#so maybe instead of despairing i could appreciate how much ive changed for once

[solivagantingrebel]

Sometimes I forget that it's a miracle I'm writing fics at all. If you told an early 2023, pre-ghoap me that I would be writing fanfics consistently again, I would've laughed at your face.

[empty-dream]

So I read 86 LN vol 1

S1 anime covers the entire Vol 1 except for the latter's epilogue, so full anime spoiler here.

And as of this writing, I'm still on Vol 2 so the things I mention here are solely those that happen in Vol 1. Idk if a thing happens in the latter volume, gotta dodge spoiler so I don't browse about it.

There was an interview with a person inside the anime industry that basically said "The point of an anime adaptation is not to be an exact replica of the original material, but to shine as its own medium for a story." I forgot who it was and I can't find the interview anywhere for the life of me, but that statement opened my eyes. I agree with it, that's why I can appreciate the differences between LN/manga and anime, especially if they turn out good and/or interesting.

And that's exactly what happens in 86. I'll start with this: I watched the anime first, and after I read the Vol1 novel, I actually like the anime more. Because there are a lot of meaningful original scenes in it

And because the Vol1 novel turns out exactly what I fear when I first watched the anime: that I won't care much about the squadron aside from the main 5. (Look, the anime promotional materials mostly only have Lena and those 5 only. As shocked as I was in the anime, I did have an idea where the story would go from those alone). The rest are barely mentioned. Not even the girls are named in the novel, even though they do talk and Lecca is even prominent in anime.

For example, the second half of the first episode, the one that shows Spearhead squadron's daily life right before Lena contacts them, is anime original scenes. Kujo already dies the moment the novel starts focusing on the squadron. Simply put, a lot of the squadron members that aren't the main 5 or Kaie get a *lot* more focus in the anime, like Daiya, Haruto (For characters who appear on the introduction page, their novel screen time is less than I'd expect), Kujo and Lecca. While the other members often appear in the background and actually behave like equal members instead of glue-them-on figurines.

(Idk if those other members are named and/or designed in the light novel before the anime is a thing or when the anime becomes a thing.)

The anime also adds relevant information in the Raiden's talk with Lena in EP7, like Kaie receiving racial abuse from 86 (in fact in both versions, she is the first one to get highlighted about this) and Haruto also having prominent Giadian Empire blood like Anju and Shin. These weren't in the novel.

I might be just nitpicking here because I love Kaie and Haruto, but see, this scene is amazing on its own. This is where Raiden and the squad reveal the weight of their motivation all along, that they *each* have different backgrounds and different kinds of sufferings, yet they are all sentenced to die, and they all choose to fight because they know no side is saintly but some things are still worth fighting for.

The prominent characters' deaths (besides Kaie's) are often mentioned with only one or two dry lines. I expected at least Daiya's to be detailed more, but it's just that so matter-of-fact-ly. Well I came from the anime, so I guess it's normal if I expected something as heartbreaking.

I broke down HARD at the last half of EP10 and that is nowhere in the Vol 1 novel. (Having Hands Up to the Sky playing in the background is also an advantage for being an anime. Fuck that song, I now play it 24/7 in despair)

Having a lot of original anime scenes really complement the story's nature. That there are two different sides of life here, it's not just Lena's or 86's only. And those couldn't have intertwined if not for their willingness to listen and communicate.

I know I mentioned this some days ago but really, I can't get over how many of the merch are Lena (and Annette) being cute doing cute stuff while the story itself is actually depressing. Merch staffs know the market lol.

- Novel side -

That said, the novel does have an advantage that the anime/visual media doesn't: Internal explorations and explanations.

It's obvious from the get-go, but Asato confirms that the inspiration of Republic of San Magnolia and its racial discrimination and genocide is taken from Nazi Germany in WW2. The Republic who favors the white/silver haired-eyed Alba drives Colorata out of the 85 sectors, overtakes their properties, and forcibly sends the now-called-86 to either fight their war and die, or work on the wall and die.

The life inside the Republic is also elaborated on. Class always exists, even inside one race only. The center of the republic is for the elites, Lena and Annette's families included. The farther a sector is from the center, the lower the education and economy there is. Most of the military come from these areas, which explains why Lena herself is in difficult situation. Since no one in the military is either capable or willing to bring change.

It's *insane* how easily the Republic could create such vile lies, and how easily the majority of the citizens go along with it.

Gotta admit, Asato does a good job at foreshadowing the fate of the 86, the truth that we can only see after Ep7 of anime. It is mentioned that supposedly, 86 soldiers will be welcomed back once their 5-years term is up. Lena once wonders about it, but ultimately she buys it thinking that surely they must have come back to another sector. She only realizes it's utter bullshit after Annette points out how, 9 years later, they have never seen even one Colorata inside the Republic when they should have seen at least some. This also shows that Lena has never ventured to the other sectors to find out more, probably due to work or maybe she's still a sheltered noblewoman in the end.

And the mentality of the majority of Alba is shown differently. Whereas the anime uses the academy classroom to show how deeply rooted the racism against 86 is, the novel uses Lena's mother who a) more or less does the same as the classroom, and b) presses Lena to get married and preserve their pure noble bloodline. This, when the nobility doesn't actually mean anything anymore. This version shows not only Alba's racism but also Lena's strained family life.

There is a scene of an Alba high school valedictorian who, during his graduating speech, says “My friends died fighting the Legion.” I’m not sure this will make it to the anime, and it’s just a minor scene in the novel, but the weight of that scene is heavy.

The science of Para-Raid is explained, which has something to do with tapping the collective consciousness of humanity and connecting it to one another. A bit far-etched but I guess that works, science fiction and all. But I like the part where despite (or maybe because?) of connecting via hearing only, the other senses are faintly receptive as well. For example, one can sense that the other side is biting their lips in frustration, something like that. Of course, actual real life things like sensing the hidden bitterness or elation in a talking partner's words are present, this being a story where listening matters.

The novel elaborates on Raiden's stay with the Alba old woman. He calls her Old Hag, but it's clear he greatly respects her. The part where she screams and curses in the middle of the road at the Republic soldiers who take Raiden and the other children away stays in Raiden's mind forever, and so it does to me. Ngl it is quite a chilling scene.

Same with the story of the previous Laughing Fox, Theo's Alba commander. It turns out, the entirety of Theo's first squadron didn't like him at all and bet on how fast he'd tuck tail and run back to the Republic. When he faced his death the way Theo explained, he sent a message to Theo revealing he knew about it and knew his place to not ask for acknowledgment or forgiveness. This made Theo regret why he didn't try to talk more with his commander and he keeps thinking about it forever. Now it makes even more sense why Theo, blunt as he is, is willing to listen to Lena and when he snaps, he wonders if his late commander would do the same.

What actually happens in Kurena's backstory is also touched upon. While in the anime some viewers could think "Man, I get where you're coming from but chill out." The novel graphically shows her parents being toyed on by the Alba soldiers while her sister protected her, the two could only watch, and then the same sister got sent to the battlefield to die. Now at that, anyone would think "Man, no wonder she can't chill out. Not with all that trauma."

I also like the addition that Lena can sense Kurena is the one who dislikes her the most.

The novel describes greatly that it isn't just Alba and Non-Alba. Essentially speaking, Non-Alba is called Colorata, and they consist of different race groups as well. Just as Alba is associated with the color silver/white, the other race have their associated colors as well. Asato assigns races to the named members in Vol1 and what their distinguished color features are. This also explains why Anju is exiled despite looking like an Alba.

It's a question that I pondered on when I first saw Shin's armor plates, and that I pondered harder on when Chise died: What happens if there is no armor plate to carve its processor's name's on? So it turns out Shin would substitute it with anything; piece of wood or some random piece of metal. For Chise's case, Raiden, Chise's leader, suggested using the wing of Chise's in-progress airplane model. Which did my heart so bad because I'm strangely fond of Chise and finding out that in his spare time in his limited lifespan, he was working on an airplane model made me sob.

I'm not particularly into mecha, and could care less about how it moves. But Asato did a good job describing the fight between a glorified suicide car and a line of brand-new solid A-grade tanks. Special mention to I-IV because wow the concept arts for all the mechas are so cool, even though I don't really understand. (Asato even said to I-IV "Go draw a tank so horrible it's stupid for the Juggernaut" and I-IV came up with the current Juggernaut)

You know how the Republic greeting is "Glory to San Magnolia and the five-colored flag"? I won't disclose who says this in what situation, but there is someone of Colorata saying "If you hate colors so much, you should have just colored your flag white" AND OOOH THE BURN SO HOT HOT HOT

Tl;dr: Bottom line is, I personally enjoy Vol 1 because I already watched the anime and got attached to it. If I were to read the vol 1 first, most likely I wouldn't fall this hard for the series. Hell, maybe I wouldn't even pick it up in the first place because I knew it'd be depressing. But this is not to say that the LN is bad. It’s very good, it just does not really touch the lives of other soldiers whereas that’s the very thing that I love from the anime.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Remnants, Part VIII

Hang in there, friends. It’s not over yet! If you’ve got questions, shoot me an ask and I’ll answer if it won’t spoil the plot : )

Part I,  Part II,  Part III,  Part IV,  Part V,  Part VI,  Part VII

Summary: You are in the midst of formulating your dissertation, but you’ve hit a wall. Your doting aunt, Rebecca, has a solution that brings you face to face with Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King. As the connection between you and Ahkmenrah grows, and as the secrets of his ancient tablet unlock, the once-king will find himself faced with a difficult choice.

    Thanks so much to @kitkatcronch  @kpopperotp12  @seafrost-fangirl  @sassystrawberryk  @perfect-rami  @txmel  and  @limabein for reading : ) If anyone else wants added to the taglist, let me know. I’ve greatly appreciated the feedback!

    Warnings: Character death (sort-of, of course) but it is somewhat graphic.

Your hasty exit did not go unnoticed.

 “Oh, Y/N. What happened with Ahkmenrah?” your aunt asked as she sat next to you on the stairs, her voice filled with concern.  

 You swiped at your cheeks and your nose in an attempt to pull yourself together before you looked at Rebecca. You felt ashamed for leaving her out of all of this and ashamed for crying on the steps of the American Natural History Museum in New York City.

 “I don’t even know where to start,” you said in a hushed, miserable voice.

 Rebecca’s phone lit up and she glanced down.

 “Larry’s with Ahk. He figured, when he saw you run out, he should go check on him.”

 “Good. That’s good,” you mumbled, trying to swallow the next wave of tears.  

 “I feel so horrible, Y/N. This is all my fault!”

 “What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

 “I knew the two of you were close, but I thought it was a good thing. Ahkmenrah isn’t just a wax figure—he’s human. He needed,” Rebecca paused, narrowing her eyes and pursuing her lips as she thought of how to articulate herself. “He needed a purpose. And when Ahk started working on deciphering his tablet, I figured that you helped give him that purpose, just by being his friend, someone he could relate to.”

 “You couldn’t have known, Aunt Becca.”

 “But I should have. I mean, look at him. Listen to him. He’s the embodiment of everything you’ve ever loved,” Rebecca explained. “It’s no wonder the two of you fell for each other. I essentially set the stage for a low-budget, kinda weird Rom-Com.”

 You huffed, a tiny ghost of a laugh, as Rebecca ran her hand through her hair, clearly feeling guilty.

 “You have nothing to feel guilty about. Ahkmenrah and I both knew what we were doing. We talked about it. We ignored logic and embraced the chaotic unknown. I’d say it works out for the characters in about 80% of those Rom-Coms, right?”

 “I don’t know if I’ve seen one with this level of a twist in the plot, though.”

 “Mmm, maybe a new plot for a Twilight reboot? Forbidden, half-alive boyfriend, stupid girl who makes stupid decisions and feels like death when boyfriend breaks up with her—well, hell. I guess it already is Twilight.”

 “Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” Rebecca said, joking, but seriousness did hang on the edge of her tone.

 “I’m not that stupid. I hold birth control as a central part of my belief system.”

 “I would hope so, PhD candidate,” Rebecca said, scooting close to you and wrapping her arm around your waist.

 You laid your head on her shoulder, her company helping you to feel composed enough to at least get yourself back to your apartment.

 “So, what did Ahk say tonight?”

 You took a deep breath and summed up what had happened during and after Ryan’s unexpected visit.

 Rebecca was quiet for a while; you didn’t need to her to say it because you already knew.

 “He’s right,” you said.

 “He is right about one thing,” Rebecca began. “You can move forward. You can, eventually, forget about him and live the life of your choosing.”

 “But I don’t want to,” you said, feeling hopeless.

 “Only time can fix that, sweetheart,” Rebecca replied with a sigh as she kissed the top of your head.

 “Did Larry say anything else?”

 Rebecca picked up her phone, but there were no new messages.

 “Ahkmenrah and I have something that we were working on and need to finish, so I’ll be back tomorrow night. I hope,” you stopped, not wanting to divulge what you considered to be Ahk’s secret about the tablet. “I hope it will bring us back to where we were; I can bury my feelings. I can be just his friend. Friends do love each other, after all . . .”

 You trailed off as your eyes searched your Aunt’s, desperately hoping to see the spark of agreeance within them. Instead, all you saw was sadness, maybe even pity.

 You stood up, fixing your clothes and adjusting your purse.

 “Let me take you home,” Rebecca said.

 You shook your head.

 “I need to walk. Need to clear my mind. I’ll be fine—you know everywhere between here and the village is safe.”

 Rebecca sighed, “Stay alert. Don’t get lost in your head, and text me when you get inside your apartment.”

 You hugged Rebecca and she squeezed you back, reluctant to let you go.

 “Thank you, Aunt Rebecca. For everything.”

 Rebecca gave you a loving smile and watched as you crossed the street to enter the subway. When you glanced back up, she gave you a wave before she turned and headed back into the museum.

 * * * * *

Maybe you were delusional, but you really thought when you and Ahk returned to see his death that he would change his mind—after all, this was the kind of experience that could really bring two people together, the kind of experience that could really make someone realize just how important it is to choose happiness over everything else. At least you thought so, given there really was no precedent for hopping through a doorway into a 4,000-year-old reanimated pharaoh’s memories.

 Once you latched the deadbolt, you sent Rebecca a quick text. She responded immediately, stating that she was happy you were home safe. You thought about asking her how Ahk was, but as you looked around your apartment, the memory from the night you brought him here assaulted you.

 You saw him, standing in your living room, dripping and shivering.

 You saw the heat in his eyes as you touched him, and you reached up to touch your lips as you remembered the passion of your first, real kiss.

 When you walked into your bedroom to change into an oversized t-shirt, you gazed out of the window, watching the flickering lights of the city, listening to the noise of the streets that siphoned into your room, filtered and muffled through the glass.

 When you climbed into bed, you could almost feel Ahkmenrah’s body on top of yours, almost see the intensity he delivered with his eyes as he slid into your body. Everything, well, almost everything about that night had been perfect, and you thought that it was that night, there in the underground café when Ahk had kissed you because you promised to teach him to read, it was then that you fell in love with him.

 The tears came slowly this time, sliding stealthily out of the corners of your eyes as you continued to watch the reflection of lights glittering in the window panes.

 The only thing keeping you from sinking into an actual pit of despair was that you were going to see him again. Ahkmenrah was trusting you with his one last secret, and you were going to prove your love by being selfless, by providing him with support as a friend. He would see, afterward, how much he meant to you, that you really would do anything he asked of you.

 * * * * *

Ahk is dressed in his full wardrobe, his golden breast plate that he rarely wore was glittering in the soft lights of his exhibit, and his face was nearly unreadable; the only emotion that seemed to be swirling beneath his regal expression was apprehension.

 For the first time, Ahkmenrah did not greet you with a smile, and you felt a little piece of your heart break. But being in denial had its perks; you told yourself it was simply because he was about to witness his own death. Anyone would be stingy with their smiles in a circumstance like that.

 “Are you ready?” Ahkmenrah asked solemnly.

 “Yes. Are you?”

 Ahkmenrah gave a firm nod. He removed his tablet from the wall and rearranged the hieroglyphs. Ahkmenrah spoke, the door opened, and the two of you walked in, knowing death was waiting on the other side.

 * * * * *

Of course Kahmunrah chose to murder his brother during the Festival of Min, one of the Egyptians most robust celebrations to praise the god for his fertile blessings that allowed their crops to have flourished. The swath of grain that Ahkmenrah, as pharaoh, had cut to start the celebration is laid on top of a small pedestal in the center of his table. Everyone is giddy, feeling secure in the future of their great nation and in their young, virile king.

 Kahmunrah sits to Ahkmenrah’s right, clearly secure in his position as not only prince, but as the vizier to his little brother.

 You turn to Ahk and question why Kahmunrah held such a high position.

 “Despite his shortcomings, he was my brother. I trusted him. I loved him. And at no time during my reign did I ever feel threatened by him. He made the perfect royal advisor; we disagreed, at times, about foreigners and war, but he always acquiesced to my decisions. I appreciated his passion for our land. He hid his—”

 “He hid his crazy really fucking well,” you interrupted.

 “Yes. He truly did. And I only know that now after revisiting so many of my memories and entering his thoughts. Something inside of him snapped the day my father made me king.”

 You return your eyes to the celebration.

 By this time, Ahk’s marriage to Sitmut is arranged. It is strange to watch Ahk with his future bride; when they greet one another, he cups her face and looks at her lovingly before kissing her forehead. The love that flows between them is palpable, but it feels familial. No wonder the pharaohs kept harems or elected to have a secondary wife; as important as the propagation of the family line was, incest merely served as a means to an end.

 As you watch the festivities, you can see memory-Ahk, flirting with pretty girls, drinking, laughing, and it is clear he is at the very height of his power. Sitmut stays amongst her female companions, and you can’t help but notice she pays a lot of attention to one very beautiful girl. As they sit, drinking wine and eating sweets, their thighs press together on the stairs, while their glances linger just a little too long.

 Your heart aches for Sitmut, trapped into a marriage and a false lifestyle, all in the name of duty.

 Ahkmenrah’s memory becomes a little hazy as he consumes more and more wine, but the celebration shows no sign of ending. In fact, while Ahk’s vision blurs, his hearing amplifies, the music and carousing grow into a crescendo that blocks out almost any other sound.

 And this is when you see Kahmunrah conferring with four, very large, very muscular priests behind the feasting table, their little party just hidden in the shadows of a large column.

 Ahkmenrah’s parents are lying, lazily together on a set of stairs, alternating between watching the party and exchanging soft kisses. They are completely enveloped in a shroud of bliss, their sense of security evidenced by the fact that not many guards are stationed throughout the celebration.

 A young man covered in enough jewels to denote his importance approaches King Ahkmenrah. He leans in, intently conveying a message.

 Ahk’s brow furrows and without hesitation, he exits the room while the young man goes back to the party, quickly getting lost in the mass of people drinking, dancing, and laughing.

 Ahkmenrah’s guards, six of them in total, follow the young king.

 Kahmunrah’s priests slink out of the shadows and head in the same direction.

 A low grown of terror escapes your throat, making the impending horror of what happens next all the more real.

 You and the real Ahkmenrah rush after the priests, running to catch up with them. You can’t hear anything other than the din of the party, and Ahk’s head swivels from left to right as he strains to listen, his brows furrowed as he strains to remember.

 And then you hear it. The sound of something gurgling, the sound of a body falling, followed by another thump and another and another.

 “This way!” you say quickly as you take off into the hall on the right.

 The hall ends in a garden similar to the one that Ahkmenrah had shown you on your first visit to his memory. Even though it is night, the courtyard is well lit, torches blazing along the interior walls and atop lamps that line the garden’s many pathways.

 As you get nearer, you slip, Ahkmenrah catching you before you fall onto a stone that is covered in thick puddles of blood.

 You gasp and raise your hands to your mouth in horror. All of Ahkmenrah’s guards are slain, their throats slit so wide that the blood was forming little rivers in the cracks of the stones.

 The priests must have been practiced in the art of killing silently and quickly because it is clear they took out Ahk’s guards, two by two, until the final two turned to see why there were no footsteps behind them.

 Kahmunrah chose his assassins well.

 By the time you reach the center of the garden, the four priests, covered in blood have memory-Ahkmenrah, facedown. They hold him in place by kneeling on his wrists and ankles, and one priest reaches over to shove Ahk’s face into the sandy dirt of the garden while the other three work to strip him of all signs of royalty: his crown, his collar, his belt, and even his shoes, leaving him only in his short, thin, linen skirt.

 Ahk’s teeth are bared, the veins along his neck and in his arms bulge with his efforts to escape.

 Sliding between you and the real Ahkmenrah, Kahmun enters the garden. As he speaks, Ahk begins translating, causing you to jump because you had been so intently watching the scene in front of you.

 “Little brother.”

 Memory-Ahk freezes as he hears Kahmunrah’s voice.

 “Kah! Help me!”

 “Turn him over,” Kahmun commands in a cold voice.

 The priests quickly flip Ahk, settling again on his wrists and his ankles. Now you can see his dirt-smeared face as it thrashes from side to side, his eyes wide and panicked, and his hands and feet purpling from the pressure of the priests holding him in place.  

 In that moment, it occurs to you how like Jesus Ahkmenrah looks, his feet and wrists pinned, his forehead bleeding, either from rocks in the dirt or from the ferocity with which his crown was removed. His dark skin and his curls are covered in dirt and sand, and Ahk’s skin is smeared in patches from the blood that transferred from the priests’ murderous hands.

 “Kahmunrah, please,” Ahk says slowly as he sees the now unhidden crazed look in his older brother’s eyes.

 Kahmunrah says nothing and only watches his baby brother struggle against the muscular priests, their muscles flexing as they increase their hold on the young king.

 “Why?” Ahkmenrah whispers, as the reality of what’s to happen sinks in. “I gave you everything.”

 Kah barks out a laugh, a high-pitched, terrible noise that hangs on the edges of the night, echoing in your ears.

 “Gave? GAVE?! You STOLE what was mine! Our foolish parents who favored you, loved their precious baby Ahkmenrah more than Egypt itself, made a grave, grave error. But, no worries. They will pay for that error tonight, as well. But know that you die first, little brother, so I can show them your body. So I can listen to the sound of mother’s heart breaking. So I can watch the light, the joy finally go out of father’s eyes.”

 Despite Ahkmenrah’s best attempt to remain composed in the face of death, his eyes fill with tears as Kahmunrah describes his planned horrors.

 “Just kill me, Kah. Let Apep claim me but please do not hurt our parents.”

 “Things will go according to my plans now, Ahkmen. You’ll die, here, in the dirt, like the worthless, second son you SHOULD have been.”

 Kah drops down and settles across Ahk’s hips. He counts up Ahkmenrah’s ribs, looking for a particular spot.

 Without another word, Kahmun sinks the knife into Ahkmenrah’s heart and twists his wrist, ensuring his brother’s death. Kahmunrah pulls the knife out, stands, and puts it back in his belt, not even bothering to wipe his brother’s blood from the blade.

 Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King, dies like he ruled, a good king who cared more about others than himself. Instead of begging for his own life to be spared, he pleaded for the lives of the people he loved the most.

 Memory-Ahk gasps as the knife is pulled from his heart, his eyes bulging as his body dies. The priests stand, and Ahkmenrah’s limbs only twitch in the dirt as the blood escapes out of his chest. He quickly loses consciousness and his eyes lose their light as his last breath struggles out of him, the blood from his heart soaking into the dirt beneath him.

 You know, that for the rest of your life, you will never forget the image of life leaving Ahkmenrah’s eyes.

 At the instant the blade sinks into memory-Ahkmenrah’s chest, real Ahk’s hand flies to his heart and his knees buckle. You reach out, catching him and guiding him to his knees as he watches the blood flow out of the gaping hole in his memory’s chest.

 And as the blood ebbs into the dirt, the memory itself begins to fade, greying around the edges and the commands of Kahmunrah are silent, even though you can see his lips moving. Ahkmenrah is frozen on his knees, his eyes trained on his lifeless body.

 “Ahk! We have to go!”

 He doesn’t respond.

 Fuck, fuck, fuck, you mutter under your breath as the scene continues to darken; the memory is now like a tunnel and only Ahkmenrah’s lifeless body serves as the single pinpoint of light left. The darkness is coming and coming fast.

 You yank the tablet out of your backpack and hope to the gods that it will listen to you.

 You scramble the tiles into the same order as the ones that are marked “Return” in Ahk’s notebook, and you speak the words you had heard Ahk speak to end your other adventures within his memory.

 Sure enough, the door appears.

 You grab Ahkmenrah under his arms and haul him toward the door.

 He shakes you off, his movements damn near feral.

 “No! My parents! I have to save them! I have to warn them! I can change it—I know I can!” Ahk says, pulling at the sides of his cape and twisting his hands, panicking.

 “Ahk, it’s done and you can’t change the past because this is your memory. They’re gone, and we have to go, now!”

 “No,” he says, looking wildly about at the increasing darkness. “No, no, no, no,” he chants, hysterically in ancient Egyptian.

 You eye him carefully and know you only have one shot. You position yourself between him and the door, and in a swift movement, you pivot to the other side of Ahk and push him as hard as you can, jumping after him as the door begins to recede.

 * * * * *

You both landed in a sprawling heap on the museum floor. Ahkmenrah’s crown skittered across the stone, his Wesekh’s clasp shattered and beads pooled under him. He’d also lost his sandals and they were nowhere to be seen. You must have tackled him right the fuck out of his shoes.

 You were breathing heavily, and the remnants of tears glistened on your face. Ahk’s eyes connected with yours as he began to gasp for breath, his lungs clutching for air.

 You scrambled over to him, grasping his shoulders and sitting him upright. You reached to unhook the pins that held his armor in place, pulling it off of him, letting it clang to the floor.

 “Come on, Ahk, just breath, in through your nose, out through your mouth, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Concentrate on my words, come on. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

 You repeated the mantra until Ahk was breathing normally enough. He reached up and held his hand over his heart, and you followed, threading your fingers with his.

 “He can’t touch you now, Ahkmenrah. It’s done. You’re safe.”

 “You’re safe,” you repeated as you pulled him into your arms, stroking his hair as he began to cry, clutching onto your arms as his tears soaked through your shirt.

 You had no idea how long you sat there with your pharaoh in your arms, clinging to you like a drowning man, but you held him and rocked him, saying nothing other than a quiet whispering of, “It’s okay, Ahk. You’re safe now.”

 Ahkmenrah took a deep, shaky breath and slowly pulled away. You lifted his head and swiped at the wetness covering his face. You kissed his eyelids, tasting the salt from his tears, and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

 “I could never have done this without you, Y/N. Thank you.”

 “I owed you, remember? And I would do anything for you, Ahkmenrah. Anything.”

 “Truly?”

 “Truly,” you said with a small smile, hope quickening the beating of your heart.

 Ahkmenrah stood, gathering strength before he spoke with authority.

 “Go. Go now and do not return.”

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. You shot to your feet and clutched at his shoulders, holding on to him, the role of the drowning man now reversed.

 “No, Ahkmenrah! I meant what I said. I’m in love with you. I can’t just leave knowing that you’re here, right here,” you said, placing your palm in the middle of his chest.

 Ahkmenrah took your hand and lifted it to kiss your palm.

 “Finish your dissertation. Go to Cairo—it’s where you belong.”

 “I could have you transferred there! There’s a huge movement in the community to restore artifacts to their home territories and—”

 Ahkmenrah looked at you with such sadness it stopped you in the middle of your plea.

 “Y/N, that is what I am now. An artifact, a remnant of the past.”

 “You’re real! You’re fucking real,” you said, your voice breaking as you pushed his chest hard enough to cause him to step back. “You said you fell in love with me only after I saw you as a real person, not as some historical thing,” you finished, gesticulating wildly.

 “I never said I was in love with you, Y/N. I am a reanimated mummy, an artifact. This is all that I choose to be.”

 Every ounce of fight that had been coursing through your body came to such an abrupt halt that you swooned backward, and Ahkmenrah reached out to steady you, his hands firmly grasping your upper arms.

 He was right. Never once did Ahkmenrah say those words. It was you—you who had said them, and you who had believed he felt the same way.

 You shook your head, refusing to believe that he was choosing to see himself like this, as what you had fought to reconcile with from the beginning, as what you could no longer even remotely see him as now. Ahkmenrah was choosing to become an exhibit at the museum, choosing to become nothing more than a wax figure.

 And just as suddenly as the fight had gone out of you, a realization struck you. Ahkmenrah never had a chance to choose; he didn’t choose to become king; he didn’t choose to be brutally murdered by his brother; he didn’t choose to be wed to Sitmut; he didn’t choose to become the master of the tablet; he didn’t choose to come back to life.

 But he could choose now—and he was choosing to let you go, to let you live a full life. He was choosing to stay safe, to be under the guardianship and protection of the museum that he now thought of as his home.

 “You understand,” Ahkmenrah said, a spark of his normal self showing through his pain.

“I do,” you said, holding his gaze, your body damn near lifeless as he still held onto your upper arms.

 “Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you for everything you have given me, and I hope that one day, you will accept this as the right choice.”

 Your eyes filled with tears for the umpteenth time in the last 48 hours, and you kissed Ahkmenrah; you kissed him with every ounce of love that you felt for him; you poured everything you had into that kiss.

 You only stopped kissing him when you couldn’t breathe anymore, and after your lips pulled slowly away, he rested his forehead against yours.

 You slid further into his arms, one last time, and he squeezed you back before pushing you away.

 “Please. Go,” Ahkmenrah said with a steady voice.

 You couldn’t look at him again because you knew if you did, you’d climb into his sarcophagus and only the Anubis statues would be able to remove you, probably by using their spears to turn you into a large piece of Shish Kabob.

 For the second night in a row, you sobbed on the front steps of the American Museum of Natural History in New York City.

 But this night was the last.

 * * * * *

“You did the right thing, Ahk,” Larry spoke up as he stepped out from behind the back wall of the exhibit.

 “I love her, Larry. I had to let her go.”

 “I know, Ahk. I know.”

[deepfriedtwinkie]

Kingsman: A Trainee’s Mission (Pt. VIII)

PREQUEL FIC, this section ~2,300w

pt. I  | pt. II  | pt. III  | pt. IV  | pt. V  | pt. VI  | pt. VII

.

.

It’s four of them left at the end. Harry, Hamish, and their final hurdles, Derrington and William. He thinks back to the moment they stood there, proposing agents at their shoulders, and listened to Arthur inform them they’d reached the final stage.

Everything had rung in his ears for the remainder of the night. Possibly it might’ve had a thing or two to do with being drugged, but there’s plenty reason enough to doubt it was only that. Surreality, for one thing. Utter surreality.

One sentence, and his goal was within reach. No other candidate craves this the way he does. They haven’t had the chance.

He’s finally reached the stage that’s going to change his life forever. One way or another.

Harry glances anxiously around the drawing room where he was told to wait, kneading his hands, minding Mr. Pickle at his feet. He’s trying to conjure up a focused mental review of his past twenty-four hours with Martin. There’d been plenty of advice, he was sure. Peppered with years of a seasoned field agent’s wisdom, cautionary tales, and all sorts of things like that. The problem is, the only thing he can seem to remember is the proper way to make a martini. Ice, gin, vermouth, shake, pour, garnish. It’s not very helpful at the moment.

His gaze jumps up when the door opens, expecting Arthur. Instead, it’s Hamish, Ainsley loping obediently at his heels. He shuts the door behind him and comes to sit, settling on the far end of Harry’s divan.

The two hold a shared look for a beat or two, capped off with singular nods. It’s a heavy moment, and that’s acknowledgment enough of that.

Until it isn’t, because who are they to kid themselves at this point.

“Are you nervous?” Hamish asks quietly. It’s the most pensive Harry’s ever heard him.

He can’t give that anything but honesty. He lets his head bob. “Yes. Very much.” Then he looks left, watching his friend contemplate his hands. “You?”

The silence lasts far longer than he expected it to. Hamish doesn’t look up. He hardly moves at all, in fact. It lasts until Harry is tempted to ask what the matter is.

Then, without preamble, he doesn’t have to.

“My aunt died three years ago,” Hamish says.

Immediately, Harry’s empathy is lead in his stomach. He wouldn’t dream of prodding this time.

“I was just a tyke when my parents’ car wrecked in the highlands. Didn’t even think twice before she took me in.”

He has to pause. Harry’s overwhelmingly compelled to let him off the hook.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this,” he insists softly.

Hamish’s head shakes. His hands cover his knees, and his glance finds the window. He continues. “We lived in Edinburgh. Got by all right on her pension, and she’d patch up the neighbors’ clothes for a discount whenever we needed a little extra. Worked her fingers to the bone for me, she did. Then, one day… Pneumonia. Ten days in hospital, and that was it. It was foster homes after that. Four, maybe five of them. Shit ones, mostly.”

The more of this he says out loud, the more vulnerability his stoic face betrays. Harry knows what’s coming. It doesn’t take a genius to get there.

“I turned eighteen a week ago,” Hamish reveals, and it’s the softest part of all. His eyes drift somewhere far away. “If this…”

He doesn’t say any more. They both know he doesn’t have to. Harry works out the rest on his own. There won’t be another foster home. Or any funds to follow his intern work to Berlin, either.

There’s nothing left for Hamish out there. Nowhere to go.

Maybe he’s not the one who wants this the most after all.

Harry wracks his brain for something to say. It takes several moments, but he lands on something he thinks might hit the right note. His inspiration licks her paw.

“Is Ainsley named after her?” he asks.

Hamish nods again. It’s hard to spot at first, but one side of his mouth shows signs of twisting toward amusement. “What’d you study at Oxford, anyway? Let me guess: psychology?”

“Political science major with a minor in entomology, specializing in lepidoptery.”

“Lepi-what-the-fuck?”

“It’s the study of butterflies.”

“I was right, you’re something the fuck else.” Grinning faintly now, Hamish sighs, and he retraces his mental steps, idly scratching behind his bloodhound’s ear. “Mrs. Ainsley. Her and my mother’s maiden name. That’s what she liked everyone to call her. God help the sod who didn’t. It was Aunt Ainsley to me, too, no exceptions.”

Hopefully it’s in good taste to ask questions again, because he can’t resist poking at the pattern he’s seeing. He’s a shit, after all. “Why was that?”

“Oh, her first name was Agathe. She fucking hated the thing.”

Harry’s urge to laugh slips free before he can temper it.  Slowly, it catches, and by the time Arthur appears in the doorway, the two of them are confusing the hell out of the dogs, employing sleeves to rid the tears from their eyes.

“We’re ready for the both of you,” Arthur says. “If and when you’re quite finished.” He gives nothing more to their antics past a single peaked eyebrow. It’s very evidently not his first foray, but he looks like he’d love for it to be the last. Harry straightens quickly, aware of Hamish doing the same.

The adjacent doors have opened as well. One to the right, the other left. Lamorak is framed in one. Lancelot in the other.

There’s one order of business left before he takes his summons. Standing tall, Harry protrudes his hand to Hamish.

“Good luck, friend.”

Hamish clasps it, shaking heartily.

“And to you.”

Whatever awaits, may we both be Kingsman when it’s through with.

Turning apart, they go their separate ways. Harry hears the shutting of doors behind him, comforted by Mr. Pickle’s loyal trot as he meets Agent Lamorak, entering a sunlit parlor. It’s the sort of room he’d love to read a book in. Maybe he will, once he’s an agent. Because he’s going to be an agent. He’s going to be.

“Have a seat,” Martin instructs. Harry does, and so does Mr. Pickle. Just look at you. You couldn’t possibly be better behaved. I hope you know how much I appreciate you making me look good on this.

After all this time, he knows better than to expect his instructions straightforwardly. He knows to wait for them. He’s still waiting when Martin reaches into his jacket, pulling out his handgun. Extending it to him.

“Take it,” he says.

The sinking feeling in the pit of his gut knows something that he doesn’t. He wishes it would tell him sooner than later. Harry takes the weapon cautiously, eyes plastered to the agent’s face, seeking out the answer.

“That’s a full clip.”

It seems a little obvious to point out. You don’t say? I’d have expected most Kingsman to carry around empties for the fun of it. The fact that he’s deflecting even in his own head is a fairly severe warning sign.

Something is wrong. Something awful is coming. He just doesn’t know what.

Until Martin calmly finishes his sip of liquor.

“Shoot the dog,” he says.

Harry’s world narrows to a single frame, zooming nauseously to a point, and that point is Mr. Pickle’s trusting face. He wants to retch. He wants to turn the gun on Martin, just for the suggestion, and fuck all he’s done for him. All he can do is stare at him in shock.

How can this be what you want from me? How can this be what you’re asking?

He wonders if his mother would fault him if he left this room and never looked back. He wonders how long it would take him to fault himself.

He rips his appalled gape away from Lamorak, landing it where it belongs, letting it soften to something between pure love and despair. Mr. Pickle shifts his weight patiently to new paws, unaware of any of this. Unaware that he… That this could…

He can’t even think it. He can’t imagine a world in which obeying that order is okay. In which he can live with himself in the aftermath. Every suit would be blood red to him. Every one of his triumphs tainted with the sickest form of selfishness, the murder of something that had unconditionally loved and trusted him, who hadn’t done a thing to anyone. A completely–

Harry’s mind reboots itself.

A completely innocent being.

A Kingsman only condones the risking of one life to save another.

Things begin to click faster than he knows what to do with them.

The net in the gorge.

The bombs that stopped at zero.

Why specifically tell me the gun was loaded, unless…?

The danger was never real. All this time, it was never real. We were only meant to think it was.

Martin isn’t asking mindless obedience. Kingsman aren’t killing machines, and they don’t want them. He’s asking for comprehension. He’s asking if he’s understood.

Harry bolts to his feet, hands quivering. He has to do it before his nerve fails him. He has to do it now. It has to be now.

His trembling aim rises. Then steadies, by force. Mr. Pickle’s amber eyes glint up at him from over the barrel. His revelation didn’t end his insides’ churn, and neither does that.

Please, please God, let me be right. Don’t let me hurt this dog. Please, I beg of you, don’t let me have gotten this wrong. Don’t let me be wrong…

He fires.

The pellet bounces off Mr. Pickle’s fur. He staggers backward with a whimper.

Nothing more.

The gun is on the ground and Harry’s dog is in his arms before he registers, even remotely, that the sound of his gunshot was doubled by the room across the way.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, did that nasty thing hit you?” Mr. Pickle is wriggling like mad, stretching to reach his face and lick every inch of it, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Laughter bubbles out of him with tears, and it’s hard to tell which came first. “Oh, yes, I know. I know. I would never hurt you. I would never, ever hurt you, Mr. Pickle. Not for all the money in the world. Not for a thing.”

Martin rises while Harry’s still pressing soothing kisses to Mr. Pickle’s scruff. After another half-dozen or so, he finally senses he should pay attention, and looks over in time to see Martin replace his weapon, straighten his jacket, and offer his hand.

It’s then that it happens. He’s unprepared to commit it to memory, but he’s going to anyway.

“Welcome,” says Martin, “to Kingsman. Agent Galahad.”

Welcome to Kingsman.

Gently, Harry plops Mr. Pickle back to the floor. His eyes are full this time, and he makes no excuse for them. Reflex takes Martin’s hand for him. He barely feels his arm move.

Thank you, sir. His brain sends the command to his mouth. “And Derrington…?” is what incredulously comes out instead.

Please don’t let there be a chance of losing this. Don’t let there be an asterisk.

“Shot the dog, too,” Martin says, pumping his hand. Harry’s heart nearly stops, and so does the handshake. It’s Martin’s look that saves it. “Then thought the blank must be some mistake. Tried to take Geraint’s sidepiece and finish the job. I hear Molly bit him. No one stopped her, either. He’ll be on his way home once the dart wears off.”

Harry exhales so heavily his lungs might as well be raisins. Never in his life has he been so grateful a human being turned out that depraved.

“You’ve done it, Harry,” Martin confirms with a grin. “We all knew you could. Your mother will be extraordinarily proud.”

Mother… He’s got to phone her. He’s got to get to a telephone. He’s got to…

No, not yet. Not yet.

There was a second gunshot.

He grabs his mentor’s hand again, rattling away at his elbow like a lineman in a lever factory. “Thank you, sir. Thank you, I’m honored. I… May I be excused?”

There’s something knowing in Martin’s expression, and he nods. “Go on.”

Scooping up Mr. Pickle, Harry all but throws open the door. The one on the other side is already open, framing Lancelot again, only this time, smiling in the background. Hamish is already charging to the middle of the drawing room.

Grinning ear-to-ear.

“William?” Harry demands.

“Couldn’t do it; Kay sent him home.”

“Ainsley?”

“She’s all right.”

If there’s anything his memory allows him to keep about this day, anything that holds its clarity instead of fading to the blur of awe and adrenaline, Harry wants it to be this. The moment that he extends his hand again, this time brimming with the glee of a ten-year-old boy, standing tall in a Kingsman agent’s shoes.

“It’s an honor to be working with you, Merlin.”

No one else knows the relief on his friend’s face like he does. Hamish shakes, blinking back tears of his own. “And with you, Agent Galahad.”

“Agent Galahad!”

There’s no parrot in the room. It’s Martin again, emerging from the parlor holding a sheet of fax paper, radiating alarm.

“Don’t get comfortable. I’m going to need backup. Come with me. Your suit’s on the plane.”

“Merlin, to the control room, quickly. Arthur will meet you there,” Lancelot orders.

There’s only time for a sharp nod each, and Hamish claps Harry’s shoulder. Then the two of them are off down the corridors, scored by the sound of a piped-in radio broadcast.

For those of you just tuning in, the date is Wednesday, twenty-nine July, and what a beautifully clear morning for the wedding of the century…

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pt. IX

[whence-the-woody]

2020 

I used to do big, reflective summaries of my year and even tho I am feeling reflective today, I wasn’t able to do that last year and I actually really like the format I went with last year of just listing memz so I’m going wih that. Intention review etc will be in another post. So, my 2020 memories:

Jan

Gearing up to leave a job I hated, packing up my life to move away properly for the first time. Going flat hunting with my mum and my brother and having a literal choice of one

I did Home which I dont really remember so it was probably fine

This was the month the Gallavich wedding aired and gaslit me into believing there was still anything positive about that show/ship. Tbf at the time I was LIVING for it

Cinema kick with Mum including CATS. What a moment. 

Feb

Last day at said crappy job (just weird and awks. I didnt really know how to feel) and starting a new one - everyone was so lovely from the off and even tho I was bored at times I was optimistic

Staying with my brother for a few days, him helping me move in which was all very nice. 

My flat having no hot water for the first week - I only cried about it once. And me having nothing but an air bed for 3 weeks. Not ideal but grateful to have amenities and furniture by the end of the month

I think this was both kareoke night for one persons birthday and a 90s party for another - both excellent nights

People were talking about COVID by the end of the month but I was like pfft we’ve been here before with swine and bird flu, it’ll be all hyped up then go nowhere 

I think I was getting my first allocations by the end of the month which I was grateful for because going from an insane workload to none at all was tricky and I wanted to get going

March

Oh March 2020. How we did not see you coming. 

Before the lockdown even happened I remember people were panic buying. I stocked my freezer a bit, not because I was worried but because so many shelves were empty. All the shops starting looking apocalyptic and I was despairing over how silly everyone was being. You couldn’t get online shops anymore and there was no loo roll to be found - still think thats just so dumb. I had to go to 4 different stores to find oats and was so annoyed, weird little tidbit but I remember it. 

 I remember sitting down on my new furniture - eating a meal I had made, watching John Mulaney and feeling good in my new home - and seeing the Boris announcement. Other countries had already locked down so I had mentioned to my manager that I might have to go home to my Mums if it happened here - she had asked, I didn’t really believe it would. I had arranged for a friend to visit that month and when she cancelled I was like I think everyones being dramatic but okay. Then the 23rd, they announced a lockdown from midnight and I straight away messaged everyone to say I was panicking, asked my manager if I could leave and packed to drive back to Mum’s the next morning. I was in my flat about 6 weeks. 

I know for a fact that March felt like the longest month to ever happen but now I cant remember anything else from it - the announcement was so late in the month, I wasn’t working from Mum’s for that long before April. I think we were told to WFH if we could mid-month but I didn’t. Cant for the life of me now think why it felt so long. I know for those last 2 weeks I was refreshing the news constantly to see what was happening. I was still skeptical and thought the numbers were too low for such drama

April

WFH for real. Excruciating daily calls “to check in”. Working my first cases from home, only on the phone, with no idea what I was doing. Taking turns wearing headphone with Mum because we were both having confidential conversations. 

Walking my pup to get my alloted hour of exercise. Taking regular breaks to go outside - I think this was when there was a heatwave. Eating lunch outside. Sometimes doing weights or yoga during my lunch break - that part was actually pretty great 

Discovering podcasts - especially FDRF. They were the real MVP. 

Still constantly checking the news for updates. 3 weeks turned into 6 and so on and so on. 

I came back to my flat for one of the long weekends. I had accepted that it was going to be longer then 3 weeks and I needed more stuff. I went for a very hot walk through a ghost town - at the time it still seemed like there were too many people about. Still picnics in the park happening. 

Everyone flinching when they say each other and steering well clear. It made you feel tainted even though its what we were suppossed to do. 

Clapping for carers - absolute bullshit placating, hated it. 

Always being left off the list of keyworkers.

Still feeling like yeah its bad but ?? This cant go on forever 

A year of build up to a move then the rug was pulled out from under me, I tried not to complain because others had it so so much worse but it was hard. Is hard. 

We watched all of Location, all of Marvel, Bake off etc etc. I cried when Tony Stark died. 

I went back through my ENTIRE tumblr. I realised how little had changed really, it was very existential. 

May 

I had to come back to my new city because I was on a duty rota for 2 weeks. I was actually very excited and had a good time. I got to see people IRL!! Including some I was working with. It was definately a heatwave at that point - we were swealtering in our cars and full PPE but I was so glad to be out and about and back in the city. Putting a face and proper clothes on again was very weird

I dont remember anything else from May specifically. I think March and April lasted 10 years but then May June July were a blink. I think I had accepted how bad everything was by that point, I had stopped looking at the News for updates. I think this is where zoom started to be a thing maybe. 

June

Honestly not a clue. I was between My place and Mum’s because of the duty rota. I don’t think I came back FT until end of June. I know things were starting to open up again and it was all moving far too fast - I definately wasnt going to run out to the gym or pub but alot of people were. We were suppossed to go on holiday for a week this month, with my brother and the dogs but obvs that was cancelled - it was such a lovely place as well, shame. 

Yoga was still random but I did a weight workout every day this month which was great

July

Turning 25. I was definately back in the city FT, going back into work. My Mum came to stay in my place for the first time. My brother came over too. We went for a walk, had a picnic in the rain then ate cake back at mine. My Mum got me a microwave for my birthday because Im AN ADULT

For my birthday also me and my Mum watched Hamilton for the first time. This then took over my entire life and was played at all hours of the day 

Kept going with daily weight workouts, moved up another set. I think this is where I re-did Revolution

August

Ready to start socialising again. More restrictions were being lifted too quickly which I knew but also I had to GTFO

A friend came to stay with me for the weekend. Hes not very mobile so we couldnt do much - went for a short walk into town, sat by the river and got severely sunburned. We went to a restaurant for the first time in 6 months - I had pancakes. I made him watch Hamilton which he did not appreciate enough. Also watched Truman show for the first time while eating burritos - what a mindfuck that movie is I mean really

Went for a very long very hot walk with a friend all around the fields surrounding the city. We stopped for a drink and cake halfway, more drinks were then had in her garden. This was our first time hanging out alone and it was really lovely, we spent much more time together after that. Shes probably who Ive seen the most this year. 

A couple of weeks after that we went for bottomless brunch, followed by I think 3 or 4 other bars. The joys of getting day drunk. 

I think this was the month I started using friend/dating apps and got OBSESSED. They’re just so silly and judgey and fun, I love it. 

My 6 month tenancy ran out which I chose to renew. I started negotiations with my landlord for a pet agreement. 

I think this is where I re-did Dedicate. I think weight workouts fell off a little bit because I was pretty busy. Instead of running started doing 3 walks a week which was nice. 

September

First time hanging out with more then one person - did a Hamilton viewing party with 4 of us. There were american themed snacks, it was great. Not a boozy night which was needed. I think I then went for coffee with 2 of the girls this month. 

First time meeting up with 2 girls I met on an app - I’m still friendly with one, not the other. It was mostly a good time and I’m very proud to have done it but then drunken politics came up and it got AWKWARD. 

Nagging and nagging and nagging my landlord until she signed the pet agreement and LET ME GET A CAT

My obsession with apps was replaced with a cat shelter/app obsession. It was very frustrating because I wanted to rescue and they make it very hard so I eventually found a for sale ad and contacted them - it was a rescue though as far as I’m concerned, she was in a horrible situation for an “owner” who had no clue and had only had her for a couple weeks before giving up and putting her up for sale. I rescued her okay. I think it was 3 or 4 weeks after getting agreement that I went to pick her up. So getting everything ready for her was a big part of this month

I did manage to fit in a 5 day holiday. It was suppossed to be solo travel abroad but ended up being a Mon-Fri with family. We did some NT walks it was nice.

Then it was literally that weekend my brother drove me to Wales to pick up my new fur baby. Instantly fell in love obviously and my whole life became about her from that point on. They told me she was really timid and scared, she had been hiding in her current place, but I was so impressed with how curious and confident she is. She was wary at first, a bit flinchy, didnt like being petted with 2 hands, didnt like loud noises, wouldnt come on the bed or sofa, wouldnt come into the living room really. I put child locks on alot of doors but shes not mischivous so its never really been an issue. She loved to play from the get go and did come to me for a fuss from day one. I adore her basically. The first time she jumped on the sofa, sat next me on the bed, slept on my bed, let me stroke her with 2 hands, her first vet trip, every little first and win has always been a massive victory, Im a v proud mama. She was no name for a few days but quickly somehow became my Myshka (the whole long list I had went quickly out the window somehow)

Did some more regular yoga. Tried to do 5 weight workout a week but it was a bit random. Walks fell off because of anxiety over leaving the cat. 

October

Alot of WFH to be with the cat. Definately obsessed. 

We had our team day on a farm, that was lovely

Saw my friend for Halloween - watched Hocus Pocus for the first time, had cocktails, watched a boring horror movie then Rocky Horror which is just exceptional. Lockdown 2.0 was announced but we were tipsy and over it. 

A very stressful month work-wise, lots of deadline, threat of Ofsted, management changes, admin changes, not getting enough sleep because work stress and struggling with productivity. My health suffered a bit too because I didnt have time for lunchtime exercise anymore. 

November

Technically there was a lockdown but it felt no different because everyone was still in school and work, I dont think people even tried this time. 

The election, refreshing the results constantly. I fully expected a T win and was happy when he didnt but still disappointed at how close it was, as was everyone 

I bought my first Christmas tree and my own decs. Christmas shopping obvs. 

I downloaded Tiktok and started to question far too much about my identity. its ongoing. 

Most important was SUPERNATURAL. I had alot of feelings, it was an absolute rollercoaster my god. What a time to be alive that was. 

A couple of outside coffees in the park which is always nice. I went to a new friend’s house for tea and met their dog, also nice. 

I did a SV for the first time in a very long time and it reminded me of everything I used to hate about my old job, so happy to have left there

Test weekend taking the cat to stay with the family dogs, she did great, shes a champ

December

Pretty standard Christmas month. Had a christmas movie night with themed snacks and hot chocolate with one friend. Had another friend come for the day to do the same - first time I had seen her in a year after 3 cancellations, that was very lovely

Constant restriction changes and crappy government pissing me off but it didnt affect my plans luckily

All the Tier 2, Face Hands Space signs feeling very dystopian

Brother’s 30th plans got cancelled coz COVID. Back up NYE plans got cancelled got COVID. Actual NYE was fine tho the normal show/song/crowd was cancelled coz of course COVID 

OVERALL

Not so good shit

I mean the whole thing in general yknow

Alot of plans couldn’t go ahead - various groups I wanted to join, a new gym, more nights out with more people, more chances to meet new people ETC

My diet has been an inconsistet shit show BUT TFB there were months where you couldnt predict what was going to be on the shelves, you couldnt get orders and the whole world felt so pointless and dark like why even care about that shit yknow

My exercise also wasnt consistent though I dont feel too bad about it. I was always doing something I feel like even if it was just walking

Ive ended the year with the same amount of savings I started with which isnt exactly bad since I moved and furnished a flat and got a new pet but it isnt great

I hate WFH with a burning passion and im worried the world has accepted that as a new normal and im not okay with it

None of this shit is over yknow

Just a general hopelessness is the face of big world things yknow. Theres really nothing we can do about it, just gotta ride that wave and vote when ya can

No travel - I had such plans!!

Good shit

My new fur baby who I love and adore beyond sanity

Starting a good job in a great city with lovely people

Growing so much in confidence because Fuck it, everything is pointless anyway and theres no point in planning or caring so imma just do me

Exploring so much of who I am through new relationships, my own environment, little things like exploring my style, picking up old hobbies, trying new routines and habits

Strengthening some friendships and maintaining others despite the insane obstacles

Maintaining a positive relationship with My Mum in particular, and my whole family

Trying new things in my new city. Still managing nights out, a somewhat proper birthday and a short trip

No actual mental breakdowns which this year feels like a win. My mental health is actually in such a better place then it was this time last year. The job was killing me, thank fuck I got out when I did 

I redid more then 1 30 day programs and did 2 straight months of weights 

My family, friends and I are all safe and well 

Music of the year:

Hamilton

An awful lot of Panic! 

Anyone - DL

Partition (idk dont question me)

Basically alot of drama while trying to hold on to both my emo and club days - fuck I miss clubbing yall. I dont even like clubbing. 

Media of the year:

I should acknowledge Shameless even though I came full circle on it and have now fully abandoned the whole thing and prefer my own AU where Milkoviches get what they deserve 

Schitts Creek

Supernatural 

Hamilton obvs

Marvel technically, it was alot of hours

Staged

Derry Girls

Pose

The Old Guard

Pride - which is not new but we watched it on Christmas eve and I cried in my mums lap okay 

Ship of the year has to be Destiel I mean standing ovation for that rage inciting moment followed by a solid month of absolute chaotic good, it was glorious in its destruction. 

2021 INTENTIONS TO FOLLOW 

[metawitches]

  Adrian has decided to move on from team sports to a one on one battle with Leila. For all of his brave talk about wanting to play a high stakes game, he’s changed the rules at every turn to make sure the deck is stacked in his favor. Leila’s captivity at Adrian’s hands is different from anything we’ve seen before on Kiss Me First, and could be triggering for some viewers who aren’t expecting the sudden change in tone.

Someone, meaning Tippi, Force or Adrian, fished Leila out of the water after the end of episode 5, and tended to her injuries. The action moves back to London for the season finale, though it’s not clear in the beginning exactly where Leila is, other than being held hostage.

I appreciate that Kiss Me First once again shows Leila holding it together while she fights her battle, but needing to break down later. That’s the reality of being strong and good in a crisis. Leila isn’t a psychopath who fakes emotions like Adrian. She’s reserved. Her emotions are internalized, and sometimes deferred to a time when she can express them privately and safely.

For the grand finale, Adrian goes for kidnapping, assault and torture. During the precredits sequence we see Leila stripped down to her skivvies, lying on a mattress, strapped down, and hooked up to an IV that’s keeping her drugged. She rises to consciousness briefly when a bright light shines into her eyes, and struggles against her bindings, whimpering and complaining. Before long she’s drugged unconscious again.

After the title sequence the show moves to Leila’s house, where Jonty is sneaking in through the kitchen window. He can’t stand being left out of the loop any longer and needs to find out what’s happened to Leila. He finds Tess instead. She’s hoping that Jonty has news of Leila.

There was a bit of an odd time jump between episodes. Shouldn’t Tess have some idea of what happened to Leila since they were on the beach together? Or does she still think she can trust Tippi, Adrian and their hired hands to tell her the truth? Given how rushed and eventful this episode is, along with the time jump, this season would have been better off with another episode or two so they could flesh out the end of the story.

Jonty and Tess fill each other in on everything that happened while Tess was away. I could kiss them both, because this is the obvious and sensible thing to do first when characters are reunited, and they so rarely do it. Tess and Jonty are already better investigators than 95% of TV characters.

Next, Tess the Femme Fatale has to explain the psychology of Adrian the Sophisticated Super Villain to Jonty the Ingenue, which is just good old-fashioned fun. If you forgot that you were watching a noir, here’s your reminder.

She echoes Adrian’s speech from episode 5, asking if Jonty’s ever wanted to kill someone. She asks, “If you could make someone do anything to themselves, anything you like, to other people, too, why wouldn’t you?”

Between Tess’ crazy-eyed stare into the mirror and dreamy tone of voice, it seems certain that she has some people in mind. I’m reminded again of the way she left her father to suffer through his stroke. If you could passively kill someone who’d done terrible, secret things to you, would you? Would you feel remorse later?

Would you extend that power to strangers, once you’d gotten your revenge? Would you turn it into a game?

Jonty knows his answer to the question. He’s a “loafer, not a fighter.” Tess can’t believe he’s for real. They establish that he and Leila had a thing, and he wants to continue the thing, but he doesn’t want Tess in addition to Leila. I think Tess is relieved to hear that he’s not jonesing for a threesome, and she decides to trust him.

Tess appears to be sober and more stable. She’s off of Adrian’s roller coaster ride, and, after everything Leila went through for her, has the security of knowing that she has at least one person who’s there for her unconditionally. That’s not a cure, but sobriety and a healthy relationship or two can make a world of difference in anyone’s mental health. She’s tested Leila just about as far as you can test someone.

Jonty, Tess and the car that barely runs take a ride back out to Ruth Palmer’s house as they retrace Leila’s steps. Tess despairs of ever teaching Jonty the ways of the world, when she realizes just how much he shared with Adrian in their phone calls. Of course, Tess was the one who followed Adrian to the island, but we’re moving on from that, okay?

Tess, being Tess, stands in the middle of Ruth’s long driveway when Ruth drives toward her, making Ruth stop. Ruth gets out and tells Tess that it’s a private road and that she’s beautiful. She is beautiful, but it’s an odd reaction. Is she Adrian’s usual type? Is there a history with someone who looks like Tess?

Tess recognizes Ruth. Then she explains that she’s got some issues, but she’s the only one left from the suicide cult who’s able to rescue Leila. She says that at least 3 members are dead. Calumny and Denier are the only confirmed deaths. Who does she think is the third, Kyle or Jack?

Ruth remembers Leila. She says that Leila thought they had something in common, but she was wrong. Ruth is saying that she’s never killed anyone, even though she went to prison for murdering her husband. Either she’s lying, or she was framed by Adrian.

Ruth asks if Leila found what she was looking for. Tess says that Leila was looking for her, and she’s found, but now Leila needs to be rescued from Adrian, Ruth’s son. Ruth deflects and suggests that Tess has been misled or imagined things. Tess says that she, “wasn’t imagining it when your precious son tried to get someone to drown me at your horrible house in Croatia. I wasn’t imagining that he used your game to groom and kill my friends.”

And, whoops, that sounds like grounds for lawsuits. This is no longer a friendly conversation. Ruth walks up close to Tess and lifts up her head by putting her fingers under Tess’ chin. She says, “You really are a perfect thing. I would have loved a little girl. But I don’t have any children. So you see, whatever you think I’ve done, can’t be true.”

Tess is startled by the manhandling, but counters by taking out the black box. Ruth is interested again and wants to know where it came from. She denies sending it, but does tell Tess that it’s a base protocol box. There are only 4 left in the world. She really wants to get her hands on it, but Tess keeps it and leaves.

Ruth is stoic like Leila, but slippery and manipulative like Adrian. I’m not sure you can trust much that she says. Like Adrian, half or more of it seems to be vague and misleading in ways designed to encourage others to tell their secrets or act against their own best interests. The rest goes in circles and doesn’t reveal much, or consists of backhanded insults. The way she went straight to objectifying Tess was creepy.

But the key statement in this conversation is “I would’ve loved a little girl. But I don’t have any children. So whatever you think I’ve done can’t be true.”

Tess hasn’t accused Ruth of doing anything, or of having a daughter. She brought up her son, Adrian. Ruth’s entire argument is made up of non-sequiturs and irrelevant information that sound on the surface like they are pertinent to the situation.

Ruth carefully worded her statement about children in the present tense. That doesn’t mean she never had any children. Saying she would’ve loved a little girl doesn’t even mean she never had a daughter. Think of all of the ways you could end that sentence. I would’ve loved a little girl if… mine hadn’t been such a disappointment… if I hadn’t given mine up for adoption… if my heart weren’t made of stone…

As for not having any children now, all that means is that she and Adrian have legally disowned each other. Maybe the theories that Adrian is already dead and lives on as an AI are correct. Maybe he called her mummy, but he wasn’t hers. He was just a child she acquired because of his computer aptitude. He did say that he was “found”.

Leila wakes up again. This time, Adrian is there, still in the form of his game avatar, while she looks like herself in real life. He sounds as reasonable as ever on the surface, asking how she is, being understanding when she’s angry. Leila stays true to herself, threatening to find him when she escapes and make him pay for killing her friends. He points out that they were really his friends, and flashes a moment of Tippi desperately complaining that he was supposed to pick her.

Then Adrian gets down to his real purpose. While the others were a bit boring, Adrian has always found Leila interesting. He wants to give her something in return- Absolution, because she needs it. She needs to feel everything she did, then she’ll be able to change for the good.

She’s suddenly on a stormy sea, with her mother a distance away, calling to her. Her mother’s voice becomes worried, asking what Leila has done to her. Then Myra becomes frantic and she screams in pain before she dies.

Tess wakes up with nightmares and asks to slept next to Jonty. He lets her into bed. They decide that they have to try talking to other people about Leila, maybe the police, tomorrow.

Jack is in the hospital, in a coma, while Jocasta still circles Azana Planet in her sleep. Jack talks to Force in his sleep. The maid, Daisy, is the only one who’s there for him at the hospital.

First thing in the morning, Saul Green, from Azana, knocks on the door, then takes Jonty and Tess to an Azana office building where he says they’ll do something about Leila. After making them wait 45 minutes, Saul brings in Tracey, who deals with corporate resolutions. Saul and Tracey sound disturbingly like Adrian: (Saul) “There are millions of teammates throughout the Azana world. All so precious. It’s civilization, actually. And we look after it. So, When something has occurred we want to, you know, react. And something has, hasn’t it?” (Tracey) “With Leila?”

I’m not sure they could say Leila’s name with more distaste. They go through the crimes Leila is accused of, the gospel according to Adrian. Jack/Jocasta’s beating has now been added to the list. There is conveniently no security footage available from that high rent/high security apartment. Leila’s visit to Cyril’s mom after his death is now also somehow a cause of his death.

The icing on the cake is Tippi’s live interview with Tracey, in which she has a black eye and seems very subdued and scared. Her real name is Tomiko Teshima and she lives in Berlin. She came to Azana because she didn’t know where else to go. Shadowfax has created this death cult and used the members for her evil purposes. She can make them do anything. ANYTHING!!! ☠️☠️☠️

Tess and Jonty have heard enough and go home. The urn with Myra’s ashes is in the wrong place on the mantle. They realize that the house was searched while they were gone, and is probably bugged now. Well, Tess realizes it. Jonty works on being the plucky comic relief, while Tess takes over as the brains of the operation. There’s a car sitting outside, watching the house. Now they’re sure that Adrian’s framed Leila.

Leila wakes up, no longer strapped to the mattress, but with a sense collar on that she can’t remove. Adrian has “improved” his device so that it’s perfect for torture. He can force pain, pleasure and hallucinations on her all he wants. She remains defiant, calling him names and daring him to kill her.

Adrian uses the opportunity of a captive audience to philosophize villain monologue some more:

The world is so f–ked up that we don’t even notice anymore. Or if we do, it’s gone, in a moment, because of all the other s–t that’s crowding along behind. Life is mostly trivial drudgery. It’s drone stuff. It’s wanking, spending, procreating. You see, what I do, what I do instead, is poetry, really. And I kept thinking I’d found someone who got as big a kick out of this as me. But always, always disappointment. And then, blow me down, an anonymous frump from Rotherhithe. It’s you. [Leila: No] Are you sure? Are you really sure, Shadowfax? Because you do stick around, don’t you? Who knows? Maybe I’ll do good, next time.

Two out of three of the boring, drone activities of life are related to sex. He may or may not be asexual, but sex is mechanical for him at the very least. He’s quite misogynist, and makes a habit of insulting the looks of the women. I don’t know if he’s attracted to men besides being misogynist, but we’ve rarely heard more than a mild insult toward the men, including Jocasta/Jack. Most of them were about Force’s inability to control his anger and violent tendencies.

He’s still rewriting reality in his head to fit what he wants. He’s been in control of Azana Planet and his own life so completely for so long that he wants to dictate it in every situation. He assumes that if he tells Leila that she stuck around for the game and for him instead of to rescue Tess, she’ll eventually start to believe him, because so many young women have such low self-images that he can generally get them to doubt themselves and reality without much work. He’s already convinced himself it’s true.

Leila, as usual, isn’t interested in his theories. She tells him that he’s “a sad little boy whose mum let him down.” He shocks her using the collar, and says they share that experience.

He does something to the sense band as he asks Leila if Myra stared into her eyes as she died. Leila looks straight at him and says she hates “her”, then looks shocked and surprised at what she said. She was going to say something about Adrian, but the sense collar short circuited her brain.

While Leila has a normal amount of anger and resentment toward her mother for dying and leaving her alone, we’ve never been given the indication that Leila hates her. Mostly, she just seems to miss Myra, and be a little overwhelmed that she performed an assisted suicide.

Adrian asks her to hold on a minute. Leila looks ill. Adrian decides that now would be a good time to make her laugh uncontrollably. While she laughs, Adrian screams at her for not appreciating all of the work that’s gone into their current scenario. He doesn’t understand why she won’t play.

Leila can’t be beaten while she’s still conscious. She stands up and invites Adrian into the game to join her. She slowly, seductively removes her clothes, taunting him with his inability to satisfy a real life woman like her. The game background around her becomes bubbling, hot lava. Adrian begs her to stop ruining his game scenario. He shocks her continuously, but she pretends that it’s a turn on, while still insulting him and doing her provocative striptease.

Finally, Adrian can’t take it anymore and let’s the scenario crumble. She wakes up in a bedroom at Mr Adam’s house, hooked up to various medical machines. Someone was in the room monitoring her condition, but left. Leila pulls off all of the device hook ups, then lies on the floor and cries out of sheer exhaustion and relief.

When Leila leaves Mr Adams’ house, she’s in one of her own clean outfits. Adrian had one picked up while her house was searched. She goes to Azul and falls into her surrogate dad’s arms, crying. Azul is the best surrogate parent anyone could ever want in a crisis, and knows exactly what to do. Leila probably should have brought him in on the whole caper when Force came to town.

He feeds her and brings out the black base protocol box, which Tess hid with him. When Leila finds out who he got it from, she wants to run straight home. Azul stops her, warning her that Tess told him that people are watching and it’s life or death.

Then he asks her what kind of life or death problems a white girl like her could have.

I’m going to overlook the fact that he thinks white girls can’t have real problems, since the whole world has decided to undermine the power white women have gained by pretending that now they are power mad, don’t know their place and don’t know how good they have it. Also the writers said it, not Azul. He’s better and more respectful of Leila than that. Especially since he knows her mother DIED not long ago. And that Leila is alone in the world, without the privileges and protections that having rich white male relatives gives to white women, even in the most feminist countries in the world.

Once Leila tells Azul her possibly life or death story about the suicide cult she just escaped from after being held hostage and drugged for several days, he calls Tess and Jonty to let them know that he no longer has a job available because his old waitress came back. Get it?

Jonty and Tess are rested up and ready for adventure. Once Tess explains the secret code to Jonty, they pack up their gear and stealthily take the back alleys to Azul’s Cafe, where they then stealthily go in the front door. Still working on the spy skills.

Tess and Leila have a tearful reunion. Leila even calls Tess “you silly cow”, like she and her mother used to call each other. For the first time, Tess is the grown up. She holds and comforts Leila, then interprets for Jonty when he catches up, because he only speaks BOY, not normal human apology language. With Tess’ help, Leila forgives Jonty. Group hug time!

Azul doesn’t waste time ordering them to figure out a plan and get the heck out of his restaurant, because it’s kind of an obvious place to look for them. But, proving he’s surrogate dad of the year, he gives them the keys to his van.

Meanwhile, Azana pulls out all the stops to try to find Leila and get the base protocol box back. Who’s controlling Azana: Ruth or Adrian? Beats me.

News report:

Reporter: Computer giant Azana International faces investigation following revelations their gaming platform unwittingly hosted a cult involved in the deaths of several young players. Police widened their search for Leila Evans, believed to be the leader of the illegal group, as victims spoke out.

Tomiko/Tippi:We used to meet in Red Pill and it was beautiful. Then we started dying. She had a box. Some kind of special box. She can make us do anything.

Saul: I’m sorry to say, it seems there may be a number of victims worldwide. I want to reassure everyone that we are doing our utmost to find this illegal environment and shut it down forever, making Azana Planet safe again for all users.

The trio takes Azul’s van back to Mr Adam’s house. Adrian’s computer set up is still in the bedroom where he held Leila hostage. Tess asks what Adrian did to her, clearly fearing sexual assault, but Leila says he only messed with her head. Which isn’t completely true, because he also drugged her, which is a form of assault.

Leila asks for quiet so that she can work. She’s going to take down Adrian now. She pulls out the base protocol box and opens it up, then reconfigures the parts and plugs it into the Azana Planet set up. Leila has developed the confidence and the determination to fully use her talents against Adrian this time, no holding back. She spends hours coding. Tess falls asleep. Leila covers her with a blanket and says, “I love you.” Ruth Palmer watches the code changes on her wall screen.

When Leila is finished, she sets Red Pill to “public” and meets Adrian in another forested area that she created and set to “public”. She’s made sure that Ruth is still watching. No more secret meetings with no witnesses.

She goes in as Shadowfax, but with a new look that she created for herself. Adrian complements her work, and asks if she wants to run away with him. They each bring up the fallen cult members. Their discussion of Force is kept vague enough that his status isn’t revealed, which usually means the character is alive.

Then Leila gets to the subject she really wants to bring up. It’s her turn to villain monologue:

Adrian: “This is nice. Just the two of us.”

Leila: “Oh, we’re not alone. Everybody’s watching.”

Adrian: “They’ll think you made me up. You can do anything nowadays.”

Leila: “Yes, but… She knows you’re real. Don’t you want to tell Mummy how you violated me? How she made you crazy, right? After everything you did for her. Making her happy by making her rich. Maybe even killing her nasty, little hubby. She just abandoned you. You had to go back where you came from, didn’t you? I bet that was pretty s–tty. Don’t you want to speak to her? She’s right here. Poor little Adrian Palmer. Go on. It’s been such a long time. You’ve been trying so hard to f–k her.”

Adrian: “No. No, that’s not what it was about.”

Leila: “Yes, it is. It’s another level. Goodbye, Adrian. Go f–k yourself.”

She disappears.

Adrian looks out at Ruth: “See what you’ve done?”

Ruth, crying: “I’m sorry.”

Ruth’s screen switches back to the waterfalls and gorges scene from Croatia as Adrian logs out, then the screen switches to Azana Planet rising.

Leila, Tess and Jonty leave Mr Adams’ house. Leila tells Tess that he was a good teacher and thanks his spirit for his help. She’s having a hard time with having accidentally gotten him killed.

Jocasta’s avatar blazes out of existence from its place in orbit around Azana Planet. Jack begins to wake up from his coma. Daisy is still there, by his bedside.

Leila, Tess and Jonty take a bus to… somewhere. Leila thinks about her mom. Adrian calls her on the phone. He’s angry with her for making him talk to Ruth. NOW he’s coming for her, since she’s hurt him so badly. He senses that Leila isn’t taking his threats seriously.

Adrian: “You think you’ve won? Hmm. Let’s call it a draw. Anyway, a new adventure’s coming. High level of difficulty this time. See you around, Shadowfax.”

  I can finally say it, after sitting on this tidbit for the entire season’s worth of recaps– Jonty was practicing the Taxi Driver speech in episode 1 because the main character, Bickle (Robert DeNiro), who he was quoting, is an antihero who is dubiously seen as a hero and as a villain. It was only an accident of fate and timing that had Bickle killing people the world saw as bad people, instead of a corrupt senator, who they would have seen as good.

Adrian and Leila are both seen as heroes and villains in Kiss Me First, depending on which character’s perspective you’re using, or as Tippi said, which character’s truth matters to you.

I think there’s a remote chance that this is a Fight Club situation and Leila is Adrian without knowing it. We know nothing of Leila’s father, and she doesn’t look like her mother, Myra. Ruth Palmer says that she doesn’t have a son, but would’ve loved to have had a little girl. Adrian pretends to be Leila’s missing father. Leila looks more like Ruth than Myra. Leila is a math and computer prodigy, like Adrian. Azul asks if Myra is from around there, but he doesn’t ask where Leila’s from.

It’s possible that Ruth’s son was intersex and they didn’t know it until he was older, then sent him away when he had corrective surgery. That’s foreshadowed by Jack/Jocasta’s situation. It’s also possible that Adrian/Leila was kidnapped when she was little, and Ruth thinks she’s dead.

Or Leila could be related to Adrian and Ruth. She could be Ruth’s daughter who was lost, given up for adoption or kidnapped. Myra could have been Ruth’s sister, or the mistress of one of Ruth’s husbands. Adrian could have been Leila’s brother who died in childhood. Then Leila became obsessed with him.

Or, Adrian still could be alive, but locked in a mental institution, in prison, in hiding because of his crimes or because he’s disfigured in some way and refuses to appear in public. He could have scopophobia, the fear of being looked at. If he’s not a dissociated personality of either Leila’s or Ruth’s, then I think that scopophobia will be part of the explanation for why we never see him, should we get a season 2. He’s pretty clearly dealing with some major childhood trauma. No matter what else is true, the minute or so of video that he showed us made it clear that Ruth treated Adrian like a tiny slave child who called her mummy, but she wouldn’t acknowledge him publicly. Being kept in the closet like that does a number on an adult’s head. It’s devastating for a child.

He could also be the AI version of Adrian that the real Adrian set in motion before he died. The ghost in the machine. Or it could be that Ruth set up Adrian as a test avatar while she was developing the program, and gave it too much power and ability to learn. It could have become able to control the program and then able to leave it. Once it could leave Azana Planet and use the entire web, anything became possible for it. “Adrian” could have faked the video footage of “his” childhood that “he” showed Leila.

The interesting aspect to me is that who or whatever Adrian is, he didn’t create a flesh and blood skin for himself when he was holding Leila hostage and had her in the realistic VR skin.  He kept his animated avatar throughout. That suggests that either she’d recognize him, he’s uncomfortable with his appearance, or he’s dissociated from his body because of trauma.

Whether Adrian is an AI or human, he could have given himself the fake appearance of a human body, the way he might have for the childhood videos. The fact that he didn’t, and is adamant about saving his followers from bad sexual situations, even if he later kills them, hints at something truly terrible happening to him.

Given the way that Adrian reacts to sex, nudity, and prostitution, my guess is that he was sexually abused by his step father, and possibly forced to perform sex acts for his stepdad’s friends. Denier’s relationship with his foster parent was likely a mirror of Adrian’s with his stepfather. Adrian eventually murdered his stepfather in retaliation, and framed his mother for allowing the abuse to happen, just the way Denier murdered his foster-father and Adrian framed Leila for encouraging Denier.

Adrian saves the women he thinks are victims (Tess, Calumny’s mother, maybe Tippi), but he doesn’t like liars and abusers, like Calumny’s dad and (he assumes) Leila. He was especially vicious toward Denier’s sexual abuser, and heartless toward Jocasta/Jack, a gay (trans?) boy who lied. I believe he wanted to punish Tess for what she did to her father, but he saw her as a victim at the same time. She really was his favorite before Leila, but he won’t allow himself to have nice things.

I think that the theory that makes the most sense is that Adrian is a child that Ruth acquired from his parents because he was a computer prodigy. She had him raised in seclusion at a very private estate and never connected herself to him on any legal documents. Anyone who noticed him thought he was the servants’ child. She pushed him to work, hard, from a very young age, and he created Azana Planet almost singlehandedly. She then took credit for it, including putting her name on every single financial document.

She figured that he was too young to understand what she’d done and was a nobody with no money or power anyway. She forgot about his technological skills, which he used to ruin her life first, and to take control of the fortune that’s rightfully his. After having been raised in seclusion by such a cold woman and hurt so badly, Adrian developed scopophobia, in addition to his other issues. That’s why he stays out of sight and lives in the shadows.

Adrian can’t manipulate Leila the way he’s manipulated everyone else because she doesn’t have the emotional buttons that he depends on pushing. These are the buttons installed in girls by the modern Western culture that teaches us that women are never good enough and must always defer to men and put the needs of others above their own needs. They are the counterpoint to the toxic masculinity buttons installed in boys, which we see Adrian push in Force, Denier and Calumny.

He pushes each of the boys to believe that violence, of one kind or another, is the only answer, rather than using communication skills and asking for help, skills which code as female in our culture. He pushes Tess and Tippi into very feminine roles: seeking out friends, doing his real world communicating for him, cooking for the rest of the group and basing self worth on it.

Adrian is sure that Leila’s big issue is her mother’s death, and doesn’t know what to do with her when he finds that she’s not overly burdened with guilt or mixed feelings about her mother beyond what any normal person would feel. She wants someone to talk to about her mother, a normal human reaction, but there’s nothing toxic in that need for him to exploit.

Rather, Leila’s season 1 emotional arc is about saving Tess and bringing the warrior skills she has in the Azana world into the real world. Leila works through her feelings about not being able to save her mother by saving Tess from herself and from Adrian. By saving Tess, Leila proves that she can be a positive force in the world, not just someone who ends life. In the process, Leila discovers what she’s capable of, learns to believe in herself, and makes connections in the real world.

Adrian inadvertently gave Tess and Leila what he promised Red Pill would do for them. Tess now has a real friend who has stuck with her through the tough times and believes in her. She has someone who loves her no matter what. That support will carry her through future tough times, helping to keep her from falling quite so low.

The TV Tropes page for Kiss Me First has some interesting insights.

As of today, 9/21/18, Kiss Me First hasn’t been cancelled or renewed for season 2. With TV shows, I usually assume that no news is good news for the first 6-8 months, then I get worried that the show is quietly fading into oblivion. Almost all Netflix shows get 2 seasons, so there’s still hope.

As we stand now, Force is MIA, presumed alive by me. He was a double agent for the second half of the season, so there’s no way of telling which way he’ll go next season. Violence is a part of life for him, so I don’t think that someone hurting him (Leila) or him hurting them (Jack) defines his future feelings about them. Knowing Adrian, Force and Jack are in the same hospital, in which case Force won’t be able to keep himself from visiting Jack.

Jack is waking up from a coma after a severe beating by Force, his internet boyfriend, for lying about his identity. Jack can tell the police that Leila’s innocent, but then he incriminates Force, unless he lies and says it was a stranger who broke in. There’s no way to know yet how Jack will react to Force from now on. He could be understanding and forgiving or he could be angry/scared and get a restraining order against Force. But both he and Force are alone in the world, so that’s a powerful motivation to resume their friendship.

Tippi has gone to work for Azana in some capacity. The last time we saw her in person, Leila had left her lying on the ground after they fought in episode 5. Tippi made her way back to London and got the top execs at Azana to listen to her story and take her seriously with very little proof. Either Ruth or Adrian is behind her newfound fame. Either way, for the moment, Tippi is still useful and chosen. Maybe she’ll become Ruth’s adorable little girl who will be sweet and not outshine or challenge Mummy’s rule in any way.

Ruth seems to still be a prisoner in her own home. Adrian keeps her on a tight leash. I’m sure she got a message with instructions around the same time that Adrian called Leila, but Ruth’s wasn’t so personal. Maybe Ruth wanted the base protocol box so that she could use it to take down Adrian in her own way, to get him out of her life. That would explain why he would be so desperate to get it back, even though he gave it to Leila in the first place. He wants to get it before Ruth does.

Jonty is just happy to be here, wherever here is. He’s learned that it’s best if he follows orders.

  Images courtesy of Netflix.

Kiss Me First Season 1 Episode 6: You Can Never Go Home Recap Adrian has decided to move on from team sports to a one on one battle with Leila.

[meditativeyoga]

Cancer as a Teacher: Yoga and the Timeless Essence of Life

Today I was teaching a guy with Phase IV cancer. I led him via a yoga exercise practice as well as drew up the method in little pictograms so he might do it once more on his own. He is a veteran friend as well as has two preteen little girls. I educate him completely free, however I obtain so much from it. Maybe it is because my very own mother died of breast cancer cells when I was 18 that I feel such a connection to exactly what he is undergoing. All I understand is that it is a present for me.

I have been doing yoga because I was a youngster, and training yoga exercise because 2001. I focus on working with individuals on an one-on-one basis. I have had the excellent fortune to have actually researched with TKV Desikachar and also a number of his most severe students, that have shown me to concentrate on teaching people and also tailoring yoga exercise practices to fit their requirements. Team classes are advantageous, a personalized yoga exercise practice can permit a person to move much more deeply inward and have an even more profound impact on body, breath and also mind.

My friend is not in pretty shape. He moves gradually, however the most visible indication of the cancer cells is a very distended belly and widely bloated feet as well as legs because of edema. Today he used a set of oversized trousers as well as utilized suspenders to maintain them on. This is a male who mosted likely to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, as a youth was voted by his local Rotary Club to be the most likely to be successful and also is dazzling. More than that, he has a passionate connection with life as well as desiring to live.

As we are going with his yoga practice, I review exactly what it is that I do when training. I search for signs that the individual is relaxing and appreciating just what they are doing. I search for indicators of their breath obtaining longer and also smoother. In his case, it seems to be most effective to harness the exhale with sound, locating organic seem like humming or 'maa' to kick back body as well as mind.

As I educate, I am not thinking of including anything, nor about getting him to change. Instead, I want to develop a room where he could allow go of unneeded tension to ensure that he can feel even simply a bit better. The old mentors of yoga exercise inform us that the light of well-being already exists within. This may indicate that we each do something different, as well as for each of us there is a technique that is proper to the individual. This appropriate strategy is a process of negation.

Today, after our lesson, he said to me: 'Normally I'm in discomfort or discomfort for one reason or another. At times when I do yoga with you I feel bliss.' Recently he stated the yoga technique was 'a little item of paradise.'

At the end of our very first lesson a number of weeks back, I was stunned at just how I felt. I think I expected that working with him would bring up the despair I understanding of my mama, as well as that I would intend to have an excellent cry later. Instead, at the end of that lesson I really felt a powerful experience in my heart. I felt grateful.

It reminded me of the touching discovering that accompanied the fatality of my mother. It was an incredibly excruciating time for me, and I remained in shock. But together with that sorrow and also shock I had a clear assumption of the delicacy of our existence. Life appeared so brief, not as a saying, but as a truth. In addition to the cancer cells and after that her fatality, there was a brilliant clarity, a message. The message goes something such as this:

' Life is short. Your life is a gift. Bear in mind every minute that your time right here in this body, and on this strange earth is precious.' Today as we were completing our lesson, I felt such a feeling of appreciation and also integrity. We remained in a wordless, classic space. In my trainee's situation, there are no guarantees. I could not cure him, I'm not an oncologist. But as he has actually experienced, as I experience in my own method, yoga indicate a wellness as well as, yes, bliss, that is not simply of the body, however of the wholeness of which we are.

Breathe in the present, breathe out the gift. Relax.