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antiloreolympus · 3 years ago

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10 Anti LO Asks

1. I personally would be more willing to excuse the constant art mistakes and issues in LO if it was actually just Rachel doing it all herself. The fact the reality is actually her only sketching it out at best while her team of 4-5 people do the actual art is just inexcusable. The biggest selling point about it too is it's supposed to have great art, so why can't it even keep basic features correct? This is just ridiculous. How do you get more people working on it and it's only worse for it?

2. I think its PJO that said Gods can easily change how they appear (PJO Aphrodite for example looks how the viewer finds attractive, while PJO Persephone's looks change off the seasons) but that's all established and confirmed very early in the series and has in-universe explanations. LO has none of this minus "emotional hair" (???) so there is really no excuse Rachel & her 5+ person team can't even keep Hades' nose right. It's honestly a bit ridiculous how art issues are more frequent than not.

3. IDK why Rachel keeps pushing for Hera and Persephone to be the same person bc not only does that imply Hades wants Hera but is using Persephone to replace her, but Hera sucks?? She's an elitist jerk, she's racist against nymphs unless they're "one of the good ones" (🤢) she claims to be so loyal yet cheats on Zeus with his BROTHER, she neglects her kids to were her 8 year old has to act like an adult, she lies to her own sister, etc. Why would you want Persephone be ANYTHING like her?

4. About that thing about the kings using a fertility goddess (Gaia, Rhea) to gain power... did Rachel entirely miss that the kings themselves ARE fertility gods? Cronus is straight up an earth god, Uranus and Zeus are both sky gods (=rain)

5. sorry, no amount of "thats just the angle!" or "that's just the lighting!" can excuse rachel's piss poor character designing. the character's whole faces, bodies, and skin colors shouldn't change literally every other panel unless its copied and pasted the same panel, which even then theyre still often redrawn to look different and thus off model once again. There's no part of the story confirming their have fluid looks, so it looks even more ridiculous it can't keep even basic things on model.

6. You fools. Clearly the more creepy and controlling he gets about Persephone the longer his nose grows. Why do you think he looks even more like a swordfish now? I’ve cracked the code.

7. I’m not saying bad faith critique of LO doesn’t exist but I’m really disturbed over how the stans act like BIPOC readers, LGBTQ+ readers, SA survivors, Greeks, etc critiquing it’s very real flaws and issues that are sold to literal children is just lumped under that same bad faith argument or “being an anti”. Like?? We’re not arguing about stupid ships, we’re critiquing how it sexualizes a girl that’s barely legal, a story that frames the poor as the real oppressors to the rich and powerful, a story that uses sexual assault to push a creepy, power imbalanced ship along, a comic that spits in the face of the culture and stories it’s butchering and profiting off of, a story that (I will hope unintentionally) has very real implications of racism and antisemitism, a story that frames a slave owner and potential groomer as the best man ever, a story that took a famous bisexual god and made him the abuser to a poor little straight girl, a story claiming to be feminist yet is deeply rooted in pushing misogynistic messages, and the list goes on and on. That’s not “anti” behavior, it’s being able to critically consume this media and not being blinded by marketing and the bright colors it can’t keep consistent.

8. I feel so bad when I think about the fact I wasted all my time and energy into Lore Olympus fanart, fanfiction, fandom (discussions, theories and even arguing), compared to when I used to be in other fandoms. Like... League Of Legends fandom, yeah, that boring and ugly moba game, has made me feel much more fulfilled and welcomed, especially because of how many amazing story and world building related things they provide from time to time.

Yes, Smythe doesn't have much money to provide the fandom with interesting animations, or exclusive music videos or just basically anything other than doodles and memes and concept art... But still for some reason I feel so cheated. The amount of love and time I dedicated to Lore Olympus feels heavily one-sided.

Now it's a matter of time until another fandom will pull me in and I leave Lore Olympus behind for good. I just don't understand what kept me here so long. I suppose it's my need for closure is why I still stay. I just need to know how it ends because I don't want this whole time I wasted on this bad piece of media to be in vain.

9. I think In trying to make the comic more “serious” Rachel seems to think adding more complicated plots and “twists” makes it better, but it really doesn’t. There’s nothing wrong with telling a simple story and that’s it, especially when the hymn is pretty straightforward in what to do with it. Idk why she thinks adding plots about Kronos, Leto, Eros, Daphne, Echo, AOW, etc would somehow improve a story about HxP getting together, yet here we are.

10. Not only is Hera a Fertility Goddess despite Rachel's lack of world building, Hera also has a huge overlap with Zeus in terms of powers, such as herself being able to control the weather, cause storms, and crumble empires if she saw fit. There is a reason Zeus and Hera were paired and it wasn't just their for spicy romance, it was also the fact he was the strongest god and she was the strongest goddess. Rachel very purposely nuked Hera of her real power and still thinks she's "empowering" her!

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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tossawary · 4 years ago

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I rewatched Princess Mononoke (and also The Cat Returns) yesterday, which reminded me of how often I’ve seen the “I’ll kill you” / “You’re beautiful” moment redrawn as various fandom OTPs. Many of them are very lovely drawings, but... I’ve pretty much never been able to get into Princess Mononoke AUs because... it’s like... I personally cannot separate the aesthetics (or any part) of Princess Mononoke from its hard-hitting messages on environmentalism, humanity’s relationship with nature, and the death of the wild, etc..

Like... these couples just don’t have what San and Ashitaka have.

Lovely drawings! And the “I’ll kill you” / “You’re beautiful” dialogue is fun and doesn’t not fit many of these relationships! It’s a fun scene to independently borrow / reinterpret! I do love seeing these redraws!

But when it comes to full Princess Mononoke AUs or Fusion AUs, personally I feel like the first thing I’d have to do is write at least ten pages of notes working out the themes and conflict of a new take on this story that could possibly make me feel a tenth of what I feel when that guy says, “I didn’t know the Forest Spirit made the flowers grow,” at the end of the movie.

(Me, appreciating this nice art: also resolutely ignoring the little voice in the back of my head shouting about the missing themes of loathing for your own species’ selfishness and rejecting / accepting your own humanity.)

So, yeah, I could write a Princess Mononoke Fusion AU for SVSSS or something (it’s probably far better suited to MDZS or, though I haven’t read it yet, even TGCF)... but like... I would almost certainly put way too much thought into it and the amount of personal emotion I would pour into it would probably read like I was trying to rip hearts out. Every time I so much as lean towards thinking about and properly thinking out a Princess Mononoke Fusion AU for anything, I pat the idea on the head and then turn away because that’s a level of energy I’m usually not into giving at that moment.

(For the curious, I probably wouldn’t write a direct AU for SVSSS, but rather just borrow some plot points and general shapes from Princess Mononoke for a Canon Divergence AU, then go with the fic being about Luo Binghe’s relationship to the human and demon sides of himself, especially after being pushed into the Abyss by someone he trusted and loved, and explore that self-loathing. Plus his frustration with this world (the world of PIDW) being a world of constant selfish power grabs (Airplane had to make money by keeping it chaotic) with no appreciation for what makes life worth living (LBH’s late adopted mother crying time). I’d probably bring in Tianlang-Jun’s own issues with all this and then Luo Binghe’s relationship with his lost father for good measure.

So the “I’ll kill you” / “You’re beautiful” confrontation would be Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu (SY), but the lines would shift to something like: “What do you have to say for yourself?” / “...You grew up so well.”)

Also, I’m, like, irrationally mildly concerned that if I dare to strip the heartbreaking environmental themes from Princess Mononoke, Mr. Miyazaki will magically manifest in my house to give me the worst disappointed look.

#tossawary svsss #fic ideas #svsss princess mononoke fusion au #luo binghe #bingqiu

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years ago

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A bunch of stuff about soccer is below the “keep reading” link. Some personal stories about a friend of mine from my own sport, but those personal stories are also about soccer. It has gotten unexpectedly long, so that’s why I’m adding the short summary and then the link. Not because there’s anything offensive in there, unless you really hate soccer.

I’ve now listened to 272 proper episodes of The Bugle (proper episodes as in John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman talking for anywhere from 28 to 43 minutes about the news of the week, it’s around 100 more than that if you count the filler episodes), and I have heard two exactly episodes that spent the entire time on one subject. There were a bunch of times when something huge dominated the news so much that they could barely discuss anything else, but they still managed it. The week Obama was elected in 2008, first black president of the United States and ending the eight-year reign of George W. Bush, they talked about almost nothing but that, but still did a quick round-up of non-American news stories. When the Arab Spring stories were at their most intense points, they still took a little bit of their allotted studio time to say, “And here are some things happening outside of Northern Africa, even though none of it seems to matter by comparison to entire countries getting redrawn.” The week Osama Bin Laden was killed, the weeks that their own then-parent company News International went to criminal trials, the week of the royal wedding, the week Margaret Thatcher died. All times when they temporarily became an almost single-issue podcast, but still covered other things.

The two episodes during which they covered nothing but one single issue were in June 2010 and June 2014. World Cup months. It turns out there is a hell of a lot to say about the World Cup. So much to say. Far more than I’ve ever needed to hear.

I have to say, that is one thing I have really learned about Britain since I started this journey through Britcom during the COVID era. I did watch some British comedy shows while I was growing up, but they were mostly sitcoms from the 70s and 80s, so not a huge amount of sports talk (there was enough talk about it for me to learn that they don’t call it “sports” over there, but they’re wrong). It wasn’t until the last couple of years that I watched/listened to a lot of shows that had British people talking while not in character, and I learned just how much time they spend talking about soccer (I did of course also know when I was a kid that they don’t call it soccer over there, and to be fair they’re right about that one, it makes much more sense to call it “football” than soccer, but I live in Canada and don’t want to sound a pretentious asshole who’s pretending to be British, so I need to keep saying it wrong).

Before, I did know that soccer is a big thing in parts of the world that are not North America. I didn’t think that was a complete lie or anything, I just didn’t comprehend the scale. I thought it was a sort of hyperbolic stereotype. I mean, growing up in Canada, the media has also led me to believe that all British people have terrible teeth and drink nothing but tea and warm beer, and can only have sex through sheets with holes in them due to their repressed Victorian natures. I had heard that they were all repressed tea drinkers who were obsessed with soccer, but I figured that was at least a bit exaggerated. Like, maybe they drink a little more tea than we do. Maybe over there, soccer is a competitive sport that’s regularly on television, rather than just a thing parents put their kids in during summer break to keep them active, until those kids turn about 12 and develop their own interests.

Of course, I have now learned that I could not have been more wrong. Not only is the “obsessed with soccer” stereotype not exaggerated, it is understated. Even if I assumed the British, as a general group of people, were exactly as obsessed with soccer as the stereotypes I’d heard suggested, I would still have wildly underestimated how significant that sport is in that country. At least, I’d have underestimated how significant it is to British people who are on the television shows I watch. I’m sure there are plenty of British people who don’t give a shit about it, and to those people I can only say, I am so sorry. I hope you have a support group or something for people who have to put up with such a pervasive element of that culture while not giving a shit.

The Bugle episode in which they spent the whole time discussing nothing but the 2014 World Cup reminded me that I did have one indication, before my COVID-era Britcom journey, of the scope of global obsession with this sport. Because I know it’s not just Britain that’s into soccer, it’s basically everywhere that isn’t Canada or the United States. Which is so weird to me, that the sport that’s a joke over here – we only talk about it to make fun of how nothing ever happens in it, or to use it as the quintessential example of a game only children play – is so wildly popular worldwide. And really, I guess that’s not a bad thing. The fact that nothing happens in it means it’s probably better for humanity to have that as the most popular sport than hockey, the biggest sport here in Canada, which is responsible for huge numbers of concussions and other lifelong problems. And I’m sure soccer has far fewer injuries per player than the big sport in America, which is American football (a sport for which I also have no respect, just in case anyone thinks I’m sounding too “American” in this post). And soccer is at least less boring than baseball, the other big American sport.

Anyway. In the summer of 2014, I had a friend from New Zealand stay with me for a couple of weeks. He spent a year living in my Canadian home city, where he’d moved to train with my team in the run-up to the 2014 Commonwealth Games in Glasgow. He moved up here before he’d even qualified for the Games, taking a huge risk, because he might lose the qualifiers and do it for nothing (I mean, he had a great time in Canada and made wonderful friends such as myself, but a cross-hemisphere move would be a lot to do for a goal he may not achieve). He didn’t lose the qualifiers. He came up to my city in 2013, and then flew back to various bits of Oceania to do the multiple qualifiers, won them, and got to go to Glasgow for the 2014 Games. It was very exciting.

The whole Road to Glasgow thing was a means to another end, as he hoped to use that international experience to make him ready for an Olympic run in 2016. That isn’t really important to the story, except that it further emphasizes how seriously he took our sport and his place in it. He was a serious, international-calibre competitive athlete with Olympic-level goals. Those ended up working out, by the way. He did qualify for the 2016 Olympics. He went to Rio. He weighed in (I’ve been trying to avoid saying this out of privacy-protecting habit, but I have recently hidden this blog from search engines and that makes me much less concerned about things like that, so fuck it, the sport is wrestling, where everyone cuts huge amounts of weight for big competitions and it’s a dangerous and very unhealthy practice that’s deeply embedded wrestling’s culture so really we’d probably all be better off playing soccer), made weight, got listed on the draw sheet. Then he blew his knee out while doing some routine drills in a practice room hours before he was meant to compete, and withdrew from the competition. So I can technically say I have a friend who’s an Olympian, even though he never actually competed at the Olympics. He did get close enough to get the gear, though. I have a t-shirt that was part of the official merchandise of the 2016 New Zealand Olympic team, since he picked up a few extra shirts to give to some of his Canadian friends to thank us for helping him out in his training. I am genuinely proud to own that.

Anyway. Back to the actual story. In 2014, I lived in a city that was a few hours away from my home city, where my home team was, and where my New Zealand friend spent most of his time in Canada. I’d gone away for university, to compete for a varsity team. In the last few weeks before the Commonwealth Games, he wanted a different challenge, so he spent two weeks living on my couch and training with my university team. I’d gotten to know him before then because I made frequent trips back home and we were often at the same tournaments, but we bonded a lot in those two weeks, and had a great time together.

During those few weeks, he was training very hard, and he also cut a lot of weight for the 2014 Commonwealth Games. This required many weeks of having everything he ate or drank, and every move he made, very carefully planned and monitored. Cutting that much weight absolutely sucks, and everything that happens during the weight cutting period fucking sucks. No one enjoys stuff that happens in the run-up to a tournament for which they’ve had to cut that much weight. They just sit around feeling miserable, getting in their training and whatever work they have to do to keep their life going, and otherwise, they do nothing because life sucks. (Again, seriously, this is a very fucked up thing that is deeply ingrained in our sport and I do not condone it even though I have participated in it, when I was a competitive athlete in high school and in university I cut very unhealthy amounts of weight and I still have disordered eating issues as a result of that, as a coach I try to make sure my athletes only cut safe amounts of weight and only do it safely, but it’s still very bad overall, we’d probably be better off if we all just played soccer.)

So. My friend is living on my couch, doing his last few weeks of training before the big Commonwealth Games, on a strict enough diet and exercise weight-cutting regimen to make life miserable, and still, still somehow found the energy to go on all the fucking time about the fucking World Cup. He and I got along great while he stayed with me, we stayed up after practices watching Tim Minchin and Flight of the Conchords videos in my living room, and the only point on which we severely different was fucking soccer. Because the World Cup was happening at the time, and he cared so much.

This is why I consider it relevant to the story to add the stuff about the planned Olympic run and how he’d turned his whole life upside down to pursue his international wrestling dreams, in a way that was really coming to a peak right before the Commonwealth Games. After his weeks of living on my couch, he flew straight to Glasgow to compete at that major international tournament, before going back to New Zealand to start training for Rio 2016. He was cutting about 15 kilos. But still, still, he found the time and energy to go on non-stop about soccer. He brought up every World Cup game on his computer and tried to make me watch with him. For the finals, he dragged me out to sports bars to watch the games on the TVs there. He bribed me by buying my beers for the night, even though he could not drink beer or anything except water while we were there, because of his weight cut. On multiple nights he spent hours at bar, paying money for me while being unable to eat or drink or enjoy anything himself, just so he could have some other people around while he watched soccer. He talked about it constantly, for weeks.

He was so very emotionally invested in the World Cup, even though his own people were not involved! I’m pretty sure New Zealand didn’t even compete in the World Cup that year. I don’t know, maybe they were in it at some point, but what I remember is a lot of talk about Germany and Argentina and Brazil, even though no one I knew was from any of those places. I was genuinely amazed that he could pull his focus away from his intense training for a sport in which he was actually participating, to give so many shits about a bunch of people he’d never meet who were playing a game he did not play while representing countries that were not his.

That time was honestly my first time understanding just how much non-North Americans care about soccer. But I sort of thought that was just him. Now I know how wrong I was. And when I listened to John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman dedicate an entire Bugle episode from June 2014 to nothing but World Cup talk, all I could think was… ah, that takes me back. Simpler times. It’s almost nostalgic to sit here and think “Oh my God, are you almost done going on about the 2014 World Cup?” Because I spent several weeks saying that back in 2014, when the world was an easier place.

I am aware the 2022 is a World Cup year. My Olympian friend is now happily living in Australia with his wife and two children, and I do miss him. I’ve kept in touch with him – a few of my Canadian friends and I went down to New Zealand for his wedding in 2016, and he’s visited Canada a couple of times since then, and we do occasional nights of beers over Zoom. But at this moment, on the brink of another world cup, I am very fucking pleased to have him not living in my house.

I’m pretty sure the 2022 World Cup will even be almost done by the time The Last Leg starts its new season, so I shouldn’t hear too much about it from those guys either. I think I’ll be able to spend most of spring/summer 2022 not knowing what’s happening in the international soccer tournament, and therefore, there is exactly one small way in which 2022 is slightly better than the otherwise superior 2014.

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aalapdavjekar · 3 years ago

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8 Lessons from Vipassana

2010 was a peculiar year. It was the year in which I found the great fortune of stumbling upon a book about the bizarre incidents and experiences of an Australian girl voyaging through the Indian subcontinent. The book — a 21st century rewrite of the lore of the hippie trail, offered little towards cerebral surprises, but made for a curious viewing of the life of someone who was brave (or foolish) enough to have gone through all the trouble that she did for the experiences she sought.

The author chronicled days spent discovering religion and spiritual heaven while avoiding hell — nosy neighbours, opportunistic rickshaw-wallas, and the odd would-be rapist. She portrays an all too familiar India — the world’s spiritual shopping mall serving food-poisoning on Tuesdays, vehicular accidents every Friday, and frightening latrines as a daily course. Not all of her pages carried so much drama, but they laid out a rough sketch of the trials and tribulations of the average foreigner in attempting to make sense of the country.

The smallest chapter in the book spoke to me the most. There was a tiny passage that depicted the joy and punishing solitude of the type rarely considered as thrill — monastic rituals, austere and rigorous routines, distress and hardship — it seemed a bit too much for anyone, let alone a solo adventurer. And yet, it seemed like just about the only thing she really enjoyed during her trip.

That was my introduction to Vipassana. That first memory is still fresh: the desire to confront this awkward specimen of a situation for myself, only because, at the time, it seemed so bizarre. To my ignorant mind, I could not have comprehended the result of ten long days (and nights), sitting around without the utterance of a single syllable. If nothing else, it would just be yet another substance: to taste, chew on, spit out, and rave about having conquered yet another mountain of sensory input; spin it all into a tall tale of profundity and wisdom.

Thankfully, the taste was sweet. To me, this became pretty important. It felt like a gigantic discovery and I often found myself proselytizing like a broken record for days after the first course. I eventually stopped for being seen as a bit of a nuisance, however, my fascination with the practice only grew with time. In those ten short days, I had experienced a deep, resounding change from within. As difficult as the journey had been, I only knew I had to keep going.

That was all ten years ago. 2010 was peculiar, but a dozen Vipassana courses later, life only became weirder.

It’s the stark contrast that gets you; the juxtaposition of life inside a course, and then witnessing the world outside. It is hard to illustrate and is not really the point of this post, but I mention it only because I’d like to warn you that many of the lessons I’ve learnt are all experiential truths. Simply engaging the intellect is not enough. You can’t describe the taste of salt to someone who has never experienced it before, and you can’t learn to swim simply by reading about it.

With that said, understand that even though I have been practicing for a while, it does not mean I have achieved any form of mastery over my practice. I still consider this as the just the first step in a very long path. I share these insights, all of which have broadened and enriched my understanding of not only myself, but of all-encompassing experience existence in itself. My only hope is to encourage you to sit down and focus on your breath.

1. Relaxing meditation is more like aggressive deconditioning…

The mind is a big ball of accumulated, tightly-knotted habits. Habits are not merely mundane proclivities like picking your nose, or a preference for K-pop. Habits are the set of all unconscious tendencies, picked up over the course of one’s life and through generations past, resulting in present thought, action, or both. Natural instincts such as the struggle to survive and the urge for sexual gratification are among the densest of elements residing within the mental landscape.

Mental forces are easiest to imagine when you think of them as analogous to Newton’s Third Law: each action has an equal and opposite reaction. As the mind sees, the mind does. Cause and effect. Through millions of years of evolution, the mind has been shaped to recognize and react to patterns. Certain emotions may result in specific thoughts. Certain thoughts may result in specific behaviours.

When you sit down to practice Vipassana, you essentially train yourself to observe the mind without reacting. The process may not seem like much but, with time, the simple act of observation decreases the rigidity and impulsiveness of the mind. Gradually, the simple act of watching it unravel before you, unveiling its knots until they loosen and eventually fade away, brings about a significant change. This does not mean that after ten days of meditation you will deprogram your mind and achieve liberation. It is a very gradual process. Believe me. Even after all these years, I’ve only scratched the surface and, so far, I’ve managed to adopt a slightly better diet. But I have better focus, more clarity of thought, less anxiety, and things that used to drive me crazy don’t annoy me as much anymore.

Meditation will change your brain. Thoughts included.

2. You are your mind’s weak, pathetic slave.

At any given time, you have very little conscious ability to overrule your genetic programming, emotional state, and natural surroundings (many have even argued that there is no such thing as conscious control and free will is an illusion, but that is a discussion for another time). The goal of meditation is to break free from the mind’s thrall: it’s patterns of thought. That’s the liberation that meditators keep referring to time and again.

If you find it hard to believe how little control you have over your mind, try to focus continuously on the breath just for a few minutes and notice the amount of thoughts that manage to pop up. You’ll quickly see how easily the mind is carried away. It’ll drift away, either to the future, or to the past. Bringing it back and keeping it in the present is a constant, seemingly endless struggle.

Our toxic addiction to our own thoughts creates the biggest hurdle. Over the course of our lives, we have been conditioned by our parents, school, society, even language, to think a certain way. Like the words we associate with objects to learn the alphabet in kindergarten, we continuously associate abstractions — words — to ideas; to the way things work. Our names for objects, people, places, feelings, situations, etc. are just names. They are concepts that are formed in the mind. In other words, our brain holds maps to reality which are drawn and redrawn over the course of our lives. But the map is not the territory, yet we are constantly under the delusion that the map is real.

Our fascination and attachment to our artificial concepts of what is real, important, and urgent is what hinders progress— the practice is essentially training the mind not to identify with one’s thoughts. In other words, to heal trauma, you need to learn to dissociate with the feeling which triggers the trauma. Trauma comes in many shapes. It may take the form of the stories that we forge for ourselves to make sense of who we are. The story we tell ourselves turns into the very bondage that keeps us in indefinite servitude to the mind.

The mind is a slippery serpent, as dangerous when untamed as it is powerful when mastered. Most beginners often find it frustrating how difficult it is to ‘control’ their minds. But therein lies the effort. It is a skill to be cultivated like any other. Exasperation and the desire to stop is a natural byproduct of the conditioning described earlier. There is an inertia to progress that needs to be continuously overcome. With time, it gets easier.

Meditation is simply a tool to harness and rein in the unruly mind.

3. Everything is connected. Every action has a consequence, and it matters.

This can be argued as a simple scientific principle. Richard Feynman in his lecture, “The Relation of Physics to Other Sciences,” describes the artificial divisions we create, forming a myriad of distinct models of understanding to comprehend and explain to ourselves aspects of the same reality. Brian Cox takes it even further.

My understanding leans towards the philosophical side, but bear with me. Most religions and spiritual traditions preach purity of mind, speech, and deed. Whether through scripture or ritual, they teach compassion, loving kindness, mercy and wisdom. I’ve realized that there’s more to this than mere morality.

To greatly simplify this, let’s imagine the world as a closed, finite system — something like a small swimming pool. Any kind of movement results in ripples that gradually extend across the body of water, affecting everything in their path. Eventually, given enough time, those ripples will bounce right back to whence they came. Sooner or later, your actions will meet their maker. But don’t mistake this as a need to be nice out of selfish necessity. The picture is bigger than this.

The world, much like our hypothetical swimming pool, is a melting pot of events resulting from simultaneous interactions causing countless, spontaneous consequences. It’s a chain reaction and an ocean of chaos, with the ebb and flow of individual currents that mingle, coalesce and form waves, crashing into one another to give us the great churning of the wheel that Buddhists speak of, and the agitation that we are almost too familiar with.

The turbulence, in essence, is the mind being washed away with the tide, engulfed and drowned in the vicissitudes of a constantly changing life. To remain steadfast and solid in such stormy waters would require nothing short of supreme mastery in the art of mindfulness. A cornerstone of such an endeavour requires the cultivation of a conscious effort to sustain complete awareness and acceptance for the present moment.

When one remains vigilant of thought, speech, and deed, and acquires a resolute and unwavering focus, then all the torment the ocean can muster will be but powerless against this tranquil state of mind. But even beyond that, tranquility will give way to reflection, understanding, and empathy. In other words, when you respond to anger with love, you cast water over the fire.

With practice, each action undertaken will arrive with more effort, more purpose and consideration. That is the delicate insight to be gained — that every action, every moment, every breath is sacred. Every bit of conscious presence is a gift to be treasured.

4. Nothing matters as much as you think it does…

Vipassana meditation is an exercise in cultivating insight through self-observation. You watch your breath and the sensations across your body as they arise and pass away, each time acknowledging their transient and impermanent nature. That, you come to realize, is the truth of all reality.

You realize that suffering is a form of mental attachment, not to any external object, but to the sensation that object has on your mind. This attachment is sometimes so subtle and imperceptible that it is impossible to witness it without a mind that is steady and calm. These attachments are what cause dukkha or suffering. Attachments are not limited to sensations that feel good. Any sensation that makes you feel like had more of it or less of it — desire and aversion — is attachment. The mind runs after pleasure, runs from fear and pain. These are attachments and they are a hindrance to the practice.

As you grow into your practice, you will gradually slip out of your old patterns of thought, replacing them with a more open, willing, and fluid presence of mind. What once bothered you may gradually dissolve into nothingness. What once seemed as part of you, possessed you, caused emotional havoc when you didn’t get what you wanted, might simply vanish from existence. No, you won’t turn into an emotionless robot. No it won’t make you give up everything in life, turn into a vagrant and move to the beach, unless you already desired those things. Meditation will only help sort out what you really want.

Practice will help you detach yourself from your thoughts until you realize that your thoughts are not you. Feelings come, feelings go. They are impermanent, and they don’t matter. All it requires is time and the simple act of observation.

5. You are not an experiential bubble.

For many beginners trying to embrace the many forms of mindfulness, one of the toughest obstacles to overcome is doubt. It may be doubt in oneself, doubt in the practice, doubt in one’s teacher, and so on. But it’s a natural response to something new, especially to those completely unfamiliar with these types of practices. Imparting trust is a transactional habit. Unless one is certain of attainable benefits and can measure their worth, they may find an unwillingness to take even the first step.

Couple a doubtful mind with the myriad of mental encounters one may face during meditation and the result might just kill the desire for practice. People have reported everything from swirling lights, out-of-body experiences, synesthesia, to demons. This is not unusual. Meditation is a gateway into the unconscious — a surgical procedure as S.N. Goenka, the person who brought the teaching of Vipassana back to India, describes. Through the process of Sankharupekkha (observing mental formations with equanimity), the practitioner encounters dormant impurities in the unconscious that rise to the surface of the mind, and manifest themselves as physical phenomenon.

Juxtaposed with modern-day culture, the meditative experience stands out like a sore thumb, often causing its students great confusion and mistrust in the very quality of what they are learning. It doesn’t help that the ideas and general philosophy presented by spiritual traditions are outright antithetical to “western” schools of thought.

Concepts such as avidya, anicca, dukkha, shunyata, samsara and nirvana are like salt. These are concepts that are almost impossible to understand through mere language—one must personally taste them. They are often horribly misconstrued and usually thrown out, replaced by a far shallower understanding that barely skims the surface of the teaching, conflating meditation with stress reduction and labour productivity. After all, these are the values our industrial societies can easily relate to.

We often make it harder on ourselves by letting our experiences fester. Remember to talk about them, discuss them, debate their true essence, and let them be out in the open. Let these ideas, however alien, achieve coherence and solidity. Give them a better chance to struggle and survive. There are many people out there experiencing the same reality, watching the same movie, feeling the same thing. The emotional outlet, especially when you are starting out in this practice is immensely valuable. It’s a small thing but it matters.

After my first ten-day Vipassana course came to a close, as the new students could finally open their mouths and start speaking with each other about their ten days spent in silence, we could all see the benefits this strange new thing had given us. I was in a room full of fifty-odd people that seemed to have had a similar experience in the course as I did. They all seemed calmer than on the first day, happier for having made it through; in the process, they had visibly changed. That’s what brought forth trust in the system; not only because it seemed to work across a diverse set of people, but because it made me realize that we are all in the same boat.

6. Compassion takes practice.

There is no absolute right or wrong. Understanding which is which requires not only context but patience. An impulsive and ignorant mind does not have the capacity to form correct judgement. An angry and intolerant person cannot be trusted to make rational and thoughtful decisions. Why do you need to develop proper judgement? The simplest possible answer: to progress in your practice. Hence, while Vipassana may bring insight, on the last day of each course, students are taught a slightly different type of meditation.

Metta, meaning ‘loving-kindness’, is a type of meditation that involves concentrating on directing love towards ourselves and others, even those (especially those) who may have hurt us. A daily practice of metta has its benefits, but most significant of all, is the way it complements insight meditation and brings out lasting, positive changes in mind and body.

The feeling is hard to describe, but all I can say is that (at the risk of sounding cliched), through the course of one’s life, pain is an inevitability, but suffering through the pain is a choice. With regular practice in metta, instead of being swept away by one’s emotions, one learns to consciously bring awareness to the suffering being experienced and replace it with compassionate and loving thoughts. Suffering is simply a negative reaction of the mind to any form of pain. With practice, mental aversion to pain gradually fades. Like mental ointment, compassion can heal the deepest of wounds.

But compassion takes practice. Think of it as learning a new language. Even if you have no prior experience reading the script or pronouncing the words, with time, you might just achieve fluency.

Compassion towards all beings, regardless of the situation, is an important goal for anyone serious about walking the path. When you emanate a constant stream of loving thoughts without ever missing a beat, then you might definitely consider yourself having changed for the better.

7. It’s all just glorified play.

By the time children reach the age of 3 or 4, their ego begins to form a cohesive identity — a map of themselves: I am this, I like that, I want to be so and so. Whether through nature or nurture, the child learns to take on a role for themselves depending on what the situation may bring: during interactions with their parents, with other children, and with society in general.

From an early age, children are engaged in play. Their games may be diverse, but are usually a form of role-playing: tea parties, dollhouses, make-believe — simulations of the adult world, to test its boundaries and see how things react. Fueled by curiosity and the joy of discovery, they rehearse and solidify their understanding of their surroundings, finding their place in the greater familial and societal picture, and simultaneously strengthen their masks of identity.

The masks we carry, birthed from the ego, may be necessary for our survival, but they are simply roles — the games we continue to play even as adults, with ourselves and with others. When the student of Vipassana comes to notice their own desires and attachments to the world, the identity of the self is often seen as the greatest attachment. It is the great epic; the story of ourselves that we’re so engrossed in writing and reciting— and madly in love with.

This story never ends. It lies permanently in the state of becoming: I am like this, I like that, I want to be so and so. The attachment to a false idea of oneself is the most difficult thing to witness and understand. It is the biggest delusion of the mind, and the greatest hindrance to one’s liberation from samsara — the endless cycle of birth and death. Whether you choose to believe that is unimportant, but recognising one’s tendencies to cling to one’s beliefs, one’s masks and identity, is a crucial process towards self-discovery and insight.

Recognising the mind for what it is — a constant stream of consciousness always in flux — will bring you a step closer to deciphering it.

8. You Know Nothing.

I know nothing. For knowing involves being certain, but if everything is impermanent and things are constantly in flux, then nothing can be certain.

To understand how truly inept we are at comprehending reality, consider the incredibly narrow spectrum of perception our brains provide. Our sensory organs: the eyes, ears, nose, tongue and skin offer only a slice of all the information that they come into contact with.

The eyes, for example, see only a thin slice of the electromagnetic spectrum, which we call visible light. Similarly, our hearing is restricted to frequencies of sound that fall between 20 Hz and 20 kHz. In the same way, we carry only a limited cognitive capability and intelligence.

It’s a humbling thought. At the very least, reminding oneself of the fragility of one’s understanding is a way to minimize cognitive bias. Further, since no one knows anything, knowing you know nothing will actually put you a step ahead of most people.

“I am wiser than this human being. For probably neither of us knows anything noble and good, but he supposes he knows something when he does not know, while I, just as I do not know, do not even suppose that I do. I am likely to be a little bit wiser than he in this very thing: that whatever I do not know, I do not even suppose I know.” — Plato’s Apology of Socrates

Similarly, from the Dhammapada:

“A fool who knows his foolishness is wise at least to that extent, but a fool who thinks himself wise is a fool indeed.”

Lastly, Shunryu Suzuki, a Japanese Zen Master calls the state of knowing nothing the “beginner’s mind,” the constant prerequisite for progressing in one’s practice:

“The goal of practice is always to keep our beginner’s mind. This does not mean a closed mind, but actually an empty mind and a ready mind. If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind there are few.” — from Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind

May all beings be happy.

#meditation #vipassana #insight #zen #buddhism #philosophy #wisdom

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universallywriting · 4 years ago

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Summary: With decadent amounts of romance, Steven and Connie work out their feelings and plans for the future.

Preview:

Boundaries could not wait.

Plenty of things in their relationship could, but that wasn’t one of them. Steven, even without the recent relationship changes, had always expressed himself through touch, and neither of them could feel comfortable without an easy discussion. Could he touch? Could she? Where? How? With careful but clear language, they decided above the waist was just fine for them both, along with the casual, friendly touches to legs and knees that had always been a part of their relationship.

Lines of consent were quickly redrawn with romance in mind. There were things they were comfortable with and things they weren’t, and regardless of what other people their age might have been doing, they were happy to go far slower than other teen counterparts. A bit of tension faded from the two of them as that was settled.

They took a break from talking after that. Their campsite set up and marked in their minds, they each grabbed a premade sandwich and set off on a quiet hike. They were back to silence being warm and comfortable rather than tense and awkward, which Connie thought might have been a bigger relief than anything else.

Without the need to chatter, they enjoyed a few lazy hours of the afternoon. Only a few words passed between them, even as they returned to their campsite. By the time they arrived, Connie noted that Steven’s shoulders had gone from tight and tensed to loose, and her own jaw was aching slightly as the stress that had kept it clenched eased away.

When Steven started heating up a half-cooked bag of tomato soup over their fire, Connie held a little bag of dried basil to her chest. She held them close and tried to love something enough to make the plant spring back to life with little success.

“Only the portals and the sword are easy to make happen,” she said with a sigh. She massaged the herbs in their little packet, but there didn’t seem to be even the faintest change in their color or smell of texture. “Everything else I can only make stop. What about you?”

“I guess the stuff that’s been happening to me isn’t really new powers,” he said thoughtfully as he turned the wooden spoon through the heavy pot. “I know what my powers are, you know? I haven’t gotten any new ones. I mean, I have, but… they’re not really mine.”

“I think I get what you mean,” she said with a grin. “But I was asking for magic lessons.”

“Oh, gees.” He laughed and ducked his head. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. This is probably a better talk.” She sat up and set the bag of basil aside. “I think I’ve felt what you mean. Some stuff doesn’t really feel like I’m doing anything. It’s not some magic or emotion I’m turning on or off. It’s just a part of me now. The stuff Pearl told me about - sensing where you are.”

He nodded as he looked down into the pot, a small quirk to his lips. “And feeling your feelings. You always have a piece of me with you, so I know where you are. It’s like when I close my eyes and know where my hands are.”

“It’s like fusion. The places where we blend together.” She pushed to her feet, coming over to look into the pot and enjoy the wonderful, familiar scent of woodfire and smoke. “I haven’t had a lot of luck with those powers. I don’t feel stuff the way you do.”

#steven universe #steven universe future #fic #connverse #connie maheswaran #second user

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sailorfailures · 5 years ago

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ColourPop is dropping a Sailor Moon collab on Feb 20th and I have some Opinions

It’s the moment Sailor Moon makeup geeks have been waiting for - ColourPop cosmetics, noted for their affordable and colourful official pop culture makeup collaborations, has announced a Sailor Moon collaboration containing an eyeshadow palette, two liquid lipsticks, two lip glosses, two blushes, and two body glitters. Most likely this collab is being timed with the 25th Anniversary of Sailor Moon’s debut in North America to contrast with Japanese cosmetics from brands like Creer Beaute and Shiseido, which were released for the Japanese 25th anniversary.

Source: ColourPopCo on Twitter

After my initial excitement about the long-awaited collaboration died down, I was left with a somewhat disappointing realisation... this entire collab, over a total of nine products, was not about Sailor Moon: The Show... it was about Sailor Moon, the character.

When I imagine a makeup collection for Sailor Moon I immediately picture the rainbow of colours represented across the whole Sailor squad, or at least the OG Sailor Team five. But almost everything in the collab is quite warm, and either pink or neutral/natural. Exceedingly neutral/natural, in fact. One look at the names for all the product colours - “Shining Moon”, “Twilight Flash”, “Bun Head”, “Usagi” - make it clear that the products are intended to reflect Sailor Moon and Sailor Moon only.

The packaging itself is... interesting. I can appreciate that they were trying something new with the eyeshadow and blush cases, as they are all topped with different holographic pictures - not (just) the shiny kind of holo, but the old school kind that flips between two different images, all exclusively featuring Usagi and sometimes Luna. You can see the effect in action in this video review by TrendMood. Good concept but slightly awkward execution. I think they would’ve benefited from some kind of static frame around the images so that it didn’t look like I’d just hot glued a pog to my pencil case. The rest of the packaging features the same old redrawn clipart from every other piece of anniversary merch, so, yawn, though the prismatic elements are nice. The body glitter pots are cute, featuring Usagi’s first transformation brooch to mirror the round shape of the pots, but ColourPop’s “gliterally obsessed” branding seems out of place. I know that’s the name of their glitter gel series but maybe it could’ve been swapped out just this once.

(Screencap from above video by TrendMood)

The lip sticks/glosses are by far the most disappointing. Apart from the cardboard boxes they come in, the only branding visible on the tubes themselves is the series logo and a nondescript crescent moon pattern on the caps. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of subtle packaging. I don’t really want Sailor Moon’s face plastered all over a lipstick either; but I’ve also never been a fan of using random moons/hearts/stars as a stand-in for something more relevant to the show when that imagery is so generic and disconnected from the series. Why not little graphics of the Silver Crystal? If they’d thrown some rabbits, bows, and/or roses into the pattern then the combination would read more as “Sailor Moon” than moons on their own. (That said, splitting them into “Moonlight” for the liquid lips and “Daylight” for the lighter glosses with transformed vs. non-transformed? Brilliant. Genius. The perfect blend of nostalgic and practical.)

(Screencap from above video by TrendMood)

Here’s a photo of the palette taken from Temptalia’s website with everything but the shadows desaturated, so you can read the colours more clearly without being influenced by the packaging:

At first I wasn’t sure what this colour story was trying to tell me. I definitely understand going for a more neutral/“everyday” palette over something more glam, since the characters themselves are generally fresh-faced, but the AMOUNT of neutral shades here seem out of place for such a bright series. Tuxedo Rose and Love (the two pinks in the middle of the bottom row) are so similar for such a limited palette. Twilight Flash (top, second from the left) feels out of place; oddly saturated and just a bit too warm to play nicely with many of the other colours. Mare Serenitatis (the coppery-looking one) stood out as unusual but is actually more of a wine/plum under all the glitter, which is much more appropriate and reminds me of Sailor Moon’s transformation.

The more I looked at this palette, and the more I saw of reviewer's looks using it, the more I slowly realised that this palette wasn’t really evoking the character of Usagi herself, but rather the nostalgic, hazy, pink-washed aesthetic of the entire 90s Sailor Moon animation.

The dreamy not-quite-pastel quality of the 90s anime (half conscious design choice, half convention of the time) has received a lot of modern attention and praise. It makes sense that the palette feels like it’s being viewed through a rose-tinted filter when the entire show felt that way, or is at least remembered that way. It wouldn’t surprise me if ColourPop literally based some swatches on recurring colours picked from screenshots.

That being said... Does that make it a good choice for a makeup collab? Is this what Sailor Moon fans want and will buy? Is it versatile enough to warrant a purchase for non-diehard fans? Is it actually what casual fans, who might buy something like this out of pure nostalgia, are actually nostalgic for? Just because I see what ColourPop was going for, does it automatically translate to the most appropriate choice?

Ultimately, my judgement on that comes down to whether this is ColourPop’s only Sailor Moon collab. If this is them testing the waters to see if they can branch out into releasing products focused on the other girls, like a blue/silver mini palette for Sailor Mercury, a green/pink mini palette for Sailor Jupiter, etc. then I’m all for it. When perceived as a palette that represents the show itself, and not any specific character - not even Usagi, despite what all of the swatch names suggest - it really shines. But that’s not really ColourPop’s MO. Most of their pop culture collections are released in one big shining burst of products and then... nothing. And there are quite a few different products here.

I’d also be remiss not to point out that there are lots of indie Sailor Moon-inspired makeup collections already on the market, which makes sense for an almost-30-year-old series that literally repeats the words “make-up!” nearly every episode. Maybe ColourPop felt like they would be stepping on fandom toes or running the risk of copycat accusations if they strayed too close to any of the 2,348 red Sailor Mars-inspired eyeshadows online, though I assume they’d have the legal upper hand. In that respect, I do appreciate that this is a unique approach to a concept that has been nearly driven into the ground.

But ColourPop is not an indie brand and there are some benefits that come with that. They are generally more accessible, sometimes more affordable, can usually ship to more places in less time at a lower cost to the buyer, and can afford much larger runs that will sell out less quickly (though don’t be fooled, this collab will almost certainly start to sell out shortly after its launch). For many fans, especially younger fans, this is probably their only feasible option for Sailor Moon makeup. And some fans prefer the stamp of authenticity from an “official” collaboration, even if indie collections are often, well, better. So I think there’s an impetus for ColourPop to release a less specialised collection that’s reminiscent of more characters.

If this really is the only Sailor Moon collab ColourPop is planning to release, then the packaging, in my opinion, is an odd choice. I don’t know why they decided to focus exclusively on Usagi herself; if the colour story is meant to represent the entire series, then why not either have all the girls on the front in a rosey colour scheme, OR have none of them and focus on one of the cityscapes that clearly inspired the palette? I feel like there are lots of fans who aren’t necessarily fond of Usagi herself who may be put off by the overwhelming focus on her.

Overall: The lip sticks are nice but not super exciting, but I like what I can see of the lipglosses. The subtle glitter is very Sailor Moon. I love the Moonlight/Daylight concept but wish it were reflected on the actual tubes. The body glitters (Moonlight Legend, Moon Prism Power) are exciting and interesting, by far the most experimental part of the collab. The shape and colour choices for the glitters are very “Sailor Moon” and I can see them getting some use on the festival scene. The blushes also seem cute but a tad overpowering for the otherwise understated vibe of the rest of the collab, like the liquid lipsticks, and I love the Luna stamp in the blushes but would be sad to actually use them and see it get worn away. And while I like the gauzy backdrop-inspired looks people are making out of the palette, I feel like it’s extremely limited in the number of unique looks you could actually pull off.

So, in the end... am I going to be buying any of these? Hell, probably, if they’re not totally sold out by the time I get to them. My initial roller coaster of OMG COLOURPOP SAILOR MOON!!!! excitement dropped into “that’s it?” disappointment but has now leveled out at a respectable buzz of interest. I could see myself wearing most of these products, and the collector in me wants at least a piece of the collab for posterity. I just really hope that this isn’t the end of ColourPop’s involvement in Sailor Moon and that we might see some future products tailored specifically to the other girls, so that my collection isn’t just Usagi’s face staring back at me.

#Sailor Moon #ColourPop #Colour Pop #merchandise #long post #edit: just bc I have some questions about this collab I hope this didn't come off as overly negative #I'm still planning on buying a lot of it LOL #and the more I look at it the more excited I get #I think I wrote a lot of this when I was still in the disappointed downspiral from the initial announcement #bc I was thinking about what it 'could' have been based on my own biases #when i look back and see what it actually is I'm still very excited #the more I look at it the more I feel like these are uniquely 'sailor moon'

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howlingmoonrise · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Petshop of Horrors: Wandering Ark volume 3

(crossposted from dreamwidth)

me realizing a whole-ass 25 pages of the last volume of the papa series are just sensei's travel logs:

what did i do to deserve this, honestly? sensei i love you and all but THERE WERE SO MANY OTHER THINGS TO COVER ABOUT PAPA. AND YOU DIDN'T TOUCH THEM. AT ALL.

To start with, there's only two actual chapters in the volume, keeping in line with the previous volumes. A whooping total of 103 pages out of a 128 page manga - except, a good portion of one of them is pretty much just rehashing the events of the last volume of the original manga, so it's not exactly like they're overflowing with juicy new content. Vesca and Victor fans will be pleased at a new glimpse of them both though, with emphasis on Vesca.

Oh, you wanted an explanation for the ark? For why Papa was going around supposedly through "space and time", with a reason other than "well, I wanted to draw stuff from other eras but I don't want to write a whole new manga with a D from back then"? There's none. N-O-N-E. Zilch. Zip. Nada. Niente. Nothing about his relationship with Sofu (though they do briefly meet on Victor's funeral - and wow, am I surprised Sofu deigned to show considering how much he loves humankind), nothing about D or Papa's relationship with him beyond an outsider's point of view on the events of the last manga, nothing about the D species in general or glimpses at previous Ds that were likely alive before our D came into being.

Another bad point: what the hell was up with the cover art?

The top portion of it is fine, but why does the rest of it look like whoever painted it forgot how to shade things? Look at that belt. Look at those sleeves. That's all I have to say on this subject.

On to the chapters themselves!

First chapter:

Papa D helps with The Bachelor. No, really. It's literally a Bachelor-style show, recorded for TV, with one single man and twenty ladies competing to become his wife. Trigger warning for almost-rape in this chapter.

I'll be honest, I liked the main character for this chapter. She's a go-getter, and a survivalist, and prefers stuffing her face with food instead of flirting away the night. Honestly? Mood. I really liked the butler too. I was going on a "oh, is he going to be the actual love interest?" line of thought since he looked interesting, and then went "nah, they're not focusing on him at all beyond that one (1) scene where they were dancing, guess he's just a side character after all", only for him to actually turn out to be the final love interest. That was. Hm. To say that it was majorly underdeveloped is to put it lightly, but the "prince" wasn't great either. The attempted rape felt as if it was shoved in because they were running out of pages though, since the rest of what we saw from his personality seemed a lot mellower than that.

The ?prostitutes? were an unexpected bright spot, even though they only showed up for a couple of panels, but it was nice that they gave her food (however dismissively) and tried to get the other guy to leave her alone, and that they were simply described as "beautiful" instead of anything else.

OH BUT. Papa hitting the would-be rapist over the head with an oar was great, it actually gave a bit more dimension to him since the Ds are usually so unwilling to dirty their own hands when it comes to violent business: at most they would usually let their pets do the work for them.

Which actually brings me to another question.

I've already said before that Papa is at most a side character on his own series, and that he actually barely gets involved at all apart from a few nudges here and there - but it's kind of jarring that he almost never "sells" a pet in this series. On all volumes including this one, there are only two chapters where he gives away a pet that was already with him and that didn't initially belong to someone else that he was just returning: the dogs from the Austria chapter, and the bird from Empress one (who was actually said to be given by Sofu, but I'm calling bullshit since he had long hair and this is supposedly a time-travelling ark). It's definitely a weird choice for a manga whose title is, quite literally, "Petshop of Horrors".

Also, for a FLYING ark there sure seem to be a lot of water-related incidents.

Thoughts on the family thing down on the general thoughts section. Also, WHY IS IT AN OAR AGAIN? WHERE DID THE BUTLER FIND AN OAR, SINCE IT SEEMED LIKE IT WASN'T PAPA LENDING IT TO HIM? I can't say the penguin thing was a huge twist considering previous chapters, but it makes me wonder that so many of Papa's stories are directly about either humans or animals, but rarely the conjunction of both apart from brief exceptions.

Second chapter: Nice callback to the original PSoH on the first page: I'm extremely fond of that description of the Ds, and it's fitting for a final chapter of a PSoH series.

This chapter is a cameo for Victor (from the Sofu series which I haven't read yet but know some things about), and a full appearance for Vesca. Victor seems to have chosen the same path as Leon, though arguably he'd actually have the money for it since he's a baron. Travelling the world following rumours and sightings, in search of someone they considered to be dear to them? Sign all three of these blonds up, because it seems to be a tradition at this point. The Ds really have a type, huh? Truth be told, from what I heard of Victor I didn't think he'd be the adventure-seeking sort, so this was a bit of a surprise. He looks cute and happy piloting planes and running from rhinos so I guess that's all that matters though.

BUT WHY DID HE HAVE TO DIE POOR. He looks like a huge cinnamon roll so I feel super bad for him, I bet they all resented the money he spent trying to chase Sofu D across the globe once the Great Depression hit :/

And then, bam! Sofu cameo. This is the chapter where EVERYONE gets a cameo, copy-paste of the last chapter of OG PSoH or otherwise. He's cryptic as usual, and I REALLY didn't expect him to remember Victor's name, much less show up to his funeral. Not that he even looks like he's grieving; he pretty much only speaks of Hitler and Eva Braun's kirin, to Papa's seemingly frowning disapproval (I haven't complained about the round art style on this volume's commentary yet so consider this to be it: the only reason why Papa even looks put out is because he has a Very Clear Frowny Line, because otherwise he just looks normal... and round).

And then finally, some actual Papa content! Or, er, Vesca content. Both. Let's go with both. I don't want to make myself sad thinking about how little we saw of Papa on his own series. Here we see once again mentions of extinction and of resurrecting species, and finally a throwback to why the ark is an ark: "Noah's Ark". It took me RNS' translations of OG PSoH to understand the reference back on the original, because on Tokyopop's mangled translation the ark is merely a flying boat.

It's nice to see that Vesca has a strong sense of justice similar to my dear boy Leon Orcot, since it was a bit iffy on the original manga. He's righteous (and right!) about the other Professor using Papa's research, and how Papa should have the benefits of it for himself since he was the one doing the studies. Papa, however, cares little about money or glory: even now his focus is on recovering the blind bird species from their trip to Greece (see: Shin PSoH), and here we see once again his hopeful view that one day he may be able to help them see again. Parallel to his own family much? Honestly, I feel for him.

WHAT IS IT WITH PEOPLE SHOOTING PAPA? At this point he's trying to reach for Leon's record - and failing, because Leon gets shot and mauled a frankly unholy amount of times during the original PSoH, so no one else can ever really compare. What really breaks my heart here is that he actually asks why. Sofu and D would both have simply taken it for granted, but Papa (seemingly, up until this point) doesn't automatically assume the worst of every human being he comes across. That pained why kills me a little bit, here, and soon after he grows cold and allows the more murderous side of that contract to go loose.

That page with Vesca going into the FBI really throws me back to the panels on the original PSoH right before/right when Leon decides to chase after D. Part of the background is blank, the other part a faint image of the city and Chinatown, with a sense of detachment associated with them. I could probably take the time to place them side by side and compare fully, but uh. I may or may not be stretching my workday bedtime a little too much to finish writing this, oops.

Also, an echo to the original PSoH with Papa's death, called back with him nearly being shot in the middle of the forehead. The actual event is brought in shortly after Vesca gets to mind-rant about the Ds and his search for a few pages, and then flashback flashforward time! A whole six pages which are just portions of OG PSoH's last chapter redrawn from another angle. It's implied that Vesca was able to board the ark like Leon did due to a similar scene with lying in the clouds and sighting the ship amidst them, though whether he was able to stay or not is a whole new story. This is where the actual story ends.

Sensei's travel logs: I'm not going to bother going into these. It was nice to see some glimpses of my son (forever a Leon stan here!) and a cameo for Taizuu also showed up a little later on if you're one of the people who liked him (personally, I would trade Taizuu in for a cornchip and a ball of lint). I'm going to make the executive choice of pretending that the D/Leon bits are what's actually happening right now after Leon caught up to D. It's lovely to see them on vacations, and Leon has mellowed out a little bit while D seems extremely comfortable and content with his favourite ex-detective's presence =v=

General thoughts: All the series so far seem to have some sort of theme, which kind of ties into the main character of it and their own arc. The original PSoH, for one, was focused a lot on family and greed and love and desire: our D, similarly, had plenty of unresolved issues surrounding his bloodline and things that he wanted but that he couldn't/was not allowed to have because of that very blood.

You'll have to forgive me if my interpretation of Shin is spotty since I only read around half of it (online scans only went up to volume 6 or so, physical versions of the Tokyopop translations were discontinued, and ruthlessnightsscans started scanlating it after I’d already read the available chapters for Shin), but from what I remember of it it seemed to bring in softer, more loving and lighthearted stories, usually tied around romance and being kept apart from things they want/love. The two non-Leon chapters that immediately spring to mind are the Romeo and Juliet Mafia AU, and the one where the lady got pregnant from her dead husband and was able to live on due to that renewed hope. D himself seems to have turned a new page: he hangs around humans on his leisure time (bless those drag queens), takes a vested interest in happy endings for others even if not for himself, and seems overall less inclined towards gruesome murder.

(You'll have to forgive me, but I actually haven't read the Sofu series at all yet so I can't analyse that one. I wasn't even aware RNS had scanlated it until recently, but then again I hold a lot of rage against that slimy bastard (Sofu, not RNS, RNS are baby) and so I'm putting it off indefinitely. Oops?)

And then there's this one. It's probably no coincidence that so many of the stories are about reproduction and birth and continuing a dying species: this is something that chases Papa all the way from his college days not even considering his childhood, which we don't actually don't know about but can make an educated guess at down to his issues with his son and the faint madness of his last years. Even his death plays into this theme, with it ultimately working as an way to keep the D line alive. It makes me think that Papa being kept from his position as a main character in his own series might actually be somewhat purposeful, though the decaying quality of the latest PSoH mangas makes me think this is not the case. I'll have to read the Sofu series to make a better judgement on this, depending on whether or not Sofu is or is not treated similarly.

Another theme: being haunted by the dead. I think this is actually present on almost every chapter of the Wandering Ark series, though we may disagree on the levels on which it was shown and how easily it is or is not divorced by my previous point. A reader that reads this series on its own will likely find Papa a very bland character and will not grasp onto the nuances of these themes and how they are connected to him, IMO. These conclusions and these hypothesis are drawn by virtue of the first manga alone; it's because of it that we're aware of how Papa himself lives for the species who are long gone, his own kind included. Most of the characters on Wandering Ark push through the suffering and the sorrow of their dead to go beyond their limits and become greater and independent, which is another parallel to Papa since he's the only one of the Ds who has an objective beyond simple (and inefficient) vengeance.

Overall, there's little else I can say that I haven't said already, either here or on my previous post for the first two volumes of the Wandering Ark series. There's a real sense of isolation and detachment on Papa's side (though he seems more benevolent than the other two Ds were), but as I said I'm not sure if it's meant to be purposeful or not, though Sensei's choice to not give him an actual companion thorough his series is also telling. The pacing was also better than in the first chapters of this series, though there was that issue with the ending of the first chapter of this volume. I also still can't say this enough, but it's really strange that Papa is such a side character on his own series??

Final thoughts: we were robbed.

At least Sensei hinted that her journey with the Ds might not be over yet, though if we get another Sofu manga I can and I will riot.

#petshop of horrors #pet shop of horrors #papa d #wandering ark #drifting ark #hyouhaku no hakobune hen #petshop of horrors hyouhaku #psoh wandering ark #psoh #howl rambles a lot

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arschbiene · 5 years ago

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Hey Pals. Disclaimer about Me, My art and Hetalia below!

Please note before following that this is a pan fandom blog meaning I post whatever I want when I want to. I tend to keep things SFW. At this point in time, I am posting niche hetalia things based in prehistoric and medieval times.

Here are some relevant tags: #storybooklings #hws prussia #hws germania

Tags to block if you do not want to see violent or disturbing themes with minors: #Knight Terrors

if you are against Hetalia and don’t want to see it for whatever your reasons, that’s something I totally respect and understand. I keep my twitter and instagram free of hetalia.

If you are wondering why you are blocked, 10/10 it’s because tumblr algorithm showed me behavior, thoughts or attitudes I do not find compatible with my needs at the moment.

Update: 08/30/2024

Just want to make it clear that in my personal boundaries that I have as a grown up with a job who just spent two years detached from the internet/fandom is my headcanons are not in any way attached to my political or personal beliefs and I truly think if you try to make assumptions/allegations on people based on their headcanon that you have an extremely toxic relationship with the internet and you need to reevaluate those internet boundaries.

Update 10/28/2020: Revised: 02/28/2024

I just wanted to use this space to talk about myself, my art and the hetalia fandom.

To begin, it’s important to know I’m a creature of habit; it’s really hard for me to leave places where I’m comfortable. This applies to homes, friends, schools, workplaces and fandoms. No matter how bad or unpleasant a situation is, I’ll usually stick around something just because the familiarity is comforting to me until I cannot take it anymore.

This is sorta where I am with hetalia. I have been in this fandom since I was 16. This fandom is the last dredge of my childhood: it’s a place where I grew up and most importantly, the sandbox I used to mature as a writer and as an artist.

However, even at 16, I understood the flaws surrounding the hetalia canon. 2009 hetalia received the same intense scrutiny and criticisms it is receiving in 2020. At 16, I was reading and digesting much the same dialogue as is going on right now.

So....I’ve always understood and respected that this is a controversial series and people are right to find it offensive for any reason they do- because it is offensive - maybe not maliciously or intentionally so, but earlier strips show their biases and ignorance. Himaruya was a college student who probably never intended for this to go international; he was carelessly skimming serious historical tragedies and topics with anime tropes and bad jokes. I’m sure he’s aware of it too, Hetalia has a trove of deleted strips and revised and redrawn comics.

The fandom itself, is well, let’s just say people here have fucked up massively and even after 11 years, there’s still a lot of work to be done and the fandom makes an effort to be vigilant.

With myself though, I just want to use this space to say that I am a firm believer of being able to enjoy something while also being hyper critical of it. I also firmly believe that everyone has a right to enjoy something with any individual amount of commitment. I am a casual hetalia fan, I never really did much but scribble. However, on that note, I also refuse to treat old fandoms like shameful skeletons in my closet, there’s always a chance I may come back to the Hetalia fandom on and off, this fandom raised me since I was 15 years old. It’s a comfort to me. I am not harming anyone or anything by drawing the things I enjoy.

I just want to say other than archiving my ask blogs (simply due to not having the time to comb through the content there), I will not be deleting or denying my hetalia fanwork. I am just moving on as planned because I have exhausted myself here. Why? Because I don’t feel that any of my work is that controversial. I uh....ultimately just drew a lot of cute kids and floating heads (lol), here and there mixed in with a few comics that explore Prussia’s trauma as a human being - rather than a nation. (I like hetalia mostly for character based work - history is secondary to that)

I saw someone say to someone “Not everyone was 15 and playing nazi lovers with Italy and Germany in 2010″ and I think that’s a powerful rebuttal against this blanket demonizing the hetalia fandom is going through. There’s this assumption its fans live in a hetalia bubble and don’t engage in greater media outside of it, but that’s simply not true. When it comes to any fandom that may have issues, personal responsibility of how you engage in it is everything. I’m not gonna say I was perfect, I’ve seen criticism about “making light of the crusades”, however, considering that was about 820 years ago and no one is alive who has been hurt by the crusades, i think I can give myself a pass on that lol but if you disagree, well, I’m sorry you do and you can feel free to block me based on that. What’s done is done.

ANY WAY, I never thought that the hetalia manga would could back or that we would see another season since everything sort of stopped in 2016, and I’m not really...feeling excited about it. 2009 feels like an innocent time compared to what we’re dealing with in 2020, I’m not sure Himaruya will be able to navigate the sensitivities of what we’re facing globally. But I guess we’ll see.

But I encourage everyone as with everything who still loves this fandom bc I still love this fandom, to ignore the hate ofc but just be aware of the criticism. Be informed. As hard as it may be to read, don’t avoid it. You need to know what the problems are to make sure that your own engagement is appropriate.

My parting words are: We can’t take responsibility for what everyone else is doing, we can only be responsible for ourselves.

AND THAT’S ALL. Much love to you guys for staying with me all this time. Thank you.

That being said, please see the original body of this Disclaimer:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I just want to take a brief moment to say that if you’re someone who thinks every single piece of art/fic in this fandom has to beat its chest about a nation’s historical atrocities or else that means the creator is ignorant and thinks it’s “UwU so kawaii” then please do not follow/view my blog. I’ll be blocking indiscriminately and indefinitely those who express those takes especially about Medieval times because

#1 I am a casual hetalia fan, I’ve got one foot in, one foot out. I have been here for over ten years, I’m old af and tired af and I just honestly don’t have that level of investment to give a shit anymore and don’t want to be even a little involved in any hot takes circulating around. If you choose to view my content and then be offended, that responsibility is on you alone. Do it better and do it your way on your blog.

#2 99% of my drawings are stress relief doodles with zero to no thought to them, I work full time in a public service job and my job is a significant drain on my resources because primarily I deal with mentally ill/disabled/dying individuals. I would love to be able to draw fully fleshed out historical pieces that are 100% representative of the research and time I have poured into this god forsaken fandom but alas, I do not have that much time, if I do do even a short comic, it is a miracle and in no way do those little comics fully encompass all my thoughts and understanding about certain time periods/characters.

#3 Hetalia is at the core already Alternate History because human personifications are 100% imaginary and do not exist. It is impossible to fully portray the complexities of history/culture/reality in the confines of a singular fictional individual. Some of us are better at doing it than others and that’s great, I applaud people who are trying their best. However, I personally feel this fandom/canon is an extremely flawed place to start harping on and on about flawless accuracy and looking for any sort of legitimacy in it. If I wanted to write a really droning, accurate story about the brutality of the crusades in full historical accuracy, I’d remove myself entirely from hetalia and write a historical fiction story from the perspective of an actual human being who is suffering during that time period. As it is, I will engage in this fandom at whatever level of commitment to accuracy/historical fact I feel like depending on what I’m doing. Thanks and enjoy your sunday. OH...And read this about germania art while I am at it too lol

#hws prussia #hetalia #My final thoughts on this fandom

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montpahrnah · 5 years ago

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@moonypadfootforever tagged me in this writing meme a while ago! thank you for giving me a chance to think about this stuff. gonna tag @sqvalors @zeiat @alwaysalreadyangry @batmansymbol @direwolf-summer @coyotesuspect @chocochipbiscuit @todisturbtheuniverse @silkcoeur @ebp-brain @bigblackdogfic and anybody else at all who wants to!

ao3 name: montparnasse, i went through an extremely short-lived les mis phase and always intended to change it but never did

fandoms: mostly harry potter and dragon age, which has been the case for a long time, but i used to write for mass effect once in a while

number of fics: 52

fic i spent the most time on: definitely on southerly winds... my writing process is extremely chaotic and i don’t normally go through drafts of things or whatever, but i wrote one much shorter, very different version of it in the summer of 2013 and then kept sporadically re-writing it until it became something else.

fic i spent the least amount of time on: the waking years, which i wrote in just a few hours

longest fic: leave the children behind. it’s wild how you can write 54k of lie low at lupin’s fic and still feel like you have infinitely more in you

shortest fic: redrawn, which i wrote for a kink meme back when those were a thing… the prompt was first times and i went with first kill

most hits: let nothing you dismay

most kudos: also let nothing you dismay

most comment threads: let nothing you dismay! i have definitely (in my opinion) written better stories than that one, but i get why it’s my most popular.

most bookmarks: you know it

total word count: 538,380

favorite fic i wrote: this is hard... it might be on southerly winds. i have a severe fondness for da2 in general; hawke/isabela and isabela as a character are very dear to me, and like i said, i spent a long time with this story--much more than i do with most--so i’ve always been very proud of it. i actually cried when i finished it, and that’s no small thing for me... on the r/s side of things, it’d maybe be like tinder for ghosts, because i also spent a weird amount of time with it for as (comparatively) short as it is, and it also looked very different when i first started writing it, but i really feel like it hits most of what i love about them and why that era is/has been/will always be everything to me.

fic i want to rewrite/expand on: lately i’ve been thinking a lot about amateur cartography and things i wanted to do with it but didn’t have time for, and directions i could’ve taken but didn’t... not sure what will come of that but we will see. i’m also always thinking about expanding on brighten the corners, but part of me thinks it’s fine as it is/i’ve said all that needs to be said. it’d be a good excuse to write more about the midwest though.

share a bit of a wip or story idea you’re working on: from the post-apocalyptic AU, under the cut:

Sometime in mid-March—he’d never remember the exact date afterwards, though he tried—he woke at around five in the morning to the sound of his phone about to vibrate off his nightstand, knowing it’d be work calling him in before he even squinted into the harsh LED display in the pre-dawn dark of his apartment, the name of the nursing home lit up bright and promising a litany of bullshit he wasn’t prepared to process without at least two cups of coffee in him. It was supposed to be his day off; it had been a while since he’d gotten two in a row, what with people quitting left and right and the unusually severe flu season that had lingered into the anxious thaw of early spring. When he answered just before it would’ve gone to voicemail the charge nurse on the other end feigned contrition for long enough that he closed his eyes and for three entire blistering seconds entertained the thought of quitting on the spot until she asked him if he’d like to come in to cover for whatsherface, another nurse’s aide who worked in the dementia unit and had finally succumbed to the flu she’d been futilely trying to fight off with vitamin C tablets for days now.

“Yeah, fine,” he said, voice scraped raw with sleep. There was nothing he’d rather do less but unfortunately he did need the money, and he knew what it was like to take care of sixteen residents by oneself and tried not to abandon his coworkers to such a dismal fate. “Is that everybody now? Like, all the staff’s had it?”

“Just about,” said the charge nurse, “but I’m—I don’t know. Usually hits pretty quick, once you get it, but it took forever to really get to her, didn’t it?”

“You think she’s got something else?”

“I think she shouldn’t have been coming to work,” said the charge nurse, and Remus bit back a remark about understaffing and underpaying and bullshit policies that effectively required healthcare workers to come to work sick. He’d already been written up once in the last six months; best not chance it. “I guess she’s headed to the ER. Sounded like death to tell you the truth, she was having a hard time talking.”

“Maybe pneumonia,” said Remus, “especially if she’s been overdoing it.”

“She didn’t seem bad off yesterday. Just like a mild cold or something.” Here, she paused. Remus would remember this—he would always remember this, that in that moment of crackling digitized quiet from the other end he’d taken a breath and looked out the window, where the scythe moon hung high overhead among the cold peal of early springtime stars. Already there was a robin singing, just out of season, just out of time. He’d never heard one so early before. “They took Murray a few hours ago too. To the ER, I mean. Last I talked to them they were getting ready for an intubation.”

“What the hell. He was fine on Tuesday.”

“He was fine yesterday, just a stuffy nose and a sore throat. Then all of a sudden he’s got a fever so high he’s seeing things and he can’t breathe and he’s coughing up blood.”

“Huh,” said Remus, who reluctantly worked night shifts and thus had limited capacity for complex thought or emotion before about ten in the morning these days. He hung up and laid in bed just kind of languishing spiritually for a few more minutes before he got up and set about making coffee and oatmeal and laying out a clean pair of scrubs. He opened his bedroom window to try and hear the robin as the morning sky with its ten-ton gray clouds began to lighten, but it didn’t sing again.

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kachulein · 5 years ago

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Got tagged by @ultkyu to answer some questions! Thank you dear, I'm so excited for this~🥺💞

1. If you were an animal, what animal would you be and why?

× I'd be a cat, 100%. Cats are my love and my life, I've always wanted to be one, tbh (not in a furry type of way, but I feel like life would be easier if I was a cat, lmao). I love how cats take no shit and do whatever they want. They're very independent and individual and I'm all here for that.

2. What two anime characters or kpop idols are your type?

× Can I do both anime characters and kpop idols??

× As for anime characters, Jaeha from Akatsuki no Yona and Kirito from Sword Art Online are totally my type!!😍

× And in terms of kpop idols... omg,, how am I supposed to *only* name two?? Hmm, thinking about it, I guess not all of my biases are my "type" per se... but there's two that come to mind right now hhhh. One of them is Kevin Moon from The Boyz, he really ticks off (almost) every bullet point in my list for my "ideal type" and honestly, this list is freaking contradictory and has vvv high standards but Kevin is THAT boi, basically my imaginative ideal boyfriend personified. :') And the second one who I'd say is totally my type is Hwang Hyunjin from Stray Kids. I've always loved drawing him the most of all kpop idols and I still do tbh (but I can't fill my feed on my insta art account with JUST Hyunjin drawings,, you know,,,). His fashion!! I'm so here for it and vibe with it so well. Plus,,,idk,,, I feel like I could connect to him in some ways so ajxjsjdjjs yeah. There's just something about him and Kevin that inspires me so much, I really love these two bois.

3. Are there any writers or artists (art or music) that inspire you? If so, list 5.

× YES. I decided to name a few artists because I realize I've never talked about the artists whose artworks inspire me the most. They're all on Instagram, so I'll be naming their @'s

a.) @/shooky_dough: I'm probably not the only one who knows Nikki, hehe, but her art is SO amazing. She's got this really distinct style which I'd put into the category of semirealism. Her kpop fanart is soooo good and I used her tutorials to learn how to get better at sketching. If you look at the sketches I've been posting for the past few months on my insta art account, you'll notice that they're highly inspires by Nikki's art. She's definitely the artist I'm looking at most in terms of inspiration and improving on my own art.^-^

b.) @/angelganev: His art is sooo pretty. He does semirealism and I've found him by browsing through pinterest to find some art inspiration/references/tutorials. He also does drawing contests in which his followers can draw one of his work he selects in their own style and he gives a shout out to the ones he liked best. It's always interesting!!

c.) @/melmadedooks: This man can draw about ANYTHING, he's so talented. He used to draw lots of his 'dooks' and I've found him through seeing some of his works on pinterest (again, lol). I've actually redrawn two of his 'dooks' and posted them to my art account AND HE LIKED BOTH OF THEM, I WAS SO HAPPY OMG!!! He used to draw his dooks using only one coloured pencil, so I've also started experimenting with that and instead of using a graphite pencil, I used coloured pencils for my sketches and those gave off very different vibes that I really liked!!

d.) @/rezajeez: Probably *the* kpop fanartist I've been following for the longest of times. They are AMAZING!! They mainly do huge photorealistic portraits with INSANE details. It's funny actually, because their work is the complete opposite to shooky_dough's work. While Reza draws photorealism on a big surface (probably A3? maybe more??) and draws very detailed, Nikki focuses more on sketches/more semirealistic and "simplistic" art and it's usually drawn quite small, so seeing these opposites really broadens my horizon, I think^^

e.) Last but nor least, @/rossdraws: In my opinion, he's the modern day Bob Ross! His art is so freaking stunning, have you checked out his digital art landscape series?? The amount of talent this man holds in his pinky finger is more than I've got in my whole body like- OOF a huge inspiration to me!!~

4. If you could play any instrument, which would you play?

× The guitar!! I really want to learn how to play it~

5. If you could choose one anime to live in, which one would you choose and why?

× Either Ouran High School Host Club or Your Lie In April. The first one is just so much fun and I'd love hanging out with the host club members and as for the latter,,, I just really want to be here for Kousei and help him through his anxiety because I know so well how it feels like and I also wish I could sing while he plays the piano, we'd be a great duo✊🏻😔 (I'm sorry, I couldn't choose one)

6. This is a bit of an old DeviantArt fic trend, but if you received an Android of your favourite character from any anime/show/etc., who would it be?

× Hmmm... that's a great question omg there's so many amazing choices I could make😭😭 But I think I'd go with Kirito, I just really really love him ahhhhh

7. Is there anything you would like to do but haven't because your friends/family didn't want to do it with you?

× There's actually a few things I could name... first, I really want to go bungee jumping (preferably from the Macau Tower, as it's the highest bungee jump in the world😍) but my fam and friends think I'm crazy for wanting to do this but I'm actually quite an adventurous person which probably not many people know about me, so I love doing stuff like that.✊🏻😂

× I would also really like to travel with friends... it's not that I dislike travelling with my mom and stepdad but whenever I can't take someone with me, I feel like such a child ??? idk,, never travelling (I wanted to say "without adults" but then I realized I AM an adult) on my own with friends and always tagging along with my parents kind of make me feel like I'm not independent or mature/grown-up for it. But I feel like none of my friends want to travel with me... most of them have a travel buddy already but I just... don't akdjsjs

× and last but not least, getting more specific, I really want to travel to Hawaii and South Korea, but so far, I haven't made it there yet :c

8. What's your favourite flower?

× Cherry Blossoms all the way💞 but all flowers are beautiful and I really like roses, too.

9. What are some of your hobbies?

× My hobbies include singing, drawing, dancing, writing, reading, researching astrology, studying Korean, watching youtube videos/netflix, listening to music and OF COURSE DAYDREAMING✊🏻😔

10. If you were going to be stranded on a deserted island with nothing but the clothes on your back and a bag, what would you put in the bag?

× I'd definitely put food and water in the bag, my phone, earphones, a portable solar charger with a USB cable (so that my phone won't die and I could chill for however long I want while watching kpop mv's and then also use my phone to call for someone to rescue me from this island once I start running low on resources), all the books I still want to read, my art supplies and a few sketch books, some towels that I could use to lay on or use as blankets, a pillow and my teddy bear, and obviously a toothbrush and toothpaste, a hairbrush and a few hair ties and bobby pins (you don't want long sweaty hair stuck to your skin during a hot summer ewww), some soap to wash myself and my clothes, sunscreen and also some insect spray to keep the bugs away!! (it's a big bag, okay)

Sorry for writing such an essay omg!!

Here are my 10 questions:

1. What compliment you've received meant the most to you?

2. Would you rather meet your favourite celebrity/group/bias and realize they're not at all how you imagined them to be like (maybe they're not as kind as you thought, for example) or never meeting them in person but it turning out that they're actually the amazing, kind, sweet, generous, etc. person that you thought they were? (I hope that makes sense hhhh I think the ethics of this question are really interesting)

3. What's your current favourite song you always use to get hyped up to or a song currently stuck in your head?

4. If you had to write the book of your life, what genre would it be and what would you choose as a title?

5. Name your top 5 musical artists and your favourite song of each of them?

6. If you were invited to a big humanitarian event and had to give a speech on a topic you'd want to bring about a huge change for the better, what topic would you choose to speak about and voice your opinions/ideas? (Assume public speaking is one of your strongest assets and you'll ace this no matter what)

7. What is something (a skill, personality trait, or something appearance related, it can be whatever) you wish you had and/or you really admire in other people?

8. What's your favourite anime/show/youtuber (you can answer whichever you got an answer for, it can be all three options of course :D)?

9. In kpop, are you more into vocalists, dancers, rappers, maknaes, leaders, or visuals (or maybe a mix of some/all :'))?

10. What's your most beautiful/favourite memory?

oof I hope these questions will be interesting to answer🥺 hmm, Imma tag @littlefallenrebel @jinniesmeow @softpastelmx @yeonki @hanstagrams @marculees @chrryjin and anyone else who'd like to do this~💞💞💞

#tagged #tag #answer questions

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corpse--diem · 5 years ago

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Once More, With Feeling | Morgan, Rebecca, Nell & Erin

Takes place around mid-March.

@mor-beck-more-problems / @exorciseyourspirit / @nelllraiser

Morgan couldn’t remember what she had imagined when she and Nell agreed to gather up a sacrifice for Erin’s ritual. The moose had been decided in advance after a brief consultation with the mortician (So what would you say your dad’s favorite animal was? If he was an animal, would he be the same one?) and Nell had known where all the choice moose grounds were. Maybe she had thought they’d hold out some berries and make some nice transcendent connection like in some new agey painting. Maybe she imagined some kind of magic lasso situation before popping the elixer in. Whatever ideas she’d had, it hadn’t involved getting swatted in the face by its tail or falling into the mud. Still, moss-covered and muddy, they managed to make it from the woods to the mortuary. Morgan waved to Erin from the driveway, smiling as best she could. “Okay!” She said to Nell, still a little out of breath. “We made it! This is good! And thanks again, making sure I didn’t get a black eye. I really don’t wanna bug your mom for another healing so soon.”

It’d been a moment since Nell had caught anything so large as a moose, but she was certainly up for the challenge the creatures posed. Though the creatures weren’t normally aggressive, that generally only stood true for when they were unprovoked. And Nell was fairly certain capturing one counted as...provoking it. She was something of a mirror image to Morgan with mud and grass, but a bright grin was one her lips, some of her adrenaline keeping her on that high as she helped the other witch lead the moose in. “We made it!” she exclaimed, all too thrilled with how things had turned out thus far. “Yeah, and she would have asked too many questions if she’d had to heal you this quickly. But thanks for making sure I didn’t get literally kicked in the butt.” Her smile dropped in the slightest, remembering the danger Morgan had been put in. Nevertheless, she followed Morgan’s lead in waving towards Erin eagerly, a hand pointing towards the moose in question as if she were presenting a prize. “We got the moose! Isn’t he pretty?” He was, indeed, the finest moose specimen they could find. Generally the stronger and more handsome a beast— the better when it came to sacrifices. “So uh- do we have...a way to get this guy where we need him once he’s inside?”

Erin didn’t know where the question about her dad’s favorite animal was going to go. Maybe she naively assumed they were going to channel a moose god or whatever it was these people got up to, but when they hauled a whole damn moose up her driveway? Erin was speechless. Who was she to question them, though? They were here to help her, right? She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from yelling, but threw on a pained, welcoming face. “Beautiful,” she tried to reply with equal gusto, faltering halfway through. Okay, she couldn’t do this anymore. “Before I let you bring this large, live animal into my home,” she gestured towards the elevator door usually meant for caskets and bodies. “Why are we bringing a fucking moose in here?” Rebecca hadn’t prepared her for this. And even if she had tried to, this was all starting to seem like a horrible idea.

Rebecca had arrived early, just as she’d told Erin she would. Morgan and Nell were fetching the sacrifice-- a word that still made her shudder, blood magic was not something she often liked-- as Rebecca set to work getting the basement ready. She could hear the poor severed body scratching away at the door, begging to be let out. All it wanted was to do whatever the wish that brought it to life told it to. But it wasn’t that simple. Even after that, he would still be around. A true curse. Morgan and Rebecca knew about that, didn’t they? Rebecca’s vision blurred a moment and she blinked it away before she continued to etch little canels into the floor. Pathways for the blood to run through and connect, making the circle. Symbols on the inside would need to be redrawn in blood, but she’d chalked them out so that all three of them could work on that part once the ritual began. Sitting back, she examined her work. Nearly done. Just on time it seemed, as she heard voices from upstairs. She went back over to her bag and dug out her notes, getting to work setting out the incense in the places she’d noted on her sheet.

Morgan looked at Erin incredulously. “You want to do this right, yeah?” She said, still bright, patting the moose gently on the back. “Equivalent exchange! We get out what we get in. And we need to get out a lot, so--” She waved her hand, ta-da style. She lead the way towards the garage. It seemed roomy enough, and there was some promising looking machinery that might be moose friendly. Moosey wasn’t going to be around much longer, the less distressed he was the better, she felt, but they also needed to make this happen. They’d take care of Moosey’s remains after, and the sacrifice would be quick. Morgan had looked at diagrams of Moose anatomy so she’d know where to cut and how deep. “Hey, Rebecca--?” She called. Exchanging a look with Nell. Keeping Erin on board hadn’t been part of the plan, but maybe they could keep her reassured together.

Nell nodded along with Morgan’s words, as if this was the obvious answer. “Exactly! And if we don’t have enough to exchange well...it’s never good. And plus— you said your dad reminded you of a moose, right?” Nell finished, as if that was the clearest explanation she’d ever given in her entire life. Nell didn’t mind having Erin present, though. In truth, it might help things along if she wanted to donate a bit of her own blood, and she’d said as much to Rebecca online. With consent, of course. And no more than just a bit. She followed along the moose, bringing up the rear as they toddled along. Meanwhile, bringing up the caboose of the parade behind Nell was what appeared to be an enormous black cat brought up the rear in the form of Taki, tail proudly waving through the air as if he’d been the one to catch the moose. “Is Rebecca...here?”

Erin didn’t have the energy to fight this. She’d proclaimed numerous times she’d do what she needed to in order to get rid of her undead father and if bringing in a fucking moose was what it was going to take? “At this point, we might as well,” she ran two worried hands down the sides of her cheeks, holding back the horror in her chest. Her eyes were on the moose the whole time as she led them to the elevator. Thankfully, they’d managed to capture a smaller one, but big enough that his antlers barely fit through the frame of the door. She stood outside, shutting the door. Glass shattered as the elevator descended. Probably a light fixture. Or five. This was all for a reason. This was fine, she kept telling herself. “She’s downstairs. And probably not at all ready to greet a moose while she sets up.” Erin took to the stairs that led to where the elevator opened up in the basement, motioning for Nell to follow. “You know, you never did tell me how you managed to break in here,” she said offhand, trying to distract herself from the moose that was stepping into her basement. This was fine. This was totally fine. “What, uh--what do you need me to do?” She asked when they finally were all in the basement, moose party-of-one included.

The elevator dinged and Rebecca looked up from her work, going over to the door, but standing aside. She knew what was expected behind the door, as it slid open and a nervous looking Erin came into view. “Oh, good! You were able to find one. Is it calmed, like we discussed?” she asked Morgan, looking over to Nell. She was younger than her online presence made her seem, but Rebecca could already sense the amount of power the girl held. As she ushered them in, she finished setting up the last candle and went to stand on the other side of the circle. “We’ll get this all set up before we grab your--” she stopped herself. Was it insensitive to say father? Probably, “--the corpse--” Oh, that wasn’t much better, “--Do we have anything to restrain him with?”

Morgan held up the empty elixir bottle triumphantly for Rebecca to see. “Moosey is in a great place right now, and I’ve done the research legwork to make this a quick one.” Suffering wasn’t an ingredient in the ritual, so she wasn’t keen on creating any. She pet the creature’s fur, scratching behind its rather impressive neck. The set up was exactly according to what Rebecca had told them to expect, candles and sigils and arrays in a dazzlingly complex riff on the dimensional theory circles she’d come across in her studies. It was beautiful. More importantly: it was powerful. Morgan scanned the rest of the room and settled on a shadowy shape slumped in a chair. “Is that, uh….is that him?” She asked, pointing.

Nell took a closer look at Erin, letting everything slow down for a moment to realize that...this probably wasn’t easy for the woman, especially after who knows how many of her light fixtures had just been shattered. “It’s gonna be good. We know what we’re doing,” she offered as a feeble attempt at assurance. “And um- I can...pay for the light fixtures.” That was technically their fault, wasn’t it? “But a good witch never tells her secrets about breaking in.” Nell bounced back with a tease. “Don’t worry about it, though- it’s nothing anyone without magic wouldn’t be able to do.” Then she was joining Morgan near the moose, reaching into her pocket and procuring a strawberry to offer up to the big guy with a fond smile. “Morgan’s a smartie pants, and I’ve used a moose or two before so it’ll be great.” Then she was taking in the set-up Rebecca had made with a practiced eye, not surprised to find that everything looked as beautiful and in order as it could be. “Truly a work of art, Rebecca. What’s he restrained with, now? If we have to, we could just use a bit of magic for that as well.”

Erin truly thought she was past the whole ‘this is fucking bizarre’ phase of this whole endeavor, but seeing the moose and the elaborate set up with the circle with the markings, surrounded in candles made her realize how entirely untrue that was. Noticed Rebecca’s hiccup in word choice but at this point? “Don’t worry about the lights,” she mumbled towards Nell, before a long, steadying sigh slipped through her lips. This was fine. Everything was fine. They were talking about the moose but it wasn’t clicking until a few seconds after that--”Wait, you’re going to… you know.” She gestured to her neck, dragging her index finger across it. “To the moose?” Jesus this was derailing further and further every second this dragged on. She ran her hands over her face again, her anxiety levels spiking. Just do what the kind witches say and this’ll be over soon. “I got him,” she nodded. Moved across the room to the chair her father was tied up in dragging him out into the light and to the circle. Wasn’t sure if that was right, but she’d seen enough horror movies to have an idea of how she assumed occult-y stuff worked. Doubled back for the kitchen pot, opting to hold that one in her arms for now. “What next?” She asked with more gusto. “I’d really just--love to get this over with, if that’s alright.”

“No need to hush the words,” Rebecca said to Erin, “he can’t understand English.” She turned to look at Nell, giving a nod. “Thank you, Nell.” She watched Erin drag her father out, from wherever she’d had him stashed. His head was missing, and he was tied to a chair. When Erin dragged him to the circle, Rebecca came up beside her and corrected his positioning, putting him at the top of the circle. “Center of the circle is for sacrifices. Top of the circle is the energy point,” was all she said before heading back to the other two. “Morgan, are you doing the sacrifice or is Nell? I have the dagger prepped already, so whoever is doing it, use that,” she instructed, pointing them to where to stand as well. Turned back to Erin. “I’ll need you to stand opposite your father, here,” she said, ushering Erin to her. “You’ll need to hold something of his as well. Something that has value to you.”

“We’re doing it together,” Morgan said readily. She had never killed anything as large as a moose before, and somehow that made it all the more important. She took the dagger from Rebecca and held herself in position, waiting for Nell to do the same. They had gone over this together, where to strike without wasting the blood they needed, and how quickly to slit the throat. Morgan had even practiced her techniques on the fresh produce she brought home. It wasn’t perfect or even close to the feel of the hairy, breathing creature beneath her, but as Morgan drove the knife into Moosey’s heart, she was glad she had something outside of herself to focus on.

Moosey’s legs buckled under him.

Morgan draped an arm around his wide neck and dug her weight into the floor to slow his fall. “Sshh, it’s okay. You’re doing so good, “she whispered. Stroking his pelt, she angled his head just so and peered down at Nell through his antlers one more time for the okay before speaking the blessing of sacrifice Rebecca had given her to memorize and making the second cut.

Dark blood sprayed up Morgan’s hands and rivered down, snaking past Moosey’s matted fur and trailing down, thicker and heavier, into the circle.

Nell waited for Morgan to get into position, stepping into her own with a matching knife in hand as she locked eyes with the other witch, a steady hand still petting the moose. She was only ever briefly sad about her sacrifices, knowing that they were serving a greater purpose. And did their life truly end if it was living on in something else? It was simply the ebb and flow of the universe, an exchange of energies that some might even say was beautiful. The manipulation of blood, and the life held within it should be revered in her mind, not met with disgust. In tandem, she sunk her own knife into the big moose, whispering her own words of comfort and encouragement to him as she did her best to help lower him. “Good boy, that’s it. Just a little sleep. Thank you, Moosey. I’ll remember you.” The blood was flowing quickly now as she felt her magic beginning to spring to life. She took a bit of it for herself, spreading just enough up her arms to leave long, red streaks there. Nell couldn’t really explain it, but she generally chalked the rush of power she got from this act to her affinity for blood magic. Finally, she rose from her place on the floor beginning the next part of the ritual as she spoke the words aloud, confidence in her movements as she reached out to link hands with Morgan and Rebecca.

Erin set the potted head in place beside where Rebecca had nudged the rest of her father’s remains in the circle. She’d thrown a joke in there--or maybe a genuine, playful jab--but it hardly sunk in. This felt like an out of body experience and she could only nod and move at the other women’s directions. Something of his. Right. She had prepared for that much. They weren’t an overly sentimental family, making finding something appropriate harder than she thought it would be. She procured an old, well-worn mug--one that had seen years of use from the stains lining the inside with ‘Embalming Fluid’ written on outside. It was dumb, she knew that. But she’d given it to him the day she told him she wanted to be a mortician. That day he’d laughed harder and smiled brighter, prouder, than any other she could truly remember. For almost a decade, this was the only mug he would drink out of too. “Got it,” Erin held it up shyly as she moved to where Rebecca wanted her, just in time for the knives to sink into the heart of the moose. With amazing care and grace, she noted, but the sight of a wild animal bleeding out onto her floor, with Nell rubbing the blood into her skin, stunned her into pure silence again. Oh god, what was she doing? What had she invited into her home? Maybe she should’ve just Nic blow the goddamn corpse up. “Jesus,” she mumbled. Wild, panicked eyes followed the trail of blood that moved into the circle before jumping between the three women as if waiting for an explanation or further direction.

An old mug was a good choice. Rebecca looked between the three of them as Morgan and Nell prepared the sacrifice, turning her eyes away as they slit its throat and let it bleed. She wasn’t much for all this magic ritual and sacrificing, but she knew this was a part of it. A part of life. And this animal’s soul would be returned to the ether while its blood and body would be used to help, here on Earth. She gave it a silent prayer, waiting for its labored breathing to stop before opening her eyes. Nell had already prepared the blood on her arms and Rebecca watched the liquid pool around the circle she’d made, filling in every crevasse. When it was full, she grasped their hands. “We’re going to channel our power through you, Erin, and your mug. I want you to think about your father-- think everything. Think about the good moments and the bad. The joy, the pain, the sorrow he brought you. I want you to think about what closure you need from him. And when you’re ready, speak it aloud.” She nodded to where Erin needed to stand, in the middle of the circle, facing her father. “Don’t be afraid, you can’t be hurt inside of there, I made sure.” She glanced at Nell and Morgan, then, before nodding, signaling them to begin chanting with her. She hoped the Hebrew wasn’t too difficult to memorize, but considering she was the link of the circle, she needed it to be in her power language.

Morgan marked the back of her hands with Moosey’s blood as it poured from his neck. She held onto him with all her might to control his collapse to the floor. She bent over his lifeless body and scooped the dark, stringy flesh from his neck and marked herself with two sigils, one connecting her with the others, and one protecting her from the pull of what they were about to do. She opened herself up and filled herself with the words Rebecca had given them to memorize. Her voice was strong and her mind was clear. There was no curse, no worry, only the balance and the bargain, power flowing in and out of her. And suddenly, in the space they had made together, a bright hole cut its way into the world.

A small, peaceful smile began to form on Nell’s lips as she felt their power mount, the three woman’s magic weaving together as if it had been yearning all this time to be joined as one. She had never minded working alone, but spellcasting with two others like this- it almost had a sense of nostalgia for her, having grown up with two sisters who’s magic she shared as they’d practiced all together in their younger years. The words fell from her mouth in tandem with Morgan and Rebecca, and she didn’t pause as the hole opened from one world into the next, though curiosity made her stare. It wasn’t like the glimpses of the demon realm she’d had before, though it certainly wasn’t anything similar to their world either. As she looked into it- she could feel the pull of the new world working against their magic, trying to lure her into its depths with something of a siren call, as if all their wishes would come true if she only stepped forward. But the temptation wasn’t a match for their joined power, and instead she simply gazed onwards into the world, trying to glean whatever she could from the swirling images she saw within. Nothing stayed concrete for more than the blink of an eye, shifting at a moment’s notice as wishes so often did, taking forms you wouldn’t expect, it being impossible to predict what might come next. But there were more important things to do here. “Bring it home, Erin. Let yourself have it.”

Speak it outloud? Fuckity-fuck-fuck. Erin faltered at that more than she had when Morgan stabbed a goddamn moose in her basement. Shaky hands struggled to keep the mug in her grip while the women circled her and chanted, the bright light that suddenly ripped into the dark room. So close she could swear she felt some sort of electrical pull, like a crackle, that followed the gusts of wind blowing her hair back. What sort of magic fuckery had she gotten herself into? For a long moment she only stared into the hole, lost in the slideshow of colors and images that were gone as quick as they came. Nell’s voice brought her back with a jarring halt. Right. Her father. Feelings. She’d done her homework, had a lengthy talk with herself about it, but she was having trouble remembering anything at the moment.

Squeezing the mug, she closed her eyes and focused. Flashes of memories jumping around in her own mind. The bad--the day she left over a year ago after she’d realized he’d had something to do with his mother’s death. The day she got the call about his death. The lackluster note that explained what she now had inherited. Her jaw clenched tightly. There was good there too, she had to remember that. Like the memory that came with this stupid mug. All of the warm comforts of home and family meals. Crying in his arms when the kids at school would tease her for being weird. He had been who had taught her the best way to handle it was to embrace it, after all. But for every good memory, the bad trickled in over top of it, reminding her how they got here in the first place. Fuck, she should say something.

She opened her eyes to the stark contrast of decaying flesh against the brightness behind him. Fear crawled along her nerve endings like a thousand little spiders and her heart pounded loud in her ears above their voices. “I don’t hate you,” she started, her voice already wavering as she tried to find the words. “I should, and I have every reason to, but I don’t. But I have what you’ve done and--I hate how you left things. But I’m going to fix it. And I’m going to be just fine without you,” she nodded, straightening herself.

There. She’d done it. But why wasn’t anything happening?

The looks the witches gave her didn’t seem all too impressed or convinced. She held her hands up. “Okay, okay!” She got the hint. Took another deep breath, running a hand over her eyes in frustration. Dig deeper? Is that what they wanted? “Alright--fine!” She rolled her shoulders, shaking her head, giving in completely now. “I do fucking hate you sometimes. I hate that you destroyed our family. That you bowed out without saying goodbye. That you left me this--fucking shit show to deal with and that because of you, I have no chance of having a normal goddamn life. And you can be damn sure I won’t forgive you for getting her killed.” Her eyes burned and her cheeks felt wet, suddenly aware that was the first time she’d said that thought out loud. “But I’ll fix this because you couldn’t. And if I can’t fix it, you can be damn sure I’ll be better at it than you. I don’t need you and I need to move on if I ever have a chance at that.” Erin paused, clearing her throat, nodding at the headless corpse wriggling in the chair before her. She wasn’t afraid of it anymore. “So you need to go,” she said with certainty, wiping at the tears under her eyes. “Now.”

That electricity from the hole heightened suddenly with a blazing swirl, suddenly tangible and powerful. Enveloping her father, chair, pot and all with a force that sent him flying backwards. And in a flash, he was gone. Finally, forever, gone.

Magic wasn’t Rebecca’s forte by any means, but there was a certain je ne sais quoi to it that always pulled her back. It was a higher connection to the world and the universe at large. It was a feeling she always got during exorcisms, and it was a feeling she’d been chasing her entire life. A sort of calm always washed over her when it happened, and she had to fight to keep her eyes from closing, watching Erin, watching the others, watching the portal, opening and closing, visions of another world, a hole in the universe, peering back at them. Erin’s words held power, Rebecca could feel them. Her emotions writhed around through the magic, absorbing the blood they had spilled, and centering on the undead body tied to the chair. It was almost a tragedy.

It all happened so quickly. In a flash, the body was gone. The portal sucked into itself, and closed. The effects were immediately, and Rebecca felt the weariness creeping in, faltering only slightly in her step as she let go of the other two’s hands. “It’s done,” she said quietly, rubbing her head, “you’re free.”

Free. Erin heard the word, saw the empty space where her father had just sat. Felt the exhaustion set in, felt bare and ripped wide open, but free hadn’t washed over her just yet. Her eyes remained on the space where the light had been for more than a few moments, her fingers anxiously digging into her palms. As if at any moment it’d reappear and shoot him right back out. That’d be her luck, wouldn’t it? But that moment never came and she was eager to get away from the three sets of eyes around her. “Thank you,” she finally mustered, clearing her throat and wiping her eyes before she turned to face them again. She owed them more than she could properly communicate right now, hoping the sincerity in her voice would speak for her. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. It’s a start, anyway,” she mustered a half smile. Let a long breath go as her mind only just began to wrap around what had just happened. Then she stopped, her entire body sagging as her eyes fell to the blood streaming along the floor, leading to the small deceased moose still very much dead in the middle of the room. “...You guys are gonna take him with you, right?”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #chatzy: morgan #chatzy: becca #chatzy: nell #once more with feeling #aka the yeeting of the living dad

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