realizing it, dismissed their reflections. I thought about how they weren’t offering much on the trips. Their reflections never seemed to move beyond “surface level” discomforts (whatever that meant). Anything that wasn’t helpful to me was tossed aside, dismissed like many of the motivational posts seen on social media.
“In this place of which you say it is a waste… there will be heard again the voice of mirth and the voice of gladness,,. The voices of those who sing,”
- Jeremiah 33: 9-11 (quoted from Father Greg Boyle’s Tattoos on the Heart)
Although personally what the group shared didn’t always seem profound or groundbreaking, it was for them! In their own way, they were attempting to grasp this new reality and were greatly affected by it. I too was experiencing great change by what I was experiencing in both Nicaragua and Guatemala, but it was just different. While I may have appreciated and invited moments of existential crisis and feelings of ineptitude and solidarity, they were out finding the joy in the lives of the children in other ways. Where I thought I had found waste, they found their fruit and enjoyed sharing their struggles and laughter together.
We all came from various backgrounds with different skills and interests. I was able to lean in a because I was familiar with their language and some of the cultural norms. They were doing their best to live (for some survive) with the constant rice and beans, the quick paced gab that is Central American Spanish, and the ways in which animals on the street were treated among other things. This newfound sense of community is what brought them closer and allowed for them to be there for one another.
One of the main factors that led to my own decision to become a volunteer internationally were the volunteers at the sites in Nicaragua. They received us warmly and openly. They helped guide our group closely and allowed us to grow deeper by listening to our needs individually and presenting both challenging and beautiful opportunities to connect with the culture, people and life in the community. In Nicaragua, Lucia and the three German volunteers saw the need for my friend Kyle Hill and I to participate more with the boys at the site, since they couldn’t connect as males with the boys. My way in was through sports and language which allowed me to relate to the boys and get them to open up. Similarly, in Guatemala, I connected with the workers through soccer as well. For others in my group, it was through afterschool homework help, dance and playing tag, something that I wasn’t necessarily apt or predisposed to.
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Rediscovering the “Why”
Ultimately these experiences were all things that I wanted to live out for my own. This is what I would be saying yes to when I was applying to the JVC program, but it was also one of the first things that I would forget after a few weeks of “adjustment” and observation in Peru. As time passed on, so did my patience and I had let my heart grow harsher and unwelcoming to those around me. It became a cold place that said “No!” adamantly to Jesus and his family many times over. It wasn’t obvious to me at first, but I found this to be the case after my first year with my JV community.
I wanted to dive deeper into the tumultuous waters of intense conversation and challenge with others but didn’t realize that in this exploration and desire to have others follow, I failed to show the kindness and love that I was shown as I became a stronger swimmer, so to speak. My desire and methods to “invite others” into the deep were intense and not always pastoral or even kind. It was actually traumatic for some! I had failed to recognize the gifts in others, the variety of ways in which others swam whether that be through the breaststroke, butterfly, doggy paddle, and their various distances! All should have been appreciated in their own way and I wish I had the trust in my group (and community) described in Teilhard de Chardin, S.J.’s prayer “Patient Trust.”
Why was I seeking to bring people deeper into the world by “offering” a challenge, when it should have been the other way around? This “new” and foreign world was already doing enough of that! It was others who were offering me the challenge of meeting them where they were, to walk with them at their pace to grow. In retrospect, it was ridiculous to think that I would serve as the impetus for their change. At the time however, I thought my intentions were pure and ideal for them to lean into the experience. And to be fair, my ideas and wishes for others were good willed and honest at first, but slowly I grew to feel “above others” as may have been the case with the pharaoh.
A recent conversation with a friend from one of my retreat experiences had me reflecting on my role as a volunteer and participant in these experiences. I have always appreciated ways in which retreats helped me to become more empathetic and active listener, but I felt that I wasn’t getting much out of it at a certain point. After 10 retreat experiences it can become a challenge to be… well, challenged (I would finish college with 15 total retreats)! My friend and I talked about how now that we are beyond the “freshman” perspective of retreats and were now in more of a grad student-facilitator mindset. Our roles shifted from being sharers, to listeners, being guided principally by the one sharing. That isn’t to say that our roles are now to be valued more or placed on a pedestal, but that based on our experiences we now prefer this new role as it is helping us grow. I may have already been through the wonderful experiences of Search, Kairos, and other retreat experiences, but I experience and view them now very differently.
This conversation helped me realize that the same thing is now happening to me in the international context. Although I had been on other immersion experiences, this was something completely different. My heart was becoming hardened and calloused after “training” and forming myself within the Ignatian tradition during my time at Scranton. While I have grown more aware of different techniques to engage with others, I have also failed to adapt to the new situations and began to lose myself in the international context. I shouldn’t be too hard on myself given that this is the first time I live outside of my home with 3 “Woo” girls away from friends and family (Click here for the reference).
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End of the first year…
With all that said, I should probably describe some of the moments that I have experienced so that it might make more sense! The first moment comes from a fellow Cadis born Spanish volunteer who lived with us, Pablo Lobato. I was initially excited by the idea of having a male volunteer that was to stay with us for two years. However, once work started it became difficult to enjoy his company for a number of reasons. Having the same responsibilities at Fe y Alegria grew to be cumbersome with the amount of time we were spending with each other and when it came to organizing lesson plans that may not happen. Our states of mind and emotions influenced each other heavily. As you may remember from the previous newsletter, the challenge at Fe y Alegria was that there wasn’t a great deal of organization at the school and had I lost much interest and passion in the work. The same was true for Pablo. The situation affected Pablo so much that he was burnt out after a few months. It would lead to him ending his volunteer experience a year early.
Curiously enough, once Pablo made the decision to leave, things seemed to improve for him. He still had a few months to go and made the best of it. He joked around with folks from Fe y Alegria more and at his other worksite in Urcos. His openness and sense of humor brought him closer to those at work and even with others at the parish. He would often be out spending time with folks outside of our home and he really began to enjoy Andahuaylillas, even with its Oh Peru moments. Once December hit, the love and sadness expressed by everyone he knew was quite moving and made me think about how I would feel if I were leaving that year.
I realized that my own approach to developing relationships was perhaps a bit too cold. A few months in, I remembered pushing away a few of the local parish workers after having made plans to play soccer. I was angry because they had stood me up for over an hour on three separate occasions. So I (regretfully) called them out and told them that I wouldn’t go to anything they invited me to because it probably wouldn’t end up happening or would go on too late. In the moment, I thought that it would make clear that I don’t really abide by the “Peruvian Hour,” when it really only alienated me more than I already was as a gringo. My stable was becoming unwelcoming and standoffish, and its love, conditional. It is important to note that Peruvians and Latin Americans have an interesting concept of time. Time is a social construct where 30 minutes can mean an hour or two. This all seems to be universally understood amongst Peruvians, but it continues to frustrate me to this day.
A master of this concept and someone who helps me manage my struggle with punctuality is one of my closer friends in Andahuaylillas, Amilkar or Micky for short. He helps out at the parish and our mutual love for FC Barcelona has us meeting at least once a week to watch the game or play soccer at the Maracana turf field. We also play guitar at mass together whenever either of us can. Aside from that, we don’t spend too much of our time together discussing our personal lives. Since I play mostly on Sundays in the Temple, Micky is a part of the Saturday crew which included Pablo on the cajon or sound box. When the pastoral team at the parish and Pablo and I from Fe y Alegria had to come together to organize the kids’ First Communion I saw what the dynamics were like with Pablo and Micky.
They were constantly bagging on each other and Pablo seemed to be a much livelier person than I’d ever seen him. They would share in each other’s qualms about the lack of organization on both fronts and take joy in staying late after mass to chat about life. It was refreshing to see Pablo in this light. Once we had finished coordinating the First Communion, which took place on December 8th, we had a plethora of despedidas or going away parties. Given that 4 volunteers were leaving Mountain house, there were no shortage of cakes, meals and tears. It was quite a beautiful thing to witness and it all came to a culmination when we celebrated our final misa together.
El Estadio de Maracana de Andahuaylillas. Quite arguably, my favorite turf field with a view of the Coriorco Mountain
The Weekend Crew
So happy to have finished with Primera Comunion. It was a tough and beautiful year indeed
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Final Misa
With it being Christmas time, a number of masses had already been “booked” by other groups leaving me without a clear role at mass. It was nice to not have to play and to participate in a different way. I was able to immerse myself more fully and reconnected with my old self that wasn’t being brought out. All my motions had purpose, the readings were clear, and I felt connected with the church. Ever since I began to lead the chorus on Sundays, I have been focusing more on playing the songs well instead of listening to what the songs were saying and what the readings were for the day. I used to always find solace and a “lighter” sense of myself when at mass. When our inchoate chorus sung without confidence early on, I began to lose this magical feeling at mass.
I think my failure to pray and reflect WITH God instead of just going through the motions was affecting me greatly. Once this responsibility was lifted temporarily, I enjoyed mass once more. This is, of course, all in retrospect and doesn’t include the misas at home, which were also scarce due to Padre Gonzalo’s limited availability. I don’t know if any of you reading this have had a similar experience at mass, but I am looking for ways to stay intentional and focused during mass (so please share!). It’s challenging when playing for a folks who should believe that all voices singing to God are beautiful. This is not always the case though!
As per usual, the initial impetus comes from the Misa that was celebrated this past week. It was our last misa with a majority of the house, whom we had spent the past year or so with but also the first Misa experience for the new volunteers. It wasn’t so much the scripture readings that affected me, but the fact that this was the last misa we would celebrate as Mountain House 2019! Even with all the frustration that I had experienced the past year, there was a lot of joy and fun too. It all hit me at once when Pablo admitted that he would miss us all dearly and alluded to his regret in his decision to leave. It was a touching moment that was only made worse by my slowing down of the ofertorio song Tomad Señor y Recibid (which is Saint Ignatius’ Suscipe Prayer).
The question now is “What now?” This, like all reflections, means nothing if these “airy “topics and subjects are not made incarnado or made flesh/incarnate. St. Ignatius does ask us to be contemplatives in action after all! After a long pattern of closing up my heart and stable from others, I have begun re-open up shop. It’ll take time, but I hope that with the arrival of the new community we can start fresh and find our rhythm early on! Can’t wait to MAGA it up for 2020! Here’s to Making Andahuaylillas Great Again!
Google Photos Link: https://photos.app.goo.gl/3hbgZLo3USHxDDU57
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“Heaven only knows”
As a random or connected note, these thoughts and reflections come at a time when I realized that many of the songs that I had once cherished and appreciated as a child, mostly from my beloved first CD “album” Now That What I Call Music 19, released in 2005. I was thinking about John Legend’s Heaven and when I went to search for it in my files, there was no trace of it anywhere! I went to search for Ordinary and could not find that or several other songs from that time period. I was most upset to find that all things Coldplay were absent. Speed of Sound really helped kickstart my passion and love for music during my VH1 viewing days.
I mention this because music was what really helped me capture the moment in a sort of time capsule. It inspired and reaffirmed me during difficult lulls and times of change and transition. It is a categorized portal into my life, especially the ways in which I organize my own music.
Exhibit A: 2017 was certainly a coming of age year for me…I don’t know what every hashtag means, but some things definitely stand out for me.
I hope that this rediscovery of old music will also motivate me to begin the new year with some chispa and passion. Perhaps this new year and community can be an opportunity for me to take advantage of what Peru has to offer. I wish for more openness with the Oh Peru moments, less judgement and heart hardening moment and enough discipline to actually read and write often. So I bid 2019 farewell with a few lyrics from John Legend’s Heaven. Cheers to second chances and to this next year!
So will you come back to me?
Make this night the best night It's time for second chance Turn the beat up on repeat, and we can start to dance…
Heaven only knows
Our final Tiny Airport (Desk) Concert was pretty awesome
They are definitely smarter, taller and more hilarious a year later. I miss them so much!
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