#the amount of times i was like. wait. ive seen this clip around

[slutforwings]

i love remembering that watching movies is fun like every couple of months

[polyhexian]

 they didnt close the fucking pit after chesnik broke her spine....... it was open the rest of the convention??? absolutely shocking. one person dislocated her knee, one broke their ankle and a woman broke her spine and they didnt close the pit. video i just watched showed clips of presenters encouraging people to “dive into” the pit. in absolute shock

the crowding and line issues were so much worse than i even realized.... the dsmp youtubers have over a combined 100 million subscribers and twitch put their panel in a small room that could only hold 400 people? THOUSANDS of people showed up for this panel. and then the table wasnt even big enough and dream, who has 31 million subscribers, one of the biggest content creators in the world, sat awkwardly off to the side of the table. what kind of horrible planning is that. what were they thinking.

they didnt even have a green room for them like the dsmp people had to fight through crowds to use the same bathrooms as the rest of the convention??? people straight up waited in the bathrooms to jump them for photos im....

and theyre not joking when they say people shoved wheelchair users out of the way, people there at the time called it a “stampede” and that they “nearly trampled” the ppl in the accesibility line, and then theres video of people standing shoulder to shoulder, being shoved left and right as people continue to surge forward. do you know what those conditions are??? those are crowd crush conditions. The travis scott concert less than a year ago where three people died? thats why. it was crowd crush. crowd crush has killed an unbelievable amount of people over the years at various events. looking at videos close to the door it is like. its absolutely staggering how tight it was. it is incredibly fortunate that no one died. people did apparently straight up pass out. legitimately these are conditions where it was not just possible to end in death but very likely to end in death. its VERY lucky no one died in that.

and jesus christ alinity’s stalker showed up and twitch let him in. are you joking. alinity is one of twitch’s biggest streamers. everyone knows about her stalker. it made the news. some dude from europe who used to be a discord mod for her got so obsessed he sold everything he owned and moved to the us to follow her around. he straight up set up across the street from where she lived and started a 24/7 livestream of her apartment building. he threatened to kill her. alinity literally hired her own 24h security team she was so frightened. how could twitch not have had, like, dont let that freak in this convention like #1 on their priority list. the dude could have easily been there to kill her. dude could have been there to blow up the fuckin building. twitch is the platform with the highest follower value but also the MOST problems with stalkers and obsessed fans. theres been so many incidents. how could this not have been a priority.

i dont think ive ever seen a convention with this scale of sheer incompetence and criminal irresponsibility. fyre fest is close but thats technically not a convention. tentmoot? tentmoot didnt actually happen in the end. this event could very very easily have ended in tragedy on multiple fronts, the extremely dangerous pit, the numerous ada violations, the crowd crush, the lack of security, it absolutely staggers belief. how could anyone lack THIS MUCH foresight. this isnt even the first twitchcon!

[wedreamedlove]

[FIC] Dandelion

Rating: G Characters: Li Zeyan/Reader Word Count: 1589

Prompt: Hi! I really like your writing 🥺! Thank you for your hard work❤️❤️! If you don't mind can I request a headcanon about Victor when MC is hospitalized because she is fainted due to her overwork, and when she gain her consciousness she try to leave the hospital because she is worried about the important filming at her office, but Victor chase her and make her back to hospital's bed? I will really happy if you grant my request 🥰🥰

A/N: Thank you for your kind words! I ended up writing this in my usual 2nd person perspective but the experiences are of the MC in the game. If that bothers anyone, oops, you can re-imagine this to be written in 3rd person perspective.

Something like fuzz encroaches at the edges of your vision and your head feels like it's filled with cotton. None of these are good signs and, to be honest, you know you're at your limit after working 60 hours for the past three days.

You're able to get away with this—as well as the enormous pile of energy drinks on your desk—only because Anna is away on a business trip for another project, meaning no one else in the company dares to make you take a break. Oh, there are people who make gentle suggestions to rest but none of them can budge your determination to perfect this important contract you had accepted. Last minute changes had been added to the outline and so, to ensure everything is still on schedule, you have to pull this insane work schedule.

But you can see the light at the end of the tunnel. You just have to finish looking through the last 20 pages of this document in front of you.

You rub your forehead to stave off the building tension in your head and reach out with your other hand for a drink. However, your hand only bumps into empty cans around you and you grimace as you realize you have to make another run to the nearby convenience store to buy more drinks.

When you stand up to do just that, extreme vertigo assaults you and your last thought before your vision goes black is 'Oh... this isn't good.'

#

You wake up to an extremely white ceiling.

It's pure white.

It's so white that, for a second, you morbidly wonder if you really overdid it this time. But then the rest of your senses make themselves known and you smell the antiseptic scent of a hospital, you feel the crisp sheets below your hands, and you think you hear someone breathing.

You turn your head to the side and your gaze collides into eyes the color of steel. It's Li Zeyan, and with an incredible scowl no less.

"You're awake."

You struggle to sit up and swing your legs to the side of the bed, but he places a large hand on your thigh immediately, obstructing your movement and pressing you down.

"What do you think you're doing?" Li Zeyan's voice is clipped. Uh oh, someone isn't happy.

"I have to get back to the company."

He gives you an incredulous look. "Do you realize what state you're in?"

His words make you notice you're in a hospital gown and there is an IV drip attached to you. You wince slightly at the sight of the needle in the back of your hand but another thought soon takes over your mind.

"Wait, how long have I been here? Did I miss the deadline?" Your voice rises in desperation and there's a suffocating weight on your chest when you think about how all your earlier work might amount to nothing.

"Idiot, how are you still thinking about work? You truly don't understand your condition. You hadn't had any proper sleep or food and the amount of energy drinks you were drinking was dangerous. Even though you're still young, if you continue like that you could do irreparable damage to your body. You—" He cuts himself off and his eyes widen. "Are you... crying?"

You reflexively reach up to touch your cheek and your fingertips come back wet. You blink and Li Zeyan's figure goes blurry as more tears well up in your eyes.

"Sorry, it's just a physical reaction. Don't mind me. You can keep lecturing. I'm listening," you choke out through a tight throat. Frustration, embarrassment, and mortification strangles you.

You roughly wipe at the tears, wanting them to stop right now before you see the exasperation in Li Zeyan's eyes. Intellectually, you know he's right and you don't want it to look like you're crying to get him to go easy on you. There have been many times where you feel childish and inadequate compared to him and so you don't need to come off even more as a baby throwing a tantrum.

But the tears just won't stop. Your shoulders shake with the effort you use to suppress your sobs.

A hand holding a tissue box appears in your lap.

"Cry it out."

You shake your head like a rattle drum.

"... What haven't I seen?" Li Zeyan's voice is low and even, and it's when he places a hand on your head that your last resistance crumbles.

You hunch over, automatically trying to stifle your gasps, but you end up crying your eyes out anyway.

You cry, and cry, and cry. You cry about the pressure of the deadline. You cry about the fear of not being able to make it. You cry about the anxiety and worry over whether you're doing enough or whether you're good enough. You cry at how hard it is to be be a successful adult.

The entire time you can feel the soft pressure of Li Zeyan stroking your hair.

Eventually, you calm down enough to start pulling wads of tissue out of the box to wipe your eyes and blow your nose as the last of your tears trickle to a stop. All your emotions feel raw and sensitive, but you have to admit you feel a lot better.

Li Zeyan takes your dirty tissues before you can say anything and tosses them into the wastebasket below the bed. Then he levels an unreadable gaze on you and, just as you're about to squirm and open your mouth, he speaks first.

"Why are you working so hard?"

"Huh?"

"No one pushes themselves like this unless there's something very important they're trying to achieve. So, what is it for you?"

"... You're going to think I'm dumb."

He stares at you flatly and you can see that he's clearly thinking it's a bit too late for that.

You look down at the hospital sheets and pick at a loose thread. "I want to catch up to you."

"Idiot." He actually scoffs out loud but continues before you can decide how to react to that, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know why I created Huarui?"

You blink, caught off guard. You know it isn't a family business and that he started the company when he was in his final years of university. But did he ever say why he created it? Because he could? Li Zeyan standing at the top of the world seems as natural as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, so you never questioned it.

He sees your confusion and explains, "I was looking for the girl who saved me when I was a child. I searched for her for 11 years."

Your childhood memories are still vague but you do remember the more recent memory of the film set where you and Li Zeyan had been tricked and how you jumped in front of Li Zeyan to shield him. You can almost feel the ache and burn of the lightning strike again if you think hard enough.

Li Zeyan continues to look at you, his eyes calm without any ripples. "I built Huarui and made it rise to the top because I thought that, if I stood in the highest place I could think of, then she would have an easier time finding me. Of course, the position itself also allowed me to increase the extent of my search for her."

"In the end, I did find you."

A wry smile flashes across his face, so quick you doubt your eyes. "Yes, you found me first, and so my choice wasn't the wrong one."

You know he's trying to tell you something but, try as you might, you can't figure out how the current conversation connects back to the previous one. As the silence grows, you see exasperation appear in Li Zeyan's eyes before he sighs lightly.

"Now, after all these years and efforts, do you think I would walk away? You only need to reach out and I'm right here, waiting for you."

His words crash into you, bringing with them a sudden epiphany and new perspective. You reach out without a thought, as if to touch him and make sure he really is there, but then you realize how silly that looks. Before your hand can drop though, he covers the remaining distance and grabs your hand, wrapping your entire hand within his and entwining your fingers together. The familiar warmth and steady strength makes your eyes sting again and you drop your gaze to your interlinked hands, not wanting him to see you cry again.

You finally realize you've been mistaken all this time. You were being crushed by your own expectations and desires to stand beside him. In your head, you imagined him to be walking ahead of you, his back growing smaller and smaller. But that isn't true at all. Yes, he stands in front of you, but he isn't moving. Instead, his body is turned to yours and he's holding a hand out towards you, waiting for you to take a step. If you fall, he will catch you. If you take a firm step and grasp his hand, he will take another step forward and wait for you there.

"I'm not going anywhere." The words were low and solemn.

"Mm."

Against all odds, you both found each other again and so there is no way either of you will leave the other.

[thegreaterlink]

Reviewing Star Trek TNG - S2E22 “Shades of Gray”

I know I said I'd have to stop doing daily reviews for a while, but this episode really isn't worth the wait, so I'll make an exception for it. After this (and the season 2 overview coming tomorrow) it's back to business as usual, with new reviews coming every two or three days.

Also, at the end of my previous review, I said this:

How blissfully naïve I was.

THE PREMISE

While conducting a geological survey of Surata IV, Riker is attacked by a thorn growing on a sentient vine. He's quickly beamed back to the Enterprise, where Dr Pulaski discovers that the thorn has released a deadly virus into Riker's body which will reach his brain and kill him in a matter of hours. In an attempt to save his life, Dr Pulaski hooks him up to a machine which will artificially stimulate his brain neurons to keep him alive and hold the virus at bay.

MY REVIEW

I've summed up 90% of the plot in a single paragraph. That's either impressive or a bad sign.

This is a prime example of what's known as a "bottle episode." A bottle episode is an episode written specifically with cost-cutting in mind, and can usually be recognised by a minimum of new sets, special effects or guest actors.

And this episode fits that description entirely:

The only new set is a generic jungle which could've been reused from an episode like "The Arsenal of Freedom" for all I know.

Special effects are minimal aside from a single phaser shot (during which Data seems determined to jostle the target around as much as possible), a smear of ketchup on Jonathan Frakes' leg and the gizmo that Dr Pulaski uses on him, as seen above.

The only guest actor (if you can call him that) is Colm Meaney playing Transporter Chief O'Brien.

Star Trek has something of a reputation for bottle episodes, but those episodes are usually of a much better quality than what I just watched, since it would otherwise force the writers to focus on the characters involved, like “Duet” from DS9.

This episode must have been comfortable for Jonathan Frakes to film, since he spends most of his screentime lying down. Riker is the best part of the episode by far, being his usual charming self even as his condition worsens until he goes into a coma.

Then the rest of the plot (if you can call it that) is just Troi and Dr Pulaski in sickbay reacting to changes in Riker's condition (it must have been exhausting for Marina Sirtis to be perpetually on the verge of tears) and trying to help him by triggering memories of his to generate certain emotions to fight the virus.

And of course it all works out in the end, with Riker making a miraculous recovery. Hallelujah.

In other words, it’s a clip show.

This series has had some real stinkers so far, but at least all of those episodes were forty or so minutes of completely original programming.

I actually went through this "episode" again, and according to my calculations, if we remove any reused clips and the opening and closing credits, that leaves us with roughly 18 minutes and 25 seconds of original footage, constituting about 40% of its 45-minute runtime. Almost two-thirds of this "episode" is stock footage!

And because we're only at the end of the second season, there's a piss-poor amount of Riker-focused footage to use, with some clips even being used multiple times, sometimes including events where Riker wasn't even present!

Fortunately I was able to fast-forward through all of the stock footage - which is why I was able to get through the whole thing in one sitting - but I can't imagine how frustrating it would've been to watch this episode when it first premiered and be bombarded by footage I'd already seen. To any of you who were among that audience, you have my condolences.

This episode's massively truncated budget was the result of overspending on "Elementary Dear Data" and "Q Who," and Paramount refused to increase the season's budget to compensate, so head writer Maurice Hurley (who completely disowned the final product, and I can see why) threw together an envelope script which was rewritten by Richard Manning and Hans Beimler.

If they needed to do a bottle episode, then fine! Have two characters trapped in a damaged shuttlecraft and bare their souls to each other as they wait for rescue, or something!

Yes, this review has basically just been me complaining, without much reference to the episode's plot. And that, dear reader, is because there is nothing else of substance to reference. I've covered all that the "plot" has to offer in the plot summary and those two short paragraphs before the last image. Everything else is stuff we've already seen before, supposedly depending on the emotions Troi and Pulaski are trying to generate, from Riker's happy (and borderline erotic) memories like his romantic encounters to his more negative memories like Tasha Yar's death.

My research shows that Denise Crosby asked to be released from her contract due to unhappiness with her character’s development, or rather the lack thereof. And I don’t blame her in the slightest. But Crosby has said that if she had just had some more scenes like her interaction with Worf here to endear her to the audience and develop her as a character, then she wouldn’t have left.

Oh, I'm sorry, did my blatant reuse of a segment from another review stick out like a sore thumb? Sorry, times are tough. I exceeded my word limit for the “Samaritan Snare” review, so I can't afford to write as much original material for this one. Budget cuts. Consider donating to my Patreon if you want to help out.

I know this is my most text-heavy review in a while, but there’s just so little original footage for me to use that isn’t Troi and Pulaski in the sickbay.

You also may have noticed that I haven't used a single swear word in this entire review. That is because I want you to know how serious I am when I say that a so-called episode like this is just insulting, plain and simple. If an episode doesn't even give us a full-length story, then it simply isn't worth my time.

0/10 - I refuse to give any sort of credit to an "episode" which can't even be bothered to try. You will miss NOTHING by skipping this.

I would consider this the worst episode of Star Trek I've ever seen, but considering less than half of it is original footage, I've decided that it simply doesn't count as one. I think they would’ve been better off just having “Peak Performance” as the season finale. It’s miles ahead of this trite and this season is already three episodes shorter than the last one anyway.

We have barely scratched the surface of Star Trek media, and I know there’s some real hot shit waiting for me when I get to it. But as long as those crappy episodes give us a complete story that spans the full length of the episode’s runtime, they will automatically be superior to this, the lowest point of this entire franchise.

Okay, pretty sure I’ve gotten all of the bile out of my system.

Once again, the season finale is a disappointment, even more so than last time. But at least it can only get better from here... please God.

(Also, PLEASE DO NOT DONATE TO MY PATREON. I CREATED IT PURELY FOR A JOKE IN THIS REVIEW AND HAVE NO PLANS TO POST ANYTHING ON IT. DO NOT GIVE ME MONEY WHICH I DO NOT DESERVE. HELL, AT THE TIME I'M WRITING THIS I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF IT'S GOING TO BE APPROVED.)

Previous Episode | TNG Masterpost | Season 2 Overview | Next Episode

[katachell]

portal 2 project???

portal 2 has an AMAZING narrative. AMAZING. but if you want to rewatch the story... you cant. your two options are to watch let’s plays and randomly skip around to hopefully hear all the dialogue, or to read the quotes on the wiki... which are seperated by character, not scene, and dont give environmental details. this makes it impossible for people who dont want to put in a massive amount of time in to experience the story of the game in one definitive place. so, i propose:

THE PORTAL 2 PROJECT

the end product of this project would be a video, posted to YouTube, that has all of the relevant scenes and dialogue in order. it would play out like a movie, so people who haven't or don't want to play the game can still enjoy and understand the story in its entirety. it would use screen recordings of the game, so you can see whats happening and hear it.

what would be included in the video:

-any moment where there is dialogue (exceptions listed below)

-plot relevant details: for some examples, getting the portal gun, finding a rattman den, introducing a new puzzle element, when cave says that portals can be placed on the moon. (this is to better help people who aren't familiar with the franchise understand what the things they're seeing on the screen are.) (most of these would be short clips: for example, when hard light bridges are introduced, the clip would show chell walking up to it and standing on it, and then the video would move on.)

-major scenes, obviously. an example is when chell falls into the pit or unlocks old aperture.

-small, funny details. (without lingering for too long.) it wouldn’t be portal 2 if you dont show the little details! examples include the borealis dock, the elevator room screens, or when wheatly is monologuing and you can go back and he’ll keep monologuing (”you’re at my mercy! wait- come back! (chell goes back) FOOL! you’re at my mercy, and i dont have any!”

-exploring the enviroment: for example, the screen recorder would stop to look at the awards in old aperture, zoom in on chell’s name for the potato experiment, listen to the optional/hidden cave experiment dialogue, as well as look at old posters and signs that tell you about the dangers of old ap. just so the audience is grounded.

-ive touched on this in other bullet points, but not everyone has the time or willpower to look for the little hidden things in the game. this would make sure that you get a very full, portal 2 experience.

what would NOT be included:

-puzzle solving. some chambers take a few minutes to solve, and there is no dialogue. this interrupts the story. unless the puzzle solving is relevant to the plot, like quickly introducing new mechanics to the audience, it wont be included.

-unimportant dialogue. for example, in the neurotoxin generator area, whealtly will ramble for - i think i lasted 4 or 5 minutes before i left - a while, just trying to convince the neurotoxin generator to shut itself off or something. while entertaining, it takes away from the focus of the project.

an example of the formatting:

i imagine the format to look something like this: (im using chapter 1 as an example)

-full, uncut opening with the wheately escape. the cameraman waits at the door before opening it so you get his full dialogue. ~5 minutes

-chell goes into her old relaxation vault, listens to the announcer, puts a button on the pressure pad, then enters the elevator. this introduces the button/cube mechanic. (this scene comes directly after the last, with no cuts). since there is announcer dialogue and new mechanics, this stays relatively uncut. ~1 minute

-chell exits elevator, hears funny announcer dialogue. the camera looks at the room for 5 seconds so the audience understands the setting for the scene, as well as the act. ~15-20 seconds

-chell presses a button to open a portal. this is the first time a portal is seen. she walks through the portal. this introduces the core mechanic of the game. (~30 seconds) (once the mechanic has been used once or twice, the rest of the puzzle is cut)

that would be the basic format. for things like multiple uneventful test chambers in a row, it would show slow fading shots of the test chamber number so you understand that time is passing. this would be intercut with shots of the setting.

HOW CAN I GET HELP / THIS PROJECT STARTED??

getting all of this footage is too much for one person. editing it... is too much for one person. ALL OF THE FOOTAGE HAS TO COME FROM PEOPLE WORKING ON THIS PROJECT. IT CANT COME FROM OTHER PEOPLES YOUTUBE VIDEOS. For this project, I’ll need people to record the footage, people to help edit the footage, and 1-3 people who know the story well and are willing to go over the game’s plot and determine what scenes and details we need, so the records know what to record and what to focus on. 

Do you want to help capture footage? if so, youll need:

-access to the PC version of the game with LOW LAG gameplay

-a screen recorder program. it CANNOT have a watermark on the finished product. needs to be high resolution footage.

-(the recordings will NOT feature your voice or a face cam.)

-(you do not need mods and please leave the portal gun with its base texture)

-(id be comfortable with each screen recorder person to cover around 1-2 chapters... so maybe 4-5 people, unless i can find more. youd be following some directions on what to record. you do not need to edit, just get the footage.)

Can’t do that? Can you EDIT video footage? you’ll need:

-a video editor. high quality. i dont know the editing industry, i dont know what software exists.

-MUST be able to export it without a watermark and in high quality.

-(each editor will be responsible for a chapter or chapters. then render your final product. one editor will put all of the finished chapters together. this means you can use different software from the other editors, and will have a good amount of control over your assigned part. i dont have a number for how many editors there will be. id like more than one.)

Can’t do that? What about choosing the important scenes and details and acting as a sort of ‘writer’ for the plot? You’ll need:

-a good knowlege of the game and its history and fun facts. if youre obsessed with this game and franchise... yeah same. but as long as youre interested and know it well, thats fine

-be able to browse the wiki

-time to review the game by watching lets plays or playing it yourself

-be able to choose the right details and communicate that to the screen recorders and editors. remember my example about chapter one earlier? youd have to lay it out in a similarly comprehensive way.

-take constructive criticism

-must be older than 14 for this. youve gotta make a lot of decisions in this role. ive seen some really creative and talented high schoolers, so thats where im drawing the age line.

-(im hoping for 1-4 of these people, including myself.)

IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN HELPING, SEND ME A DM. IF YOU’RE CHOSEN TO WORK ON THE PROJECT, I’LL SET UP A DISCORD FOR THOSE INVOLVED. IF THIS GETS SOME SORT OF MASS SUPPORT, I’LL SET UP A DISCORD FOR ANYONE INTERESTED IN UPDATES.

The purpose of this project is to make it so you can relive the portal 2 plot without having to replay the full game. Other methods do not exist. No one video shows the plot in order with ‘filler’ removed. Voice lines exist in text form, but do not capture the visual aspect of the game, or give context, and are not a full experience. This story is a masterpiece and deserves to be edited so it is comprehensive and all in one place. No one will claim credit for owning portal 2 or writing the story - the video is showing gameplay, and just so happens to be the relevant gameplay. However, screen capture, editing, and direction credits will be given to everyone who participates. This project will allow you to introduce friends and family to the game without sending them a video where only 5 minutes out of the 1 hour video is relevant. I have wanted this project for a while, but I’ve realized that I can’t do it alone. Even if you can’t help directly, please spread the word and reblog.

[defiblover27]

Katy has been in the boxing ring since she could walk.  Her father was a champion boxer and wanted to give his daughter something to work for.  With all of the training that she has gone through she was very fit and viewed as one of the upcoming greats.  She practically lived in the gym and she prepared day in and day out for her upcoming match that would lead her into the professional lead.  She was only 22 and five foot five with a completely toned body and long blonde hair that she kept in a pony tail and some braids.  She knew how to take the hits and had suffered a couple concussions through out her days.  The lights were on and the first two rounds went in her favor as she was dominating her opponent.  She had a few lacerations to her face but it never fazed her.  The bell dings as the two boxers begin throwing punches.  One punch landed directly above her left eye splitting her eyebrow.  After a couple seconds the blood mover onto her eyelid and she tried to wipe it off.  Her opponent used a large right hook striking her in the side of the head as she stumbled before falling to the ground.  It was a total knockout as she laid still on the mat before one of her trainers rushed to her side.  Her opponent had her gloves in the air celebrating before turning around and seeing that Katy still hadn't awaken.  Extra trainers and medical staff surrounded Katy as they rolled her onto her back.  Her face was battered and they couldn't wake her.  They used some smelling salts to no avail.  A 911 call was made as crews rushed to the scene. 

Upon arrival Sara and Dave were greeted by her lead trainer who informed them on the situation.  They knelt beside her and placed a c-collar in case of a neck injury.  Sara set up the heart monitor as she attached the electrodes around her sports bra.  The monitor whined to life as it showed a low heart rate and shallow respirations.  They placed a pulse ox on her finger and found that she had a low oxygen level so a nasal canula was given.  They rolled her onto a back board and rolled her into the ambulance.  Once on the way to the hospital Sara opened Katy’s eyes to check her pupils in case of a brain injury.  Katy’s left pupil was blown with a sign of a brain injury.  “Step on it, she might have a brain bleed” Sara yelled out to Dave as he tried his best to get to the trauma center.  Sara removed her sneakers and socks to reveal her small feet.  This was one of the harder cases to treat as Katy had multiple bruises and Sara was unsure of which ones were new and which ones were form previous fights.  They pulled into the hospital and unloaded the gurney as they rolled her into the trauma center.

Dr. Michael was surprised to see such a young woman with the injuries that she had. “What happened” Dr. Michael asked.  “Female boxer knocked out during a fight and hasn’t regained consciousness since, possible brain injury as well as injuries to her abdomen and head.”  They lifted Katy onto the bed as the backboard clips were undone.  They rolled her off the backboard as the gurney was taken out of the room and the trauma team took over.  They began running tests and were waiting for the CT to be available.  Dr. Michael noticed that a large bruise to her abdomen continued to darken and was concerned of internal bleeding.  He palpitated her belly gently while a nurse cut off her bra and compression shorts leaving her exposed.  A second IV was placed as meds were pushed.  Dr. Michael used the ultrasound and moved it around on her abdomen as he spotted what he believed to be internal bleeding in her belly.  A unit of blood was hung in attempt to stabilize her pressure.  Using the stethoscope, he listened to her breathing and decided to intubate her.  The metal blade was slid into her mouth as the long tube traversed down her throat.  A blue holder was secured as respirations were continued.  The CT scanner was ready as they rolled her down the hallway.  They transferred her onto the tray of the scanner as a nurse put on a protective vest and continued ventilations.  As the CT whined to life Katy’s vitals began to drop. “Doc I think somethings wrong” the nursed informed Dr. Michael who was in the computer room.  Before they knew it they had a full code in the scanner.  The monitors showed course VF as Katy’s heart began to fibrillate in her chest.  The bed slowly exited the scanner as Dr. Michael and another nurse surrounded Katy.  The nurse began CPR  as the PA system went off “Code Blue CT, Code Blue CT”  Katy’s blue poka dot gown was ripped off as CPR continued.  Her torso caved in with each compression.  The crash cart entered the room and the defib was set to 200.  Dr. Michael took the paddles in his hands and a nurse out conductive gel on one.  He rubbed them together before placing them on her chest.  “Charged, everyone stand clear” he announced.  The nurses backed away and put their hands in the air.  “Shocking” the defib was discharged into Katy as her body twitched.  Their was a slight blip on the monitor before continuing in VF.  “Charge to 300″  The defib whined as it charged again.  In a moment the paddles were back on Katy’s chest “Shocking” The second shock caused a greater reaction as her chest came off the table slightly before returning to its original place.  The monitor shot up again before showing a normal sinus rhythm.  Although the scan was interrupted they were able to get a few pictures of Katy’s brain before her arrest.  And the news wasn't good.  

Katy had major bruising in her brain along with a slight brain bleed as a result of the impact.  There was also damage shown from her previous concussions.  Katy was taken back to the trauma room as a neurological specialist entered the room with the results.  “This is some pretty traumatic injury for such a young girl”  He requested a drill and drilled a hole into the top of her skull to relieve some pressure on her brain.  Thick gooey blood exited the hole and a tube was inserted to continue relieving the pressure.  The specialist left as the X-ray was positioned over Katy and pictures were taken of her chest and abdomen.  As Dr. Michael had originally thought there was a tear in her stomach as well as bruising to her kidney and other organs.  The team was shocked that with her injuries she was still alive.  They just weren't sure how long she had left.  

Katy was wheeled into the OR to fix the tear in her stomach.  A green sheet was placed over her chest and lower body while betadine was spread across her abdomen.  A blue cap was placed on her head as well.  The surgeon made his first incision blood exited the wound.  It took some time for him to find the exact location of the injury.  With some stitched in place it seemed like a simple surgery.  However, the blood continued to build up in her abdomen.  Suction was used so that the surgeon could attempt to locate the other bleeder.  There was a laceration to her aorta in her upper abdomen which was likely the source of the bleeding.  While he attempted to clamp off the bleeder Katy slipped into v-fib for a second time.  The clamps were left in place as the green sheet was removed and her chest was compressed again.  Drugs were pushed as the defib was charged to 300.  The paddles were gelled and placed on her bare chest.  The shock coursed through her body as the clamps shook in her abdomen.  With no change a shock at 360 was delivered.  Katy reacted violently to the shock.  This sent her into asystole as the tear in her aorta became larger due to the force of the defibrillation.  CPR was continued as she shook around on the table under the bright lights.  After the five minute mark of Katy’s code a second round of drugs were pushed.  It took another minute for v-fib to be obtained.  The paddles were gelled and placed back on her chest as she was shocked again at 360.  Katy’s hands twitched inward with the shock.  With no change a second shock was delivered.  Her toned shoulders contracted inward as her torso left the table and came back down.  A third shock was required as her feet kicked off the table and her toes scrunched up on her small feet.  The third shock sent Katy back into asystole.  CPR was resumed as her chest caved in.  The surgeon finished off the bleeding of her aorta.  Katy quickly passed her ten minute mark in asystole.  At her twelve minute mark Katy converted into v-fib again as the paddles were once again charged, gelled, and placed on her bare chest.  The shock made her body heave off the table before crashing back down.  Her breasts bounced around.   A second shock was delivered as the muscles in her neck could be seen as she was shocked.  With no change CPR was resumed.  Katy’s fit body shook around on the table as the team desperately tried to save her young life.  With the defib charged to 360 again the surgeon placed them into his hands rubbed them together and thought to himself.  “Come on, last chance”  The paddles were placed on her chest again where a large amount of gel had been spread across.  Katy heaved into the air, her arms and legs contracted, her head snapped back.  As she crashed down again the monitor jumped once, twice, a third time.  By a miracle a regular pulse was regained at Katy’s seventeen minute mark.  Her abdomen was closed up and she was sent to the ICU.  

There were tubes and wires all over her body and she was covered in a hospital gown and a blanket covering her legs.  Katy remained in the ICU for three days while her condition improved slightly.  Katy would remain in a come for twenty three days before regaining consciousness.  It was a miracle that she was alive and she went on to be an advocate for safer boxing and teaching young women how to box.

[vangoghmusings]

starving artist | shota aizawa x reader

hello!! this is chapter three of “starving artist” and i really hope you guys are enjoying it :) ive really loved writing it! i update primarily to wattpad (@/vangoghpoets) but i update here as well! also, don’t be afriad to reach out with requests <3 

You basically passed out the moment you arrived home, exhausted from your week. The following morning you forced yourself to wake up early and begin the sketch and underpainting of the first canvas for the first-year dorm common area. You're usually a scrambled mess when it comes to your artwork, but you wanted to try being organized for once.

Looking down at the half-finished brown underpainting, you sighed in frustration. Your fingers ached, not having done such a large amount of sketching in a long time. You grabbed your sketchbook for reference, noticing the numbers scribbled down in the corner.

"Aizawa..." you mumbled to yourself. A blush crept up your cheek

you: hi aizawa, i hope you got some rest! this is y/n btw :)

You didn't expect a reply right away, yet your phone chimed in mere minutes.

aizawa: i didn't expect you to be an early bird y/n. and yes i got some rest, thank you.

You giggled at his punctuation, even over text he seemed so serious. You left your art easel and went to sit down on your couch.

you: ive just begun my underpainting so i have a lot of work today

aizawa: whats an underpainting? i thought it was called a canvas

You laughed to yourself, curling up on your couch.

you: no no, an underpainting is first layer of paint applied to canvas, its a base for future layers of paint

aizawa: I had no idea painting was so intricate. i just figured you were either talented or not.

you: it's just like being a hero, you'll never be good if you don't put your all in it. And you want to do great, no matter how difficult it is.

aizawa: i'm guessing you're pretty tired then.

you: incredibly tired.

It was true, you were utterly drained from jumping back and forth from teaching to painting. It felt like you hadn't had a single moment to yourself since you started at UA. Your phone chimed again.

aizawa: do you want me to bring you a coffee? it's the least i can do since you picked all those leaves out of my hair and because i fell asleep on you.

You blinked at the text, surprised at the offer. You had a tiny crush on Aizawa that you were constantly pushing down. Maybe this could be an opportunity to prove yourself that you could get over your mushy feelings for him. You typed back quickly.

you: coffee sounds amazing actually! are you sure you don't mind?

aizawa: not at all.

You gave him your address and tried to bury the giddy feelings swelling up inside you. In an attempt to distract yourself from his impending arrival, you went back to your easel and continued your underpainting. You put your entire focus on completing the underpainting, working with both speed and detail. You were adding shading to the canvas figures when the doorbell rang. You shot up from your concentrated position and wiped your face flustered, forgetting about the orange paint that covered your fingertips.

You walked over and opened the door, smiling to see Aizawa out of his work attire. He wore a simple black sweater that looked a little too big on him, accompanied by black jeans and what appeared to be Doc Marten boots.

"Hello!" You smiled at him, letting him enter your home.

He smiled softly, holding the coffee cups in his hands.

"Hello, y/n. You have paint on your face by the way."

Your eyes widened in horror at his words. You began to laugh nervously as you hurried to the bathroom, Aizawa left standing in your living room and looking around. You scrubbed your face quickly, mentally scolding yourself for the careless move. You swiftly fixed your hair and walked back out to meet Aizawa.

He turned to you and handed you your coffee. "I hope you like vanilla, it was just a guess."

You grinned, taking the warm cup in your hands and taking a whiff of the sweet steam peeking out.

"It's perfect, thank you."

Aizawa nodded, looking around your living room. He looked odd standing in all black in your colorful home. From the rug to the furniture to the dinnerware, your home was eccentric, to say the least. Whether it was a souvenir from your travels or trinkets of a local artist, everything had its place. Aizawa looked like a goth at a child's birthday party in your home.

He took a sip from his coffee and gestured to a painting on the wall. It was an old painting of a village, filled with rustic colors and gentle strokes. You smiled softly at the feelings of home that surged over you.

"No, my grandmother made it. I inherited her quirk actually. It's a painting of the village we grew up in."

Aizawa turned to you and tilted his head, "Village?"

You chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, my family is from a poor island in the Caribbean. My parents moved us to America so we could have a better life. We as in my sister and me." You smiled to yourself, picturing your family back home.

"So why are you in Japan now?"

"I'd always save up money from my art shows to come here. Everything is just so beautiful and I'm a sucker for a good still life. I just figured I could save myself the money and move here."

Aizawa nodded, slightly confused at your art terminology.

"Can I see one of your paintings? Or your underpainting thing?"

You giggled and nodded, leading him into your mini art studio. The room had an easel and stacks upon stacks of prepped paper and canvases. Jars filled with brushes, charcoal, Indian ink, and pencils lined the shelves. A bucket sat on a small table, filled to the brim with acrylic paints. Another box filled with oil, one filled with gauche, and the last one filled with watercolor palettes.

"It's kind of a mess, sorry," you mumbled under your breath as he walked inside. Aizawa looked around entranced. Several finished and partly finished paintings hung from clips on a string, drying or waiting to be sold. He faced your easel and scrunched his nose in confusion.

"Why is it all one color?" He pointed to the orange underpainting.

"Underpaintings are monochromatic," you answered matter-of-factly. "It gives the painting more depth."

Aizawa nodded, his mouth forming a small 'o' shape in understanding. There was a moment of silence as Aizawa continued to look around in awe.

"This is really incredible, y/n," He said softly. You felt the heat take over your face, making you panic rather than take the compliment. "Who's your inspiration?"

You blinked, still flustered from your tomato red blush, "Huh?"

Aizawa stepped towards you, tossing the empty coffee cup in the trash.

"Who inspired you? Like, every young hero is inspired by a pro. Who's your pro?"

You smiled softly, "My grandmother, I mean she gave me this great quirk. Its nothing a hero could really use, but its been good to me so far. But as for a professional artist, I'd have to say, Matisse."

He tilted his head, clearly not knowing who he was. You chuckled, "He's a French painter." Aizawa nodded once again.

"I've been to France before, Paris specifically. It was for a pro hero conference but still."

Your eyes widened, "Of all the places in Europe I've traveled to, I've never been to Paris. It's basically my dying wish to go to the Louvre."

"I didn't get to do much tourism when I was there, I'd like to go back someday."

You smiled at Aizawa, he didn't strike you as someone who'd enjoy traveling or tourism, but you could still imagine him in a cheesy Hawaiian shirt and a camera strapped around him. The image in your head made you giggle softly. He eyed you and looked down at your hands.

"I heard about your quirk but I've never seen you use it."

"I could say the same for you," I said lying. Of course, you'd seen clips of him and his quirk on the news, but never really in front of you.

He rolled his eyes, "Show me."

You tried to hide your flustered blush that emerged from his sudden seriousness. You grabbed a paper from the stack and gently placed your whole palm on it.

"What's your favorite color?"

He looked down at himself and his black attire and back up at you.

"Yellow actually."

You nodded, remembering his yellow goggles and sleeping bag. Once you pulled your hand away, the paper had a mustard yellow imprint of your palm. You showed him your hand, the paint disappearing back into your skin.

Aizawa raised his eyebrows impressed, "You managed to match the color to my sleeping bag."

You grinned; proud he had noticed, "I'm pretty good at shade matching." He gently took the paper with your handprint.

"You have small hands." He looked up at your hands and lifted his up for comparison. You lifted your hand up and placed it on his. He was right, your hand was small compared to his. You stared at his hand on yours, not wanting to pull away. His palms were calloused, most likely from hero work. You gave him a sly smile. Aizawa furrowed his brows in confusion, "What?" He pulled his hand away, only to see an imprint of paint of your palm on his in your favorite color. "Hey!" He grumbled and pulled his hand away from you grumpily.

"Now you know my favorite color," you giggled. He sent a glare in your direction, swiftly running his hand across your cheek, covering you in the paint. You gasped, "Aizawa!"

He burst out laughing at the smear of paint on your cheek. It was the first time you truly saw him laugh and it caught you off guard. You narrowed your eyes at him, your hands prepping the paint.

"Oh, you are so dead Aizawa."

He gave you a smirk, "Oh really?"

You shot bright neon shades of paint from your fingertips, splatter painting his black sweater. His eyes widened.

"Yes, really." You answered, returning the smirk.

He stared at you and before you could realize, he had used his quirk to erase yours. Swiftly he wrapped his arms around you, like a tight hug, and covered you in the fluorescent paint. You gasped trying to break free. "Aizawa I can't believe you!" You couldn't help but laugh at seeing his body wrapped around yours, the usual dark figure covered in bright hues. He chuckled and slowly let go of you. As much as you hated being covered in paint, you missed his arms around you.

"You know you can call me Shota, right?"

You blushed, thankful for the paint on your cheeks covering it up.

"Okay, Shota."  

[aharris00britney]

ASKS 19

It’s 6am and Brandon woke me up when he got up to go to work so now... i answer asks bc i cant sleep. 

@mileyzangel said: Can you please make a Harley Quinn hairstyle from both Suicide Squad and Birds of Prey?

I went and watched Birds of Prey the other night and it was really good. Brandon went to sleep I think tfgvhb. But I doubt I’ll try doing her hair from either of the films. @enriques4 is working on one for her Birds of Prey look if you are interested in that <3

Anonymous said: is tiny living worth it? im leaning towards the gameplay although i love cas. is the gameplay as bad as people say?

I honestly don’t think the new beds do anything. They’re... there. Lmao I think the CAS and buy items are very nice. If we get some cc murphy beds then that would make them a lot more usable tbh.  

Anonymous said: how do you and ayoshi keep making some fantastic collabs?? y'all are literally the first people i go to when I make a fresh install and I can't wait to see what you do next

Anonymous said: AxA CC KINGS!!!

Anonymous said: you guys didnt have to snap like that on AxA

Anonymous said: I LOVE EVERY SINGLE PACK U AND AYOSHI DO PLEASE KEEP MAKING MORE

Anonymous said: another iconic ah00b x ayoshi collab YAS LESSGOOOO

We put a bunch of cc ideas (hair and clothes) in a discord server we have together and then work on the stuff together on call usually so each item is the way we both want me. Like for example i’ll be meshing the Ivy top while he works on texturing the ribbed version.  We also only do collabs when they happen, we didn’t plan AxA 2019 or this new set, mainly just made cc starting in May and wrapped it up in July to release in August. Then this time we started making stuff late December and got most of it done by the time I got done with my break. Having a planned collab/deadline makes stuff less stressful and the stuff usually turns out better imo

Anonymous said: hi! ur sims are so prettyyyy what skin texture and eyes do u use?

Anonymous said: hi! wcif the eyes of the sim in the edit that Dogsill edited for you please? thank you!

Anonymous said: Hi! I really love the way your sims looks so, I was what skin and eyes you use?

I actually am changing my default eyes so I need to update my resource page soon ;n; but the skins they use are all listed for each sim on the resource page here

Anonymous said: you always name axa packs by the year but this one was named after a season those that mean.... 👀

We are wanting to do something in the fall, just not sure how our lives will be then ya know? There’s a chance that this will be the AxA 2020. Since we weren’t sure I didn’t want to label it that if 2 AxA’s release this year lmao

Anonymous said: what game is the pokemon thing you're playing!? pls help a guy out i'm in love with the art style

Pokemon Sword and Shield (I have shield) for Nintendo Switch. I’ll prob post more pics once I get some new shinies :P

@kristabunny said: lol is it bad that when I saw your Santana hair I read it as Satan Hair XD

tbhhhhh it was lowkey referencing that lmao. I made the hair in October for a speed meshing video and since it was around Halloween I was like “lemme give her an almost demonic name” also Santana from glee is a queen

Anonymous said: Tbh I absolutely adore your female cc but I LIVE for your male cc!!!

Thank you! lmao the only thing I can take full credit for is the AxA male hairs. I mesh the clothes for packs but ayoshi does the texturing for them.  

Anonymous said: Could you have a go at the updo Dua Lipa has on the cover of her Future Nostalgia? The high bun with a flick in it and the strands of hair down the sides. Thanks if so :)

I’m not the biggest fan of the hairstyle tbh ;n; but we will see. (Physical is a serve, just saying)

Anonymous said: So ive never played pokemon before until my friend gave me a copy of pokemon moon. I love cats so of course my starter was a litten, but i had no clue about evolutions or anything like that. I was heartbroken when my cute litten turned into some big man cat :(

omg noooo ;n; yeah Litten is a cutie... incineroar is... well I got used to him tbh and kind of like him now? I absolutely hate scorbunny’s evolution (and most of the SWSH starters final evolution) so I think that made incineroar slightly better in my eyes. My shiny litten will be staying a kitten however :)

@multifandom-slytherin said: Hello! I love your cc! Would it be possible for you to make the bangs from your Bree Hair a separate accessory that you can put with other hairs (for example the BG low ponytail)? Thank you so much!

Anonymous said: have u considered making or allowing someone to make an acc version of your handmade bangs?

I have thought of doing accessory bangs tbh, I just like... don’t like using accessory bangs myself. So I’m not sure if I’ll end up doing it. I might try it for myself and see how many hairs they work with, and if it is a decent amount I’ll release. 

Anonymous said: First off I want to say how amazing all of your hairs and collabs are! Second I was curious if you ever thought of going back to your old hairs and updating their thumbnails / display indexes so they matched your stuff now?

I really really wanted to have all my 2019 hairs updated by 2020. It was only January 2019-April 2019 that needed updated (thumbnails and display indexes). But I just lost motivation for doing it. I will focus on it next time I have a big break from school. Also planning on updating select stuff from 2018 and 2017. 

Anonymous said: please put Sophia Barker in the gallery. PLEASEEEEE it's the most beautiful sim I EVER seen! >:3 PLEASEEE!!!!!!!!!!

She should be on there? I think? Make sure you have CC enabled and if you can’t find me through the gallery her tray files are here

Anonymous said: Hi! After the recent patch I started having a small issue with Bree hair(without bangs), when I zoom out it looks like a completely different hair, something similar to that one basegame hair that's layered with tips pointed outward but longer. Thought I'd let you know, maybe others have had a similar issue or maybe I need to change a setting or something. Love your work so much!

Really surprised this is the first time someone told me about this lmao. The hair should be updated now on SFS/Patreon <3

Anonymous said: I tried to look around for this on your "Asks" portion before bothering you (so sorry), but do you have a link perhaps for all the lips you use on your models? Are they in game or a cc you create? Thanks so much! Love all of your work! I'm super new to cc stuff and I found yours like 2 days ago and have been going nuts with downloads lol 

like presets? None of my cc models use a lip preset. I do use this slider on some of them though. For lipsticks, that is listed for each model on my resource page <3

Anonymous said: i’ve been looking for a hair like lexi that i actually like forever and now i find it but it’s for paterson peeps and i’m like actually broke and i’m like :/

im sorry ;n; at least it wasn’t too long of a wait? :/ I hope you liked the hair

Anonymous said: I can't find your jisoo ponytails in your downloads?

they’re in my retired section... may they rest in peace. scroll to the bottom of my downloads and youll see ��RETIRED.’ click that for the retired download page. 

@eclypt-0-sims said: Hi, I recently started making MM hair and I know you're probably an expert at this but; every time I go into CAS to test a hair, all of my accessories clip with the hair. Like the hair texture would cover some glasses if my sim was wearing glasses. I don't know how to fix it, someone told me to delete an eye weight in blender but I don't really understand weight painting that much, any suggestions? love your content btw

this is a late as hell reply i’m sorry. I think that you have texture where the glasses texture would be. Hair texture should only be in hair section or hat section (if you don’t want it hat compatible). Here is a UV map layout that I use for making hair textures. It shouldnt have anything to do with weights

Anonymous said: Do you use reshade when you take previews for your cc? and also is the tropical punch ombre overlay a palette or did you make it?

I do use reshade when I take cc previews. It adds a bit of saturation to my sims and gives them some shadows under their chin/clothes. Nothing major. Also, myself and @imvikai came up with the tropical punch palette together.

@little-eris​ said: You probably have answered this before but who drew your tumblr icon? I’ve seen the same art style with other simmers 👉🏼👈🏼 it’s super cute!

thank you! here is their twitter 

Anonymous said: The male sim in your Tiny Living review looks soo familiar; was there inspiration from anyone IRL? The person he reminds me of isn't even famous so I don't even know! He is very pretty though *-*

He was a gallery sim that I just revamped a bit so I’m honestly not super sure lmao. But he is very attractive yes I agree

that concludes this ask ceremony please collect your things and move to the exit to your left. fvghbjn if you sent something I didn’t answer and it was off anon I’ll get to you soon (person who asked what beards I used for AxA... I see you)

[biznichwrites]

Hi, how are you? I hope fine! ❤️ I have (a little strange) a request. Can you write a one shot about Giyuu and reader being together, but reader finds out Giyuu is kissing another girl and runs away, with Giyuu following her, but reader ends up being hit by a car and she is in coma but then she wakes up and all happy and fluffy things in the end? Thank you, and sorry for the bother! ❤️

My one shot skills are a little rusty, I haven't written a true fan fic in about… 6 or 7 years LOOOOOL but I'll give it a try! I’m sorry I haven’t written this one for you yet, it left me a bit stumped for some reason. 

I put this under a cut because it came out to be like 5 pages long (WHOOPS I APOLOGIZE FOR NOTHING)

Giyuu wasn’t one to kiss others, typically. He was always loyal, typically. The boyfriend you bragged to others about, typically. But typical wouldn’t over this situation now, would it?

Or at least that’s how you rationalized what you were seeing. You were coming to meet Giyuu for a party after classes and work, but you desperately asked him to come so you couldn’t back out now, even though you really wanted to. Maybe you could make an appearance and dip, you doubt your boyfriend would have an issue with that. As you walked up to the party you tried to call him to receive no answer, not to mention your texts from earlier weren’t answered as well. Well, that was odd, but maybe he took the initiative and went to the party ahead of you! 

Pocketing your phone you walked up to the party and things fell into a hush. Well shit, that’s awkward. Shinobu was the first to snatch you from the crowds of the party and bring you to a quiet hallway.

“What the actual hell is going on?” The cute butterfly clip in her hair betrayed the strain in her voice.

“What are you talking about? I told you I was coming to the party and dragging Giyuu along.”

“Ah, well it seems there’s a miscommunication going around.” With a twist of your face and a confused tilt of your head she continued. “We were told you weren’t coming, but things should be fine.”

“Should be?” The short woman was always a mystery and full of sass, so you didn’t question much. Before you could even get a breath and leave the hall Mitsuri made her way down to you. Was something really that bad?

“I was so worried about you when I heard! I had no idea what was going on.” The pink haired woman had obviously had a couple of drinks and seemed as if she were floating. 

“No one told me what happened and now I’m getting anxious. All day I’ve been at class then work, is anyone going to tell me?”

“Shinobu didn’t say?” A gasp flew from the other woman’s lips. “It was said you an Giyuu broke up!”

“WHAT?”

No. No, no, no. Not an option, you were going to be together forever. 

“Someone was showing messages from you that said you didn’t want to see him again. But now I think about it, there wasn’t really any way to prove who it was…”

You wanted more detailed but you heard Giyuu’s voice though the party goers. So he showed up without you? With a rushed apology to the love guru of the dorms you bolted off to find him. You found him in the kitchen of the frat house, pouring himself two drinks. Two??? He didn’t look especially sad, or happy, or really anything. 

You couldn’t say the same for yourself. There was some rage, to put it lightly. Especially as he turned towards you a girl popped up, pulling his face to hers to grab a few sloppy drunk kisses. 

THAT BITCH. She had always been trying for Giyuu long before the two of you got together. You were so mad that you froze. You could hear two voices from behind you, sounding awfully like the women you spoke to earlier. 

“See, Giyuu, I told you that wasn’t real. No one other than her would-” Whatever snide comment Shinobu was going to make died on her tongue as she came to the scene.  You rage took a deep plunge, spiralling out of control in mere seconds.

So if you broke up with him he had someone to replace you that night? Was that really all you meant to him? And with a girl you never trusted to begin with? Even your friends knew better, but he, of all people, didn’t?

Tears blurred your eyes as his own locked with yours, making time stand still for a moment, and you darted past the crowds. You wanted to go home, you didn’t need to be here. Misturi called for you but it just made you run faster. Not today, you couldn’t deal with this right now. You made your way through the house, ignoring calls of your apparent ex-boyfriend.

You just wanted to make it to your car, at least you could shut everyone out and find some semblance of stability enough to drive home. Right as you hit the street you heard his voice calling clearly, something about wait, and despite your better judgement your head swung around to look at him. Why did he have such a horrified face on?

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

You woke up in a weird room. What the fuck is going on? Jesus, everything hurt. Why did your body feel so strange? A choked groan left your lips as your eyes adjusted to the light. This sucked, from what you could tell you were in the hospital. You didn’t even remember much about how you got here. Did you get black out drunk? Someone spike a drink with LSD and you tripped way too hard?

With effort you brought your hands up to itch your eyes. Well it was a shitty enough night, all things considered, you needed to get out of here and go home. When you went to stand up some alarms went off and you couldn’t stop the pounding in your head that followed.

“Damn, just shut up.” Your voice sounded scratchy, like it didn’t belong to you, but that was the least of your problems. With a huff you turn towards the door to get a nurse to turn off the machine, but Giyuu is standing there, looking shocked. Why was he looking at you like that? You’d just seen him a couple of days ago before class. 

You’d never seen him move so fast. Everything in his hands was on the floor and he ran up to you and scooped you up in a hug. What was that noise? Was he crying? You would move your arms to push him back to see if he was okay, but the sheer number of IVs in your arms stopped you. 

“I was so worried you wouldn’t wake up.” His lips brushed your temple and it left you in a state of shock. He was never so affectionate, not in any amount of time you’d been with him. Strange. “Let me get the nurses so they could discharge you.”

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

If you were to be honest the whole thing was a haze. The next day you were allowed to come home after a few scans. In fact it wasn’t until your discharge paperwork rested on your lap did you even realize it was going on. When the doctors said you had “been out for a while” you had expected a day or two, not 3 fucking months.

On your way out of the hospital you were absolutely losing your shit. Your job, your classes, your bills, THE PLACE YOU LIVE. Oh fuck, your life is over. Giyuu picked you up but you were getting car sick fast, but the glances you saw weren’t going to your place. 

“Giyuu… Uh, where are we going?”

“Home.” So eloquent, a man of few words. “I’ll explain when we get home”

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

You sat on his bed, looking at your belongings filling the once empty space of his room. He said he had things figured out, this isn’t what you had expected in the least.

“You might be upset with me.” Maybe, things were just weird as hell now. 

“I talked with your parents to make sure you were taken care of.” Shocking, considering he never really spoke to them, even during visits. 

“So um… Your stuff is here. To make sure your account didn’t overdraw from rent your parents broke the contract.” Probably the only reason your phone was still working. 

“Your classes… I finished them.”

“What?” You could only take so much, like damn.

“Your parents had them transferred to online versions, so I completed them for you. It was too late to withdraw and I know you didn’t want an F on the finals”

You didn’t know how to respond. Of course he said he loved you, but he really meant it. Like REALLY meant it.

“Giyuu-”

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

He didn’t really go past that, but he didn’t seem to want to let you go. 

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

“I know I shouldn’t have.” Finally he told you what happened. He hid his face behind his hands, but you could still tell his eyes were on the verge of tears. “I was hoping to see you there, I wanted to see you face to face. I shouldn’t have started drinking, I should have thought about you.” 

You hadn’t seen him cry over anything so much, especially for your sake. Even the anniversary of his sister passing didn’t get such a reaction. Slowly you moved closer, as best as you could where you were with recovery. 

“Giyuu, it’s okay.”

“It’s not.” He huffed, but at least he was looking up at you.

“Well, yes and no. It wasn’t an okay experience, but things worked out, right?” Your hand rose to his cheek, cupping it as you brushed away a stray tear.

“Things working out, like I ruined your life?” He looked over, seeing a few faint marks along your body that weren’t there before. “I don’t know how to live with myself for letting this happen to you.”

You shut him up with a soft kiss. He really couldn’t deny you, now especially.

“I love you, Giyuu.”

“I love you, too.” 

[rqs902]

on one hand im happy that this means there’s gonna be a lot of official content since the eps are supposedly so long that they gotta cut them in half. 

youku has been pretty consistent with giving us a relatively good amount of official content. but on the other hand im always slightly concerned that by splitting up perfs, those whose perfs get aired first will have a competitive voting advantage since (as long as they do well) those kids will have a full extra day of persuading people to vote for them through their stage performance. It’s not as huge of a deal as when other shows split performances across weeks, because a whole week ahead is a much bigger advantage than one day ahead. but every day can help those who need the votes. at least akey and zhan yu got aired today.... feels bad for jin fan because he really needs the votes. 

also another down side is just this show’s eps are SO LONG they’re eating up a ton of my free time LOOOL but thats how these shows always go for me... because I always end up taking like double the amount of time to watch an ep, just to pause, digest, rewatch sections that i like (sometimes multiple times), make sure i understand, etc. i feel like these shows always consume my life during the few months they’re airing so i’ll just enjoy it while I can HAH

..

anyway ep 4 starting with singapore buddies huang junrong and sun yinghao speaking english with their singapore accents!!!!! lol can totally relate to yinghao tho, like when you cant read chinese you gotta find someone to translate for you

yang chaowen with dog!!!!! i wonder if the dog really likes him LOL they seem to appear together on camera often. akey with chen junhao!! and zuo linjie!! making friends!!!

lol i feel like the group leader choice method is some sort of extended advertisement for knock off apple products lol.........

HAHAHHAHAHAH LIN MO’S VIDEO STARTING OFF ALL FORMAL AND NERVOUS AND THEN XUE EN’S CUTS HIM WITH HIM BEING STUPID. I LOVE IT. there’s two types of people. how did they not vote for xue en HAHAHAH

interesting that they picked the songs for the self-composition group ahead of time, rather than make them make the song as part of the competition (looks at produce camp... fireman is my jam but the east binhe road team ran into complications with that, so I can see why it’d be more risky to let them do that again) but lucky for zheng renyu and li chenxu tho! I’m interested in hearing their music so i dont mind, just kinda wondering what the other kids who picked composition would’ve brought to the table

oh theyre still giving yan an screen time... every time i see him im happy but then feel oof

oo zhanyu’s first stage look is just so nice oof xikan talking to lin mo but lin mo looks ded and is all eye patched up :( 

LOL su er all jubilant over a sexy concept song - good luck with that

oooof this shot of jin fan’s perfect side angle 

aw akey being bested by shaopeng at every match... but im so excited to see what they can do together, theyre both so good at making music!!!! the resident music makers for each of their respective groups, tyger and coreone, theyre both so talented! def shaopeng has and deserves the credit but hopefully people will see akey contributed too bc im sure the two of them really led together, being the most experienced rappers hahaha

WHOA csp opening up to qu boyu and saying he has older step brother and sister who have a different mom from him and encouraging him to just be real when writing because there will be people out there who connect with his lyrics awww hes really taking this child under is wing and teaching him from zero, hes really like a big bro taking care of him and enjoying watching him grow. im glad csp is opening up and is self reflective enough to realize that he hasnt done so enough in the past and that he should involve himself more with the others. 

im happy cui shaopeng got to feature in the bts clip for his group, he deserves it and hasnt gotten much screentime relative to his talent before. im happy akey got a little time and some recognition for his skills too. honestly just happy akey FINALLY got to do a rap stage..... wish we couldve gotten more huang enyu and huang junrong but im happy they got to show off their vocals!! for being young vocals in a rap performance, their stage presence were both really good too! csp’s entrance is epic wow. 

wow this is the most hyper performance ive ever seeeen wow im so happy for akey because we know how long hes been waiting for a rap stage and wow csp’s leadership must be top notch to get this group to somehow be cohesive with such a not cohesive song LOL i respect that csp really respected akey’s skill and let him shine too. akey was a second c if ive ever seen one lol. they both got to shine and so did everyone else in their group, which is telling of his leadership and why this stage turned out so well that even all the teachers like jackson were so hype LOL 

OOF shen bohuai and lin mo talking about how akey’s lyrics are so moving like lin mo wanted to cry and bohuai felt like he could tell akey’s been through a lot

lol xikan and bohuai being all tough and lin mo being like lol i feel the pressure. shaopeng smiling like a proud parent when boyu gets good comments c: oof rip akey and shaopeng’s votes tho :c 

lin ran’s look tho LOL but zhan yu’s is so questionable?? why is he in this group ?? LOL but i guess its his turn to do something cutesy. mannnn why does zhan yu look like hes surrounded by children but hes not even that much older//?? hahahha ooooo is this the center zhan yu of legend?? ?hahahah yayyy hopefully more people will notice him! you know when i heard zhan yu was gonna be center, this was not the type of song i was imagining, but hey if it takes a cutesy happy song and a bunch of little kids around to get zhan yu a chance to be center, ill take it! i wish they’d show us some practice footage?? im confused why there isnt any?? i think sun boran’s stage presence is good! zhan yu’s voice so powerful yess somehow he managed to show off different aspects of his vocal skills in this very plain song LOL  im surprised lin ran didnt stand out a lot but when they pointed out that he purposefully put himself in the back to protect his team members i think that makes sense bc he knows being cute isn’t going to be able to win them as many votes but if the less popular kids in his group dont get votes, its a lot more devastating for them than for himself. lin ran didnt want this song and he didnt want to be cute but he really didnt want kids to suffer from choosing his group. lin ran has a cute image but i appreciate that this time we got to see a more serious side of him. isnt it ridiculous that theyve literally trashed zuo qibo and lin mo about being old but then literally i didnt realize until now sun yinghao is the oldest??? (he looks really young wow and so tiny aw) but also like they never bring up akey being old either?? some sort of weird bias going on... but i mean good for yinghao and akey lol 

but aw im glad theyre giving yinghao some attention... 10 years and starting off with jackson? oof... 

ayy zhan yu getting the most votes!! 

kou cong being older bro to zlj but also ultimate mentor to cxh aw yay for him getting some recognition from the judges and jin fan supporting him too heheh but it says a lot that he recognizes cxh’s efforts and wanted to put in his own effort to help him

i wonder if them giving zlj less audience votes is an elaborate scheme to get him more pity votes from the general public lol.... well im excited to see the rest of the stages tomorrow! 

[solohux]

Ben gets stolen away by the First Order against his will, and Poe is running in to save him! (Maybe Ben isn't that strong as a Jedi yet, or Hux is simply doing vile things to him) (if this is ABO or not is up to you

i can feel you across the stars (1700 words, read on AO3)

“Hey, sleeping beauty. Hey, shhh. C’mon. We need to head back. Your Uncle will be wondering where you’ve got to.”

Ben smiles as he emerges into wakefulness, woken by the gentle sounds of Poe’s voice and the feeling of his familiar hand stroking through his hair. He opens his eyes slowly, expecting to be blinded by the bright Yavin IV sunshine that he fell asleep in but it’s almost dark, the sun barely shining through the gracefully lush canopy of the forest. The sounds of birds fade into the distance as they nestle in for the evening though the creek that he and Poe have napped beside still flows with a peaceful trickling sound.

“Ten more minutes,” Ben mutters, snuggling back down into the soft blanket that’s spread out underneath them. “Just…not yet.”

He looks to Poe, beside him, and finds himself unable to close his eyes. In the warm orange glow of the sunset, Poe looks more handsome than Ben has ever seen him. His honey-coloured eyes hold so much emotion that Ben feels it radiating from him through the Force, coming through in drips and drabs but there, nonetheless, unmistakably love.

“I’m not getting into trouble with Luke for making you late to meditation again,” Poe laughs, smiling, and Ben can’t help but smile in return at the sight.

“I don’t want to leave,” Ben says, suddenly feeling sad. “Something...Something feels so right about this.”

“About us?”

“Yeah.”

“I know,” Poe leans in, kissing the tip of Ben’s nose. “I…”

“I love you,” Ben can’t help it. He’s said those words before he can bite his tongue and remind himself that they’re still teenagers, still under the laws of their parents. Poe is his best friend, and Ben is certain that those three little words have just lost him forever—

“I know that, too,” Poe replies. His hand cups Ben’s cheek, brushing over his freckles. “I love you more, Ben Solo. More than you’ll ever know.”

Poe’s words echo inside of Ben’s mind as he wakes from his dream, certain that he can still feel his hand on his cheek and the soft blanket beneath him, the gentle flow of the Temple’s creek. And for a moment, he allows himself to smile, opening his eyes whilst expecting to see Poe lying beside him, but instead, is greeted by the four walls of his holding cell.

He isn’t sure which star destroyer he’s on anymore: he’s been drugged and moved around so many times that he’s lost track of the First Order’s ships. The Force-suppression collar around his neck, too, means that he’s out of touch with everything he’s ever known. Even from a young age, Ben has been able to latch onto the minds of the ones he loves—he recalls how his mother talked about how she felt him before he was even born—and communicate with them, even across massive distances from one side of the galaxy to the other. For years, Ben found comfort in Poe’s mind; so calming and happy. It became a reflex to reach out to him when he felt troubled, and Poe welcomed it, but now everything is silent, drowned out by the collar around his neck.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” comes the familiar cold, clipped tone of General Hux as he enters the heavy, sliding door of Ben’s cell; the four grey walls, his bed, a table & chair, a datapad that’s filled with blocks and censors, limiting his browsing. “It’s moving day.”

“What?” Ben is shocked; he hasn’t been in this cell for very long, a few weeks, maybe. For the first year of his capture, he was in the same cell, never moved. Yet, over the last three years, he’s been moved countless times. Maybe the Resistance are close to finding him, maybe Poe is—

“The Supreme Leader requests your presence. It is, after all, your twentieth birthday today.”

Birthday? Ben had forgotten all about his birthdays. He can’t track the days, after all, and the months have all blurred whilst in captivity. His thoughts about how he spent his last birthday with his padawan comrades, his family and his precious Poe don’t stay in his mind for long, however, too troubled by the fact that Snoke wants to see him. He’s seen the Supreme Leader only thrice before; one upon his capture, the second after one of Hux’s intense interrogation sessions, and the third—

Ben feels bile come into his mouth. Since the beginning, Snoke had made it clear that he would go to any length to get the grandson of Darth Vader on his side, kneeling at his feet in the role of his attack dog, his apprentice. On every occasion, Ben has denied, spitting at the vile Leader, promising that he will finish what Anakin started; eliminating the creatures that lurk in the darkness. The coming pain had been unbearable; Force lightning, an assault on his mind that felt as though every one of his happy memories was being poisoned, especially the ones so emotionally charged, the ones of Poe.

“I’ll never join him,” Ben says, growling. He stands up from his cot, matching Hux’s height, his grey scrubs mirrored by the General’s dark uniform. “Or you. Any of you.”

Hux’s stern demeanour doesn’t falter. His gaze burrows into Ben’s skull as though trying to intimidate but it fails; Ben, like his mother before him, would never be intimidated by small Imperials in uniform.

“We’ll see, Solo,” Hux smirks, setting a hand on Ben’s cheek, grazing his gloved thumb across the fading freckles on Ben’s pale cheeks. “We’ll see.”

Ben jerks his cheek away, scowling. He wants to rip Hux’s arm from its socket, punch and kick him until he’s taking back everything he’s ever said and done to hurt Ben—but Ben sits down on his bunk, breathing deeply and thinking of the calm that he once found in Poe’s mind. Despite not being able to feel it, he remembers how it felt to be so connected to someone who meant so much to him, and it centres him.

“I love you more, Ben Solo. More than you’ll ever know.”

Ben sighs, shuddering as the colourless gas begins to floor his cell to knock him out, make him pliant and fightless for his transport to Snoke. He lies down, sending his mind back to his dream, to the memory of waking up beside the creek, beside Poe, when the only danger they faced was one of Uncle Luke’s scowls for arriving home late. Ben touches his cheek, rubbing it, certain that he feels Poe’s hand on his skin.

And as unconsciousness takes him, Poe is still, and forever, at the centre of his thoughts. No amount of pain or darkness will ever separate them. Not even death will stop him from being with Poe, with his love: his grandfather taught him that.

But little does Ben know that he’s being transported to Snoke’s ship because it’s the Destroyer with the highest amount of security, the one least likely to be attacked and boarded. Poe Dameron, Black Leader, and his squadron of rebels have taken down two small star destroyers in the last three months in the galaxy-wide search for Ben. They’re getting closer.

The Supreme Leader is afraid of them, Poe is certain. He can still hear Ben’s screams inside his head as he was hit with an electric baton before being caught in an energized net, one that completely disabled his powers and forced him into unconsciousness. The attack on the temple was terrible; Poe and Ben had thought it to be a malicious assault on the Jedi, perhaps someone with a vendetta against Luke, but when the Stormtroopers and mercenaries had begun to target Ben, focussing on weakening him before subduing him with the electric net as though he was some sort of animal, Poe had realised all too late that someone was after Ben.

Presently, in the silence of his cockpit in the Resistance hangar bay, Poe idly touches the controls, staring at a photograph of Ben that he keeps with him at all times, either inside of his X-Wing cockpit or on the inside pocket of his flight suit. He wonders how much Ben will have changed in four years. Will the First Order have forced him to cut his hair? Has he grown into his wide frame? Or has he grown thinner with the neglect? In Poe’s dreams, he and Ben are still teenagers, spending hours down by the creek, stealing time away from Ben’s Jedi studies to climb trees and swap stories, play games, talk about their future.

‘We’ll be the best team that the galaxy has ever seen,’ Poe had promised, sat high up in a tree with Ben, their legs dangling down, not a care in the galaxy to bother them. ‘No one will be able to stop us. I’ll always have your back.’

Poe punches the control panel in anger, feeling more useless than ever. He’s so close that he can almost feel Ben beside him, inside of his mind—wait. For a fleeting moment, Poe feels the familiar brush of Ben’s mind against his own, like a weight inside of his head that makes him feel certain of himself, confident and strong. He sits up, staring at Ben’s photo, swearing that he sees him blink.

“Ben? Ben, is that you?” Poe jerks forward in his seat, taking hold of the photo. “I’m here, shit, I’m right here—”

But he gets no reply and, soon enough, the feeling is gone in another second, leaving him alone and empty again. So empty.

He won’t stop until he and Ben are at that creek again, resting on that blanket in each other’s company until the sun sets and they go home together. He’s so close, he can feel it, sense it.

Ben is with him.

[iamcinema]

IAC Reviews #012: Traces of Death (1993)

Warning: Traces of Death is NSFW/NSFL and this review will go into topics about graphic violence, death media, and other issues that might be upsetting to some readers/viewers. However, this review won’t contain any such imagrey and is marked as safe. If you do want to check it out, then proceed with caution and take the opening [EXTREME WARNING] as your notice if you should leave or not. ________________________________________

In a recent post I made, I mentioned being stumped on what to do next since, as of writing this, I have close to 330 titles on my list to explore and cross off from a wide range of styles and categories; from relatively obscure found footage movies to the most utterly disappointing and abysmal trash that SOV has to offer. Given the explicit or just completely rare nature of some of these, I don’t expect all of these to stay around long. So, it’s probably wise to start from there and branch out to titles that are more accessible to come across in the wild. This means we’re taking another trip back to the world of mondo death media, which I don’t think we’ll be seeing for a while after this one - or at least I can only hope so.

Today, we’re taking a look into one of the most notorious shockumentary films out there, that being the first Traces of Death film; a brutal start in a five part series that marked a turning point within the already niche and controversial subgenre with the birth of the Internet and the dawning of the new millenium.

With the opening, we’re met with a text crawl notice stating that the makers planned on having a series of beeps before the start of the most explicit clips to act as a warning for viewers to look away in the event they see something they’d rather not have. However, this changed and the tones were omitted altogether because this would have meant having tones and beeps before every sequence. That’s a weird flex, but okay. The cold opening also tells us that because of the shocking nature of the film (and soon to be series) containing 100% authentic footage, this would make it the first “true” shockumentary.

I mean...

Yeah, I guess, you aren’t exactly wrong. It’s more authentic than Faces of Death by a landslide for sure and other questionable films around the same time like True Gore. That's something I won’t argue Damon Fox or Darrin Ramage on. However, to call it the first “true” shockumentary is a stretch because Death Scenes came out four years prior to this in 1989, and those photos were authentic. However, if we’re talking about just non-stop death media and imagrey one after the other, then that’s still a really questionable hot take.

It’s been a damn long time since I’ve seen this 13 some odd years ago, so let’s see where this takes us yet again. And yes, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop when the mods decide that me talking about this is not safe for work and it inevitably gets shadowbanned. ________________________________________

Traces of Death in One Gif:

I probably should have saved this gif for when I reviewed Extreme Life & Death, but even now I don’t know if I’m impressed by it or not. But, even here I’m not too sure how I completely feel.

As I said in before, there’s a saying that once you’ve seen one shockumentary, then you’ve seen all of them with their rinse, lather, repeat method of punching you back-to-back with random acts of violence caught on film. Just like its decrepit brothers and sisters before it, this is no different, even if it likes to beat it’s chest about being the new alpha of the pack to lead us into the next generation of shocking content. So, what is it about Traces of Death that has made it have the lasting impact or brutish reputation that it has if everything is at the end of the day “all the same”.

Well, let’s go into that. ________________________________________

The disclaimer and marketing for it helped for sure, solidifying everything that made some people feel cheated by Faces of Death with - that being the authenticity factor.

At this moment in time, Faces of Death IV had come out barely three years ago and the series was taking a bit of a nosedive with what was being pushed out. While there was still a fair amount of authentic footage, there was still a pitiful amount of staged and recreated material that looked very amaturish compared to the series’ hayday back in the late 1970s. It was clear what the gorehounds wanted and it was not only more death, but truly real death that could only be matched by the more obscure shockumentaries that either had yet to come out; like Death File, Death Press, Banned! in America, and MDPOPE, or had been spoken of in whispers and have faded into obscurity to the point of becoming rare and non-existent to the sands of time.

With the Internet being in its young infancy, you now had the power to be connected to others across the world in an instant and the need to seek out the taboo and forbidden was much closer to your fingertips than ever before. This new, booming demand to see and experience death wouldn’t truly be met until the birth of Rotten.com in 1996, oddly enough with the departure of Faces of Death the same year - a sort of sad way of the old days dying with a whimper, rather than the bang it had such high expectations for. If you weren’t able to find the raw carnage you anticipated with the Internet, then you had Traces of Death to curb your appetite until you could - no matter what the topic was.

For me, shockumentaries have at least two schools of thought with their presentation; a narrative style where everything is presented in an organized manner to designate different chapters, such as plane crashes, autopsies, animal death, and so on, or it’s more chaotic and disorganized in nature and you get hit left to right with whatever they can find. Traces of Death follows the more chaotic line of thinking. While it does make an attempt at some kind to figure out what it wants to do, a lot of it jumps around from one subject matter to the next, so you never really know what’s going to happen next. It’s pretty easy to go from a trucking accident one moment to a graphic surgery the next, if that makes sense.

This, in question, is where I sort of have a conflicting problem with whether or not this is the first “true” shockumentary or not. _______________________________________

As I stated previously, there have been other shockumentaries before this one that hone in on death in all its various forms, and is just as authentic as Traces of Death with the media presented. Once again, Death Scenes comes to mind. If the qualifications for it to be a true shockumentary is having an emphasis on death and dying, this helps Death Scenes and it’s case of being the one of, if not the first, genuinely true shockumentary with 100% unaltered media. So, what lead to Traces of Death taking the crown instead is purely anyone’s guess. I’d assume it was because of the in-name connection to Faces of Death and sheer bizarre access they had to so much footage with little to no money tied to the budget, which IMDb says was estimated to be $18 (at least $32.13USD as of March 2020 with an inflation rate of 2.5%).

That’s still absolute chump change compared to the unused news footage the Faces of Death team had access to back in the day, particularly with smuggled footage from overseas that wouldn’t really be seen anywhere else until other shockumentaries like Executions and the Banned! films would be unleashed. Speaking of which, what can we expect with this one in particular? Just like with the films before it, you can expect to see much of the same; graphic animal cruelty, animal attacks, road and sporting accidents, plane crashes, crime scene photos, autopsies, and surgery footage. The Wikipedia page for the series goes into greater detail about other sequences that been traced to other mondo films like True Gore and Ultime grida dalla savana, which makes one of the final sequences showing the death of tourist Pit Dernitz all the more interesting, as there’s been conflicting information about whether or not it was staged. While there’s sources out there that say it was authentic, if it turned out that this was in fake, then it completely damages the film’s reputation of being 100% real.

One thing the series does deviate from, at least as far as this one goes, is the narration as a storytelling tool. While we do get quips here and there from our edgy narrator, Damon Fox, it doesn’t completely guide us in the same manner as Faces of Death, Death Scenes, Executions, and many others would. The scenes mostly speak for themselves, something which Extreme Life & Death couldn’t make up it’s mind on given how it used a copy-and-paste method with stringing stuff along. This may have been to the series’ advantage though, as Damon said later on in an interview that he was told viewers hated the narration and accompanying instrumental soundtrack, and would just watch the movie(s) on mute while blasting their brutal death metal albums. This, in turn, lead to the series taking a big change with Traces of Death II (1994), as the soundtrack switched to showcase and promote metal and grindcore artists - and bands could have wrote in to have their own music featured if they wanted. This lead to artists like Gorefest, Macabre, End of Green, Grave, Dreadful Shadows, Hypocrasy, Meshuggah, and Sinister to be added to the impressive disography list for something with next to no budget, forever helping to change the voice of the series to help it stand out among the big dogs of its ilk. ________________________________________ 

If I had to name something that seriously hurts this, it’s that some scenes drag out for way too long and the shock and horror behind what’s in front of you begins to lose it’s luster after a while. In one way, it’s definetly tied into the saying where once you’ve seen say, one cranial examination, you’ve seen them all. In another, it’s also becoming somewhat unfazed after lingering on a certain image a bit too long - even if it’s bleak beyond words.  One scene in particular goes on for over ten minutes, and while it’s heavy for sure, it does subside a bit after some time...unless that’s just more telling about what kind of person I am. If you’re particuarly sensitive to gruesome content and it makes you uncomfortable, then this will have an entirely different affect on you. However, if you’re like me and you’ve seen, for example, a lot of medical and crime related violence, this won’t exactly be uncharted waters for you. It’s interesting to note though that Japan had a different edit of the film, removing some sequence and adding their own - but the more finer details on what kind of adjustments they made with photo or video evidence is alien to me.

There’s also the issue of the narration, which I feel detracts from the material and can feel annoying and cringy in the same ways that Faces of Gore does with the tasteless jokes and edgelord humor. When I re-examined this, I absolutely get why some viewers tuned out whenever any form of narration came up, since it didn’t do much of anything to push things along from a storytelling standpoint like Faces of Death did. I would have done the same thing as well, and it almost felt unnessary with how sparse it was in general because in the scenes where some form of backstory could have helped make sense of what was going on, nothing happened. It’s nothing particularly special, so whether or not you choose to press mute is up to you since you won’t be missing much if you don’t really care for such pressing matters. ________________________________________ So, what’s there left to say about Traces of Death, at least as far as the first one goes?

Well, I feel like I need to give credit where it’s due in that it was one of the earliest entries in the shockumentary/mondo/exploitation genre to do what it set out to accomplish fairly well. It’s bite was as strong as it’s bark when it came to wanting to stand out in a sea of death and destruction in an era full of pretenders and cash-ins, which this technically is, no doubt. I’m also thoroughly impressed by what it was able to do for an actual shoestring budget that likely helped to pave the way for Banned! from Television and mixtapes like Fist Pig and MDPOPE for being a bizarre collection of violence, sadism, and hardcore NSFW material that could only be found in the grimiest corners of the web or someone’s crawlspace. It’s an impressive collection, I’ll give it that much.

But, when you strip all that away and you take it all at face value, does it hold up? Ehh...sort of, at least to me.

The quality isn’t too great in some areas, but given that this had next to no budget, I shouldn’t expect miracles with scans and film stock transfers. When it comes to being held to the ranks of it’s elder siblings, I feel that it showed what it can do and that it has the staying power that it has. If it didn’t, I don’t think it would have had earned the same amount of controversy it did over the years, going as far as to get banned from Australian Customs and being rejected by the BBFC in 2005 where it still sits today in March 2020 alongside other films like Mikey, Silent Night, Deadly Night 2, Hate Crime, Murder-Set-Pieces, and Bumfights to name a few.

If you’re new to death related media, this one might be a tough pill to swallow, and all the more jarring and annoying with the narration. If you choose to embark on this one, you won’t really be missing much at all if you choose to mute it and add your own music and go off the Wikipedia descriptions to keep up with what’s going on. However, if death related media is your cup of tea and you think this is a total waste of time, then you also won’t be missing much of anything either. I’m pretty sure the vast majority of these sequences can be found online if you look hard enough, even if it means cycling through other shockumentaries and mondo films that this sampled from or sample from this.

At the end of the day, it’s almost all the same, right?

RATING: 4.9/10

[trustonlylokiposts-blog]

Diagnosis: Chapter 2

Stark Tower and Nailing an Interview: chapter two.

 I said my goodbyes to Koda and summoned an Uber, they smelled better than Taxis and I wanted to impress my interviewer. My long brown hair was pulled back into a neat pony tail, I wore a black blouse and a black pencil skirt, a green silk shawl, a modest silver necklace. I opened my phone and checked my messages, a few friends from the clinic I used to work at had all spammed me with questions, apparently I should have elaborated on where I was going to interview, and who I was going to work for. And who I was going to be my patient, or patients. I was excited

Trust me, I’ve never felt this excited before. I mean, practicing medicine for the Avengers, that’s insane.

I also had a few concerned texts from my mom after I had told her what happened the night before. Coming from a small town in Utah meant that we never had to worry about cat calling, potential rapists. I reassured her I was fine, and that Koda does a fantastic job of keeping me safe. As we neared the tower the driver broke the silence, “Stark Industries? What kind of secretary are you going to be?” I snorted, “Actually I a medical doctor. I am applying to be the Avengers on staff physician.” After a moment of really awkward silence, “Oh, my apologies doctor..” We pulled into the entrance and I stepped out, waving goodbye and rating him at a salty 5 stars. I stepped inside and walked to the front desk and cleared my throat, a women with a tight platinum blonde bun looked up at me. She plastered a fake smile and asked how she could help me. I explained that I was here for an interview for The Avengers physician. I let her scan my ID and take my picture which she printed off and put inside a little clip labeled “visitor”

I made my way to an elevator and followed the directions on which floor to head to, as the elevator made it’s way up the tower I began to feel slightly nervous, this kind of job sounded amazing, what if a more competent physician applied? I knew I was brilliant and was known as a prodigy, (not to toot my own horn) But for an opportunity like this, there had to be all kinds of amazing doctors applying. The elevator opened and I stepped out, woah. I was greeted to something I would expect in a high end Penthouse. A large open room with tall windows that boasted an excellent New York view, near the windows were several luxurious couches and loves seats, to my left was a bar that had more high-end liquor than the entire state of Utah could ever allow in a single building. “Ah, look at that our young doctor appears!” I was fairly surprised to see that it was Tony Stark who greeted me, I stepped forward and shook his hand with a warm smile, “My name is Doctor Julie Stirling, it is my absolute pleasure to meet you, thank you for this incredible opportunity.” Stark grinned at me and lead me to the bar and pulled out a stool for me then sat down and gestured for me to follow suit, which I did while trying my best to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. “Can I offer you a drink? Water, tea, coffee, I wouldn’t recommend alcohol this early, but you do you.” I chuckled and declined his offer as I pulled out of resume, cover letter, and a list of my references and their recommendations and admirations. Tony skimmed through the information I handed him and let out a low whistle. “29 years old and already such an incredible physician, young, brilliant, capable, a genius among men! You remind me of myself” Stark added with a chuckle, “I did hear that you abruptly left  your previous job while cursing your employer out. Care to elaborate on that?” I bit my lip and felt embarrassment rise through me, “I.. It’s not like me sir, he is a very disrespectful man and I had enough. I knew my skills and knowledge were going to waste and I couldn’t stand being belittled anymore. Trust me when I say I am very professional and my bedside manner is excellent I-“ Tony cut me off with a wave of his hand, “Trust me I know about Doctor Wallis, that creepy old man has brought nothing but complaints from the people I’ve asked. Plus hey, I need something with the backbone to stand up for themselves. You’ll be working with some thick headed assholes, myself included. I need to know you wont be pushed around when it’s unnecessary.”

Tony looked through my resume once more and added “You are young, and you don’t have as much experience under your belt as the other applicants but.. That might actually prove useful. I need a fresh mind, something who is willing to take a step into medicine that may be more complicated than what other doctors have studied and worked with. And reading about your incredible track record of absolutely blowing away the universities you studied under I am certain that you learn quickly, and you’re fast on your feet too.” We talked for a little longer, Tony explaining how things generally worked around the tower, “Most of your responsibilities are focused on the Avengers, however if needed I will have you tend to Stark employees as well. However they all have their own doctor they see when necessary. I guess you’re just a backup when needed. But I don’t think it would come to that, plus you will have enough on your plate anyway. With keeping up with the team and building your understanding of erm.. Otherworldly beings,  Dr. Banner is also adapt in medicine and is incredible and will work along side you when it comes to finding things that can keep up with different physiologies and metabolisms.” Tony stood and motioned for me to follow, “I like you kid, come with me, I’m thinking I want to hire you. But I need you to meet someone first. He has been so gracious as to agree and let us heal him. He allows us the possibility to understand Asgardians and well.. He has no choice to be here and isn’t quite healthy enough to do much about it anyway.” I followed Stark through a set of doors and was led down a hallway and through another set of doors, I raised an eyebrow when I noticed what looked like two SHEILD agents guarding the entrance. Stark breezed past them and opened the doors and walked in, I followed closely but halted when I noticed a hospital bed, connected to a few IV’S and a heart monitor was the one and only Loki. He was propped up on the bed reading a book. He was pale, way paler than he was when he was last seen on TV. His hair was an absolute mess and while he seemed tired he also gave off the vibe that he was still not to be messed with. Stark cleared his throat and introduced me, “hey Prince of Jokes, we have someone who might possibly be tending to you. Say hello!” Loki looked at me and I felt myself tense, How in the actual hell am I suppose to take care of him?

“Hello, worry not mortal, I am under very direct orders not to cause chaos, else I am thrown back into my cells on Asgard which would not be pleasant due to my current condition. It appears that aiding Thor in stopping the Dark Elves from destroying everything and consequently being stabbed by a kursed blade only earns me a break from my imprisonment on Asgard, to one here. To be a test subject for idiot Midgardians to use their barbaric technology to learn how to heal their precious Avengers.”

Tony rolled his eyes and said “Don’t worry, Thor was able to get some direction to help heal him, under these special circumstances it would be difficult to keep him from dying without a little Asgardian aid, they have provided strong drugs to give his body the energy and… Cider?” “Seidr” Loki cut in, “Seidr, anyway, that is some of what we have running through his veins right now. His body heals at an incredible rate but what went through him on that strange elf planet puts up a lot of fight. Combining drugs that keep his energy from draining we can allow him to do most of the healing on his own. What you will be doing is keeping a stable eye on his vitals and pain. We do have very potent pain killers for when he needs them. Trust me you’ll know. You think he’s a prick now? Wait until his ouchie is hurting, he’ll bitch at you until you either decide to give him the precious drug or kill him.” Loki rolled his eyes, “I would hardly call it bitching, if you even could fathom the amount of pain I am forced to endure while under the mockery of mortals you would be irritable as well.”

I looked Loki over then looked back to Tony, “I think I can handle him, at least as long as he continues to be relatively harmless.” Loki sneered but said nothing, Tony clapped his hands together. “Yes! Okay, I am going to offer you this job. For the foreseeable future Loki is your main concern. Keeping his pain under control, his healing on track and making sure his bandages are changed and infection is avoided. He may be ‘godly’ but he still is vulnerable at the moment.” That earned an insulted scoff from Loki that Tony promptly ignored, “Thor was told that Loki’s estimated healing time should be a month if everything goes smoothly. After Loki is healed we will go from there. Oh, because you are our on sight physician I have provided a modest apartment here at the tower. Your home will be located on the same floor as the handful of Avengers who live here. Thor is off and on when it comes to being here on earth, but you’ll get to know Natasha Rominoff, Clint, Bruce, Steve, and of course myself.”  

Over the next couple hours I was given a thick stack of nondisclosure forms, another thick stack of pretty much everything that Tony and I had discussed before, a bunch of notes on dealing with Asgardians, more specifically wounded Loki, an in-depth description of my salary, paid time off, and work related perks. I was given a set of keys and taken down to what was called “Avenger’s floor” I walked to the end of the hall with one of Stark’s employees, she was a bubbly redhead who seemed super pumped to be here at all times. “Here is your home!” She opened the door and waited for me to enter before following me. “You have two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a full bathroom with the master bedroom, and a half bathroom in the hallway.” Alex, as she had liked to be called stood in the center of the large room. To my right the apartment dipped down slightly into what would easily be a modest living room, tall windows that made me feel a little light-headed reminded me of how high up I was. Although you really did get a killer view from up here, and there were massive grey curtains that I could pull over if I needed to. To my left was a large dining and kitchen area, it was also very open, it already had a dining table that could gracefully seat six people. Behind the table was a rather cozy kitchen, I didn’t need anything fancy, in fact this really was more than I was expecting. Alex let me take it all in before leading me down the hall, the first door on the right she opened and gestured for me to follow. “This is the guest bedroom but could easily be a study, or anything you want really.” The room wasn’t small, but not overly huge either. I didn’t expect to have many guests so a study would be really nice. Alex made her way out of the room and guided me to the next door, “and here we will have the master bedroom.” I stepped in behind her and looked around. This room had to be about half the size of my old apartment. It had a nice window that let in sunlight and fresh air without making me feel like I was going to fall to my death. I walked to the end of the room and opened a door to find a master closet, “Huh, don’t think I have enough clothes to come even close to fitting in here.” I laughed to myself but Alex tilted her head, “aren’t doctors supposed to be rich?” I really laughed this time, “yeah, but not starting out. I’m in debt up to my eyeballs. My last apartment was pretty much a cement box.” My preppy tour guide shrugged and opened the door to reveal my bathroom. A freaking Jacuzzi tub sat at the far end of the room under a beautifully arched window, gorgeous white curtains were tucked back. I took in the sight, a large walk in shower, a complicated looking toilet.. A Bedit?  And a marble sink blew me away.

Alex left me to explore the rest of the apartment on my own, there was really only the guest bathroom left anyway, and while it was a nice bathroom, it’s just a bathroom. Tony had given me a week to get myself moved and settled in, then it would be time to work. I was actually pretty proud of myself for convincing Tony to allow me to keep Koda, (it was less “convincing” and more me telling him that I am a package deal and Koda comes with me.) I had to show him every ribbon she’s earned, ever certificate and proof of vaccines. But he agreed and I was excited to bring Koda on this new adventure with me.

[honestsycrets]

Irreplaceable IV: Not Anymore

A/N: Le eyeroll. Gif to goodatgoodbyes.

The boys, on either side of their father, have nerves on edge. Their ships land coast side when the round moon barely kisses its light across the land. They are met by another landing party’s campground but those there were not entirely unfamiliar. Their tongue have a familiar twang, slackening the boy’s shoulders from their strain instantaneously.

“Is it Sverri?” Hvitserk asks breaching the measly gates of the anomalous site. Sverri’s normal campsite raised the forest green flags of Yggradsil while these flags were darker in shade. The grey raised flags bore three interlocked triangles– the Valknut. It could not have been Sverri’s camp for those reasons. Besides, he is sure that Sverri made himself well in his home with you and your body. The seer told him so.

“No doubt it is Faksi who has come.” Ivar scoffs.

“Grandfather?” Veifnr chirps and skips ahead, darting within despite Ivar’s bellow out to him to come back.

Uxi shouts, “Brother WAIT!” as he darts after his younger brother. The two swerve ahead stopping as their grandfather and a man they somewhat recognize chat idly over a pitcher of mead and a conversation of battle stratagem. They look out in the dark of the night toward a dark catapult. Ivar’s walls guarding Kattegat have fallen at long last.

“HAHA! Those are my boys! Veifnr! Uxi!” The boom of their grandfather’s voice spills out of the tent where the men spoke. Faksi was a broad built man, sporting a beard as white as spun thread and hair that had turned just the same. His hair waves in tightly knit braids on his head. The boys ran forward, clustering about his legs like ashy pups.

“Hello boys, I am King Sverri.” The man lowers to their eye level, looking between the two. His voice caramelizes with deep admiration. The boys give jarred smiles glancing between one another to him. They had met many kings. It was not the first time they met Sverri either, what with the mess he made between Kitta and you. But individually they had not talked much to him. Often they would play on their own or be sent off by any of their parents.

“I remember you.” Says Uxi folding his arms with a flat lipped expression.

Veifnr moves closer. “Hi.”

The King gives a wide shark like grin. Uxi’s words bear the threat of an impending cruel statement lurking behind them. Rather than engage Uxi he decides to speak to Veifnr, the quiet one.

“You must be Veifnr, because your mother said Uxi would be the more critical one.” He shakes his ringed finger at Uxi, his armband jiggling on his arm.

“You’ve seen mother? Is she alive?” Uxi turns with a wet gleam in his eyes. Tears that Veifnr doesn’t pay any mind to. Instead he is eager with excitement to find his mother and bring her back to their family. Somehow, he misses the fact that Sverri is the one who took their home.

As the flaps waver again, Ivar came in. The King however hardly spared him a glance. His eyes are stolen by stars in young Veifnr’s eyes. He could tell how much the young man adored his mother.

“Yes.” He assures the young boys. “I’ve kept her safe. Would you like to come see her for a late dinner?” The King invites and while Faksi grins in agreement, Ivar lurches forward. His hand sets on Veifnr’s shoulder, pushing him behind Hvitserk. Veifnr flops onto the ground with a thud and a pained grunt.

“Why would I let my sons go with you? Bring her here.” Ivar spits out in a voice lacking amusement. It could have been strategic. Whom knew what was lying in wait for them in Kattegat? If it were here, he could control whom came in and whom came out.

“I knew you would say that. Very well, let us call her. Avarr! ” He shakes his head. A messenger peeps in past Uxi who moved not to Ivar but to stand by his grandfather.

“Yes, my king?” The messenger stands upright.

Without wavering his eyes from Ivar, he addresses the messenger. “Have my Queen and her thralls set for dinner. Her husband is home.” He says. The young messenger sputters something akin to a yes, though it was strained when Ivar’s snaps his face towards him.

“Your Queen?” Ivar asks the messenger, finding that all the man could do was to nod. The messenger quickly makes himself scarce.

The King stood with no small amount of pleasure filling his heart, taking a step forward into Ivar’s personal space. His beard prickled Ivar’s clean cut face. The young king didn’t just enjoy the way that Ivar looked at him. He enjoyed the way Ivar squirms with every notion of affection given to you by his lips.

“Yes.” He gives a ragged but pleased breath in the words he says. “My Queen.”

Ivar’s glare promises not only heat but retribution. He stalks closer, scrunching his nose in distaste for this man– this king, calling his wife his own queen. After killing his Kitta whose remains were probably deep in the ocean by now if he gave her a proper funeral.

Rather than engage the fallen king, Sverri pivots on his heel past Ivar when he stops. A sharp exhale flits from his lips, audibly so. “Did I miss something?” Your voice refreshes the tone of a room full of men. When Ivar turned on his crutch to glance at what he is looking at, his eyes are stricken by sight of you.

A finely knit gown, tailored tight to your curves with the aid of a sole cincher. The furs that bundled around your neck, tickling your ears that were clipped by dangling jewels. It reminded him so strongly of his mother, his eyes could not tear away from your bodice. Not to look at the finely tuned braids that bundled into a sole larger one– or meet your soul striking kohl lined eyes.

“Mother!” Uxi barrels through first followed by Veifner who rams himself into the delicate sides of your dress. You laugh, winding your arms around both boys tightly. You lift them off the ground although be it so slightly and twist around in circles.

“My precious boys!” You whirl around, laughing almost too excitedly for a woman that has seen her sister-wife burned by the very man standing in front of him. When you finally stop, you glance between the younger kings in the room. Both boys are set on the floor and remain nestled against your skirts. You move to unclip your furs and hand them off to a thrall beside Sverri.

“Husband.” You address Ivar without regard for how he sailed in a hurry back for Kattegat. He knows what you are thinking. That this trip was intended only for Kattegat. Perhaps a large part of it was. You look at him as if he is nothing. As if he was amber in comparison to garnet.

“Father!” You push past Ivar to wind your arm through the tight one of your father’s firm biceps. Faksi wears a sheepish smile.

“How have you been, has this man treated you well?” Your father sets his hand atop of yours, moving out of the room with the boys locked on your skirts like worms on a leaf.

“Oh perfectly fine. Ivar has always been good to me. And Sverri behaved. ” You lie.

“He better have.” Faksi says. The conversation becomes more and more distant with the tail of your skirts draping across the ground. Then you were gone. You ran him over and left and of course you would. Perhaps he deserves as much for neglecting you so many of the days that Kitta claimed to be in need of him.

At dinner, you finally relinquish hold of your father to join Ivar’s side. He notices your affection slowly returning to him. Your hand finds its place on his thigh. Shyly though– as if you were cautious of something. King Sverri is talking, glorifying you for being such a good wife.

“I wanted to take her myself, but she is stubborn.” Sverri says. You spare him a slight mused smile, pulling your hands back to your lap in slight thought of the kiss you shared with him. Ivar didn’t know about that. If he had– he would have blown his shit then and there.

“She knows who her real husband is.” He says. “Tell me the real reason you invaded my land. It was not just to take my beautiful wives. You burned my Kitta.” Ivar’s words prick your ear disdainfully. His Kitta, his poor, poor Kitta. Your drank to the thought bitterly, almost sure that he came for his revenge. Yes, you were remourseful for what happened. But… after so many years of being second to her, you grow sick of hearing his affection for his burned queen.

“But it is. You blocked me from her. I want more of her kisses and so much more. Kitta was a disturbance to her. It is why she had to go.” Sverri says. You drop your utensil from your fingers when Ivar’s head snaps to look at you.

Ivar turns in his chair to you. “More?”

“He means the kiss I gave him before you banished him.” You cover, lying directly to his face. Lucky for you, he seems to buy such words this time. He turns back to Sverri, squeezing his nose tight.

“If you wanted my woman, the fight was with me.” Ivar hisses.

Sverri loses his smile. “Now that I’ve taken care of the source of her anguish it is.”

Kitta could be pleasant. She truly loved your boys, even if she was jealous of their genetic make up, and would watch them. The issue in fact lied when you were about to give birth.

“Why can’t you stay with me? She always has you. It is my night.” She complained with a high pitch as Ivar set the blanket around the swell of your stomach. His eyes were almost caught in his eyelids with the amount of rolling he was doing today, while you lowered your eyes down to the threads of your bedding waiting the birth of your second son.

“(Y/N) is going to give birth soon. I would drop anything for my family. Even you, if you must push the choice on me.” He replied coldly. He dropped on his ass beside you. Your heart raced a million miles at a time, stricken by the claims that your husband made. Kitta stomped out of the door.

“Please don’t pin this on me.” You address Sverri, glancing off to the side.

“My apologies, my queen. On top of your wife, I also want an increase in land. If this is an alliance, we should share equally. Otherwise, no agreements may be met.” The King Sverri says. Your eyes drift across the table of goods across to your father. He raises his eyebrows, jerking the corner of his lips down as if to say ‘too late for that.’ If King Sverri wanted peace– it was too late for that. You plead your father to hush with your eyes.

“First my wife, now my lands. What else? Do you want my sons too?” Ivar says, stretching his arm behind your head. Ivar’s fingers tickle your earrings as if to mock Sverri, drawing his fingers down your jaw as if presenting a rare gift.

“Surely you understand that we, as a people, should advocate for peace.” He insists.

“You have a peculiar way of showing advocacy by burning my wife. You’re not taking her. I know how long you’ve been after her.” Ivar sneers at the man, flicking his fingers in disregard for his words. The subsequent words are a bit distant to him, eyes caught up with the angle of your jaw. You flinch when Ivar’s thick fingers slide down over your jaw, stroking across your throat.

“Why did you think I would not come for you?” Ivar pulls you in, hand tight on your throat. Despite the stare of Sverri, Ivar’s dry lips tease your dangling earrings. “You belong to me.”

At a flinch of head back, you brave the words that had been on your tongue for years. “No, I belong to no one anymore.”

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @MsLothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @ateliefloresdaprimavera, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @ilovemyangelforever, @directionlessbuthappy, @hizz-hizz-mothertruckerz, @some-blondes-unicorn, @cbouvier23, @l-e-a-t-h-e-r--n--l-a-c-e, @atequila, @rekdreams247, @ivarswonderlust, @writingeverynowand-then, @hp-hogwartsexpress, @minarawr, @haliannej, @strangunddurm, @cbouvier23, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @Equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @the-geeky-engineer, @Huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @mitchiri-nek0, @dakotacheyennee, @seize-the-droid, @Certifiedpoison, @hotshotstar, @a-writers-dreams, @quaint-and-curious-being @mitchiri-nek0, @dakotacheyennee, @salimahbicharara-comun, @ilovemyangelforever, @kickbacksnextdoor

[xerxixez]

Chapter 10

Several hours had passed. Sara was not sure how long it had been. But dinner was almost complete. The pig that was slaughtered last month was further depleted than she had intially thought. There was but one ham left. She had to have Nathan slaughter the turkey instead of the chickens as to make up for the lack of pork. Luckily they had caught two wild turkeys the day after they had returned with the injured man, and had  clipped their wings and put them in the coup with the chickens.   If it wasnt for the turkey he would have had to kill a third chicken, but he had returned with the ham before slaughtering the fouls and Sara had instructed him to slaughter the turkey instead. She had made mashed potatoes, with diced sauteed onions mixed in. Gravy for the potatoes, and a salad to go with the turkey and ham she prepared. It wasnt anything fancy but it was what she could muster up in such a short time. The Injured man had awoken several times throughout the day but Nathan used his abilities to coax the man back to sleep. Currently he was wakeing up and seemed less groggy. Nathan was helping him wake up with some mundane concoction he made from some tealeaves and roots. Sara had told him that the next he was to awaken to let him wake up some for dinner. She wanted him to be awake enough to answer any questions Pops allowed her to ask. She couldnt remember the last time anyone was over for dinner. The first month they had arrived at her grandfathers a man from the capital had come out to investigate where Sara and her brothers had gone off to. He had not known that they were at there grandfathers, but instead thought he might know where they had gone. To his surprise they were there. He stayed for dinner and left the next day. Sara supposed that was probably the last time anyone was at the house other than the four of them. As Sara was removeing the turkey from the spit Nathan looked at her "Pops is almost here, i can hear him, he will be here in about a minute." Even after all this time she still was amazed at her brothers ability to hear things from so far off. But at times it seemed as though he couldnt hear anything. She supposed he could turn it on and off as he wished. Like she could with her elemental abilities. Zack walked threw the door almost exactly a minute later. With him was a short burly man.He was bout two full heads shorter than Zack, but looked to be as strong as an ox. His huge arms were as big around as Sara's legs and he carried a large two handed war hammer on his back along with a pack.The man, if it even was a man, wore simple leather armor with metal plates attached in locations that looked strategicly placed. Some of the metal plates looked to be damaged from spear points hitting it hard but not penetrateing through. On the plates and in the leather that wasnt covered were symbols that she could not understand. The short man looked around the room with an intense yet, happy look. "Something smells amazeing!" He announced "I brought ale for those with the stomach." He turned around and grabbed a barrel half his size with ease and threw it over his shoulder. "Where would u like me to place it old man" He asked looking at Zack. "Just over there in the corner we will get to it after the food." Zack looked genuinly happy and in good spirit. "Sara my dear, our friend here Dvärg," he said poiting at the burly man "is utterly correct it does smell amazeing in here. Thank you for seeing to my request I gave Nathan before I left. I apologize for the sudden departure earlier today but i was in a hurry and needed to make it North fast." Sara just nodded and set the table for six. The table was barely large enough to fit the six of them much less the food so she opted to leave the food on the counter to save space at the table. She began to prep the plates with food. As everyone made there way to the table Dvärg set the barrel in the corner and produced a wooden mug from his pack filling it with ale and made his way to the table. Zack was helping the soldier to the table. He seemed to be moveing alot easier than Sara had expected. Apparently her grandfathers healing abilities were not exagerated. All the plates were piled with food and divided around the table to all six people, and finally Sara could sit down here self and rest. She was famished and could not wait to eat, but her manners would not allow her to do so until everyone else had begun to eat and she was certain that no one else needed anything. As she was dividing the plates Nathan had decided to get beverage for everyone that did not have drink. "So as you may already have figured out this here is Dvärg" Zack waved his hand nonchalantly at Dvärg, "He is a Dwarf of the Kalidar mountains to the north," Zack layed his hand on the dwarfs shoulder, "he is a great friend, and a fearless ally in battle." Dvärg stood and took a bow. Sitting back down with a smile he added "But not as fearless as the old man here, I know personaly his abilities in battle, and am only alive due to his prowess in war!" "A dwarf?" questioned Sara. "Dwarves are not real. There just made up stories to keep children entertained. You dont honestly expect us to believe this Dvärg is from a mythical race of people that do not exist. Do you?" Dvärg  stopped with his mug halfway to his lips, sighed, and set his mug back down. "Little miss, if i am not real then how do i sit infront of you now?" Sara rolled her eyes "I did not say you were not real i said you are not a Dwarf. Sure you look different than most people i have seen but that does not make you a person of a mythological race." Looking at Zack and then to Nick, Dvärg gestured "Is this him? The strong one? He looks to be stout." Nodding Zack commented "Stronger than most dwarves ive ever met maybe even stronger than Dvärg the Blacksmith." With a smurk that was somewhat comforting Dvärg looked at Nick "So would u like to put your Strength to the test? I belive if i could prove my strength here and now little miss there" pointing at Sara " might belive what i am saying. For no human alive could match the strength of a dwarf. If im not mistaken that is the belief of you humans, am i wrong?" Knowing that there was no way this man nor another was able to surpass her brothers strength Sara felt confident that this Dvärg  was getting himself into more than he could handle just gave a knowing smile. "How about it Nick? An arm wrestle? A tug-o-war? Would u be willing to test Dvärg's strength to your own?" Zack questioned looking nathan right in the eyes with a smurk on his face. Nick simply stood up removed everything from the table that his grandfather and brother had used to hold the bandages and medicines next to the soldiers bed, and set it next to Dvärg and placeing his chair at the small table. Nathan put his elbow on the surface of the table and opened his hand showing that he was willing to test this so called dwarves strength. "Dont hold back my boy. Dvärg can handle his own. If you do he will not and u will sorely regrett it. Understood?" Zack said with a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice. Smileing Dvärg  swung around backwards on his chair and classped hands with Nick. As soon as there hands met Nick could feel the strength in the dwarfs grip. Eyes widening and a smirk on his face Nick prepared for what he was now sure would be the best test of his abilities for as long as he could remember. Dvärg counted to three in the language of his people "Ett, Två, Tre." As Dvärg said the final word both mens muscles tensed and the battle had begone. It was a deadlock. Neither Nick nor Dvärg were gaining ground. Small movements from side to side as one or the other gave sudden bursts of strenght is all that could be seen. Sara could not believe this man was holding Nick and giveing him a run for his strength. Sweat began to bead on the heads of the two men as the stuggle continued on, hitting one minute in deadlock then two. "Nick u got this theres no way you can let him win" Nathan gasped with such amazement that he could barely get the words out. Dvärg resituated his legs slightly and with a groan and started to slowly overpower Nicks ability to hold his arm up upright. The force being applied to the table was so emence that cracks started to form under there elbows. As Nicks arm came to a fourty-five degree angle he stretched his fingers one at a time untill his hand was fully open. With a sudden burst of strenght that would have shattered any other mans arm Nick put his all into the one on one battle he was fighting. Closeing his hand he strained like he had never had to before and pushed back against the dwarves onslaught. Slowly he pushed back reaching the apex of the arc and continueing on till Dvärg's hand was but a mere inch from the table. There they sat for what seemed like an hour but was truly but a few seconds when Dvärg could no longer hold it and lost his will to fight on. The force released from Nick's counter push was so strong the table splintered into a heap of wood as the back of  Dvärg's hand smacked the table. Panting and sweating profusely Nick looked up at the dwarf with such amazement. Never in his wildest dreams did he believe another man could hold his own as this one had in a test of strength against him. Nick had won but it was the hardest faught battle of strength he had ever been in. Sara could not believe her eyes. There is no way a normal human could have done that. The amount of force that was excerted onto that table was so emince that she could feel the thump in her chest as the air rushed out from under the back of Dvärg's had as it smacked the table. In astonishment Dvärg stood up panting and covered in sweat. He looked at Zack then back to Nick "The old man was right. You do have the Gudastyrka. I did not believe that was possible in a human." Confused, everyone includeing the soldier who was just starting to come out of his daze, looked at Dvärg. Everyone but Zack who knew what he was talking about.

[esandcasg]

Chapter Seven – Storm Shadow

The light had begun to fade. Looking back along the ridgeline, I couldn’t see the green of the valley floor any more. Silhouettes of the Pakistani Hills stood like night sentinels in the burning glow of the evening sun.

I stood for a moment, admiring the beauty of the landscape in the fading light, tracing the top of the ridgeline back to where Adam and I waited. Normally, we’d have pitched camp by now, one of us hacking out a level slope in the ice, another melting buckets of snow, and the third probably off down the shops to get a few beers in. But there would be no camp this evening, despite my having brought a collection of Up Pompeii! DVDs. Somewhere ahead of us, further along the Gasherbrum Traverse, was Ifan. In the fury of the onslaught dramatically brought to life in the last chapter, Ifan had become separated from the two of us. There was only one way he could have gone: onward.

We knew we couldn’t wait much longer; just enough time to finish the tea and canapés I’d rustled up. We would need every last gram of strength for what was to come.

I hoisted my 450lb backpack over my shoulders and raised my head to the north. Ahead of us ran the rest of the Gasherbrum ridge, passing over seven more peaks including the four main summits, Gasherbrums I, II, III & IV, as well as Broad Peak. The serious climbing was yet to come. Normally, even in the dying of the light I would have seen the shadows of these mighty summits cast flush across the Godwin Antwi Glacier. But there was only one shadow, and it covered all.

Boiling over the top of the last peak on the ridgeline, dark grey and flashing from deep within, was the biggest storm cloud I had ever seen on the mountains. It moved like an avalanche; from this distance it looked as if it rolled slowly, even lazily forward, gradually enveloping each inch of the mountains until they were prisoners inside the storm. I couldn’t imagine what conditions were like inside. And I didn’t want to find out.

But there was no turning back. Ifan had gone ahead over part of the ridgeline that involved technical downclimbing. It would have been tricky enough with fixed ropes, but as prominent members of the new wave of mountaineers, Ifan and Adam had rejected the traditional siege tactics on the mountainside, as well as the more modern, but still well-established, Alpine Style of climbing, which eschewed large volumes of ropes, relying on short roping, belaying and occasionally fixing more technical pitches.

Instead, Adam and Ifan were firm believers in what they had termed ‘Detroit Style’ climbing. Not only did this style of climbing not involve fixed ropes, it also did away with ice axes and often gloves. Seen as the ultimate purist experience, they believed it meant mountains were only climbed through fair means.

Unfortunately this also meant there was no way for Ifan to climb back the way he’d gone. In trying to find shelter from the bullets and the missiles which had come our way, he’d passed the point of no return and I don’t mean that metaphorically. There was no way back. I mean, technically I suppose there was, because we might have been able to drag him up somehow, but oh forget it. Let’s all just move on.

Adam and I knew we’d have to follow him down, but that that meant risking heading straight into a storm. I can’t remember properly, but I’m pretty sure that despite all the crazy stuff that happened in Vertical Summit, we didn’t actually have any real chunk of the story set during a proper storm apart from some stuff about eating an owl in a cave, which means there is scope for some originality here, which is a boon for me.

I brushed the last crumbs from my Peter Storm jacket and turned to look at Adam. I could see by the look in his eyes and the fact he kept looking at his watch, tutting and scowling at me, that he was ready.

“Shall we?” I said.

Adam placed a bullet in the chamber of his rifle and slammed the bolt home. “Let’s do this,” he replied.

We started slowly down the slope. The first few metres were on a gradual decline, easy going were it not for the sheer drop on either side. An eerie silence accompanied us as we walked forwards. I was nervous. Despite the need to concentrate on my footing, I couldn’t help looking up repeatedly to see how far the storm was from us. We needed desperately to find Ifan before it hit and we would be caught in a whiteout. We’d all been in severe conditions before, but never whilst climbing to this standard on a ridge unknown to any of us.

After a few hundred metres we came to a sheer drop. We both looked down to see if there were any traces of Ifan, but visibility was already dropping, and neither of us could see to the bottom of the cliff. Wordlessly, Adam signalled to me that he would go first by pointing to me, pointing downwards, shaking his head and running his finger across his throat. I watched as he edged over, headfirst in his inimitable style, hands slowly feeling his way downwards. Finally as his boots slipped over the lip of the cliff, thankfully still on his feet, I began to follow in a more orthodox manner; feet first and facing the cliff, kicking in to the ice with my crampons, holding an ice axe in one hand with the other behind my back just to make it that little bit more tricky.

I climbed for what seemed hours, but was only three hours. I knew that my progress was slow. Every kick, every placement of the axe I repeated two or three times to be sure. The cliff, and the ridge above it, was only a couple of metres wide. One wrong move, one insecure placement of a foot or a hand, would result in certain death or, at the very least, annoy Adam. I knew that he was probably waiting at the bottom of the cliff now, but I felt unable to move any faster than I was. Each step took a lifetime. I had always climbed with caution, knowing full well the risks involved in mountaineering. But this wasn’t just caution.

This was fear.

Pure, naked, unabashed fear. It had gripped me completely. I tried to keep moving, fighting the paralysis, but before long I had stopped. There was a cold stillness in the air. I looked nervously to each side, not daring to turn my head more than a few inches. All I could see was a wall of grey. It almost seemed calm. It was the deep breath before the plunge, a phrase which I definitely didn’t steal from the third Lord of the Rings film. I grasped in my backpack and pulled out my woolly hat, pulling it down close over my ears.

I gritted my teeth and pushed on. Slowly, with each step, I kept going, setting small goals for myself to keep momentum. One more kick. One more swing. Finish this latte. Wipe your snotty nose on the sleeve of your jacket. Scratch your arse. Another kick. Then, so clear it made me jump, I heard Adam’s voice close by.

“You’re not far now. Just a few more metres. I’ve fixed a rappel.”

It would have been easier to grab the rope Adam had fixed had I not jumped with fright, but thankfully as I flailed wildly my crampons raked against the piton from which Adam had tied the rappel. Steadying myself in an attempt to style it out, I clipped my figure of eight device into the rope and slowly let it feed through. My crampons scraped against the rock and ice. Even in this light I could see how treacherous this last section of the cliff was; just a thin layer of brittle water ice frozen against sheer granite. I couldn’t see any hand holds, and wondered how Ifan had got down this section without rope. There was nowhere for me to take the weight off the rope even the tiniest amount. I prayed that the piton would hold, trying to move downwards as smoothly as I could.

Finally I felt the snow and ice underneath the tip of my crampons. I let the rope play out and found myself on solid ground. I had climbed the cliff.

“DOWN!”

It was Adam. I turned round, before I was flung backwards at incredible speed, slamming against the cliff face. My right hand still held the rope and I grabbed it as tight as I could, unable to stand straight. Moving my head a little I could see Adam spread-eagled on the ground.

The storm had hit.

I couldn’t look directly into it; the wind was too strong. With my free left hand I pulled the cord on my hood, reducing the hole to a small slit around my eyes. All I could see was a mixture of black and white, like static, or a Michael Jackson video. I groped blindly, hoping not to expose myself to a sexual harassment case, and found the switch to my headtorch.

Despite the powerful 190 lumen light, all I could see was a maelstrom of movement. Snow pelted me, swirling around, changing directions. The sky was almost purple in colour. Peals of lightning illuminated the mountains at random intervals. The sound was pure fury. It was if the world had gone mad.

Adam had moved. I could see him crawling forwards, hugging the ground. It was the only way to move. I slid down, letting go of the rope at the last possible moment, then lay down on my front. I raised my right hand slowly, then slammed the ice axe into the ground ahead of me. My left hand did the same with my second axe. Then I hauled myself forward. Right axe in. Left axe in. Haul. My ice axes went deep into the snow. I could see it piling up ahead of my eyes. Visibility was almost zero. I tried to keep up with Adam, but I couldn’t go any faster. Finally I saw his boots slip out of sight.

All I could see was the snow against the darkness. All I could hear and feel was the lash of the wind. I could barely see the ridge I was on. I was dreadfully exposed. Fighting down panic, I tried to raise myself up to a crouched position, keeping my hands firmly on the handles of the axes which were still anchored beneath me. I could still see nothing.

“ADAM!”

There was no reply. It would have been impossible for him to hear; I could barely hear my own voice. I shouted again, then began to inch forward, hoping and praying I was going in the right direction. There was a booming sound close by; flashes of lightning all around. I stopped and crouched again, waiting for something. I couldn’t see anything. Just the light and the dark.

Suddenly I was pushed backwards into the snow and ice. I hit the ridge hard, closing my eyes with the pain. I could feel something on top of me.

Then I heard a huge roar from the direction I had been going to. It filled the sky, an earsplitting sound which carved through the storm. I opened my eyes. Adam was lying on top of me. Somehow he’d wrenched my ice axes out of my hands and was using them to anchor both of us to the ridge. I tried to catch my breath. Another roar, further away. More lightning.

“WHAT IS IT?” I yelled.

Adam shook his head. “WE HAVE TO RUN.”

Deftly he tied a length of nylon cord to my harness, tied the other end to his own, and turned. Waiting for me to get back to a crouching position, he took off, sprinting away from me. I staggered forward blindly, running as fast as I could but I was out of control. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep up. He was too fast for me and would be until the inevitable recurrence of his longstanding knee injury.

I lost my footing. I could feel the ground sloping away from me and began to half-slide, half-tumble down the slope.  Instinctively I slammed in my ice axes but could feel myself being dragged by Adam’s momentum. I slide in slow motion, ice axes scraping a line in the slope. I knew I was pulling him off, and not in that way. There was only one thing I could do.

I pulled out my right ice axe and, deftly, swung it deliberately over my head. The rope cleaved neatly in two.

Immediately I slowed. The second ice axe held me for long enough to get the first into the snow, with my crampons kicked in for support. I stopped moving. Being on the slope had reduced the exposure to the storm but I could still feel it lashing against my back. Using all my unspecified years of experience I started to traverse across to my right, gaining altitude as I fought to get back to the ridge, back where Adam might be. Rocks tumbled down past me, occasionally whacking me square on the bonce. I felt like I wasn’t making any progress towards the ridge. The slope I was on was heavy with snow. Maybe it would be possible to build a snow cave here, to hack out some small amount of protection and wait the storm out?

Then, just above my head, there was a flash of lightning close by, lighting up the ridge. I scrambled straight upwards, wincing at the crash of thunder.

It was somehow brighter; visibility had improved. I could see a few hundred yards of the ridgeline before it was swallowed up by another bank of cloud. Not too far in front of me was a serac, jutting out from the ridge. Behind it crouched Adam. From this distance I could see he was hurt.

I closed the distance and crouched down next to him, gasping for breath.

“You okay?” We could speak normally now, in the short gasp before the second wave of the storm.

Adam shook his head. “Did my achilles tendon. Nothing major. Will clear up in a few minutes.”

I nodded. “The hell is going on?”

“I don’t know.” Adam looked up at the sky around us. Although we could see more than we could moments ago, we were still surrounded by cloud. Snow drifted lazily around us. “It’s not just a storm. There’s something else.”

“Okay,” I said, “so what are our options? If we keep going, we’re just exposed again, walking straight into another cloud bank.”

“If we run into anything technical we’re in trouble. And I can’t see that far ahead.”

“We could dig a cave into the slope below us. There’s a lot of snow.”

“Avalanche risk?”

I grimaced. “High, probably,” I said.

“We can’t go back the way we came,” said Adam. “We’d be trapped against the cliff.”

I finished off the sushi rolls that Adam had prepared and considered our situation. It was desperate. Whichever way we went would risk death. Even staying put would put us in harm’s way. There was no escaping the storm.

We’d have to keep moving.

“There’s no choice, is there?” I asked.

“No,” replied Adam, swinging his 560kg backpack over his shoulders and standing up. “Let’s see how far we can get before the next wave hits.”

I nodded. There was nothing for it. We’d have to keep going.

Once more, Adam went first, his long rangy strides reminiscent of a mountain gazelle leaping to avoid its prey. I ran forward after him, like a hippo that’s been startled by a firework. Ahead we could see the gradient increasing as the route passed through a number of large cliffs before veering dramatically upwards. If we could just get to the cliffs we might have enough shelter to wait out the worst of the storm.

We were ten metres away when the cloud swallowed us.

It was worse than before. A bolt of lightning struck the mountain behind us, dislodging huge chunks of granite and shaking the route so hard I fell to the ground. I struggled to my feet and fought against the hurricane-force winds. I could see Adam further ahead, holding on to the ridge with bare hands as a cornice tumbled away into the darkness beneath him. There was another booming roar. Lightning flashed again. And then we saw in the middle of the insanity, impervious to the wind, hovered a huge drone, armed with two missile launchers. It moved slowly and purposefully towards us. I tried to move forwards but could make no progress. Adam barely hung on to the rock. I looked upwards as the missiles twisted, turning slowly to face us both.

Then there was another flash of lightning. Something made me turn my head away from the drone, to face the route ahead of me. Flying through the air, his muscular frame rippling with intent, soared Ifan. His right arm swung round from behind his back and flung out an ice axe. It cut through the air in seconds, embedding itself squarely into the top of the drone.

The drone buckled, twisting through the air. Ifan landed on the ridge between myself and Adam. In the night sky I could see he was shirtless. From his right hand trailed a bungee cord which I could now see was attached to the ice axe he’d just thrown. With a flex of his bicep and a twitch of his arm he wrenched the ice axe backwards, swinging the drone in a wide arc until it detached, looping downwards through the darkness. With a burst of colour it exploded on a nearby peak, the resulting avalanche destroying a hydroelectric power plant which powered over four thousand homes, ruining their Christmas.

Lightning flashed again, illuminating Ifan’s muscular form. He caught the ice axe as it circled back to him. For a moment a look of triumph flashed across his face. Then he looked at me with grim determination. The battle was not over yet.