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tsarisfanfiction · 2 years ago

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#3 (Sing A Song of Seven)

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Gen Genre: Angst Characters: Michael Yew, Lee Fletcher, Apollo A series of Cabin Seven oneshots. This time: Funeral lament. This, apparently, is what happens when I listen to the same song on repeat, especially when one of the singers manages to completely evoke Michael when I hear him in it... (Omar Cardona, specifically his acapella singing alongside VoicePlay in The Dragonborn Comes, for the curious). It was only ever a matter of time before I started bringing some angst into this series... The song lyrics used in this are the only Ancient Greek lament I could find words to - Song of Seikilos. Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one! If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<#2

It was a song every child of Apollo knew, and the song they always hoped they would never have to perform. Cabin seven had duties, responsibilities that most of the time didn’t feel too heavy, but sometimes felt like the sky crushing them beneath its inescapable weight. Their job was to be the camp’s light, to perform and amaze, to heal, and often they loved it.

But sometimes it hurt.

Traditionally, it was the responsibility of the head counsellor. Lee had sung the lament for camp more than once – quests had dried up years ago, but there were still funerals, still new campers that didn’t make it despite the healers’ best efforts, and there was always at least one every year.

Lee was a musician, a flautist first and singer second but with a voice befitting a child of Apollo regardless.

Had been a musician.

Who was supposed to sing the lament when it was their head counsellor wrapped in a golden shroud?

Michael’s throat was tight, a lump lodged in it that had materialised at the sight of crimson-streaked dark blond and hadn’t abated since. Officially, they didn’t have a head counsellor right then, too soon to even think about naming a successor, but Lee had been prodding him since the start of the summer, reminding him that it was only another year until he was off to college, and Michael knew – the whole cabin knew, if not the camp – that he was next.

In the absence of an official head counsellor, the lament could fall to any of them – the one with the best voice, the one who could hold themselves together in the face of insurmountable grief long enough to perform. They all knew Joy fit the requirements the best, the best singer in the cabin, and she’d even stepped up during the preparations, gesturing to herself with a face of fragile determination – but her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and Michael knew he couldn’t say yes, couldn’t do that to her.

Traditionally, it was the responsibility of the head counsellor. Michael wasn’t the official leader just yet, and he had never taken the limelight at campfire singalongs, not the greatest fan of singing where he could be heard despite the fact that he, too, was a son of Apollo and had a voice to match, but his siblings were crushed enough by the sudden, brutal loss of Lee (and the other deaths, yes, but it was Lee in his mind, in their minds, the brother that had always been there and whose sudden absence seared like a the first echoes of a phantom limb). He couldn’t shy away from this, push the shattering, grief-ridden, responsibility on the cabin that was now his to lead, to protect.

The son of Hades led the proceedings, dressed all in black and too young, but they were all too young. Grieving head counsellors gave short words about their fallen siblings; Michael didn’t even know what he managed to say about Lee, before Pollux fell apart trying to talk about his slain twin and the shrouds were set to torch.

No eyes were on Michael as he stepped forwards, away from the security and comfort of his siblings and into the responsibility that was the head counsellor of cabin seven’s – his, now, and it felt wrong stepping onto the same patch of bare earth he’d watched Lee take so many times, and Emily before him, but also it was for Lee, and Michael would never forgive himself if he faltered now.

No-one ever looked at the singer at a funeral. All eyes were drawn to the flames, rising higher and higher as the pyres burned, watching the final moments of bodies whose souls were long gone to Hades’ realm.

Michael knew the song. He knew the words he’d hoped to never sing, and drew in a deep breath, feeling it waver, before the words began to spill out.

Hóson zêis, phaínou Mēdèn hólōs sỳ lypoû

His voice threatened to crack, the tell-tale feeling of a break starting in the back of his throat right where the lump held fast as tears welled, determined to overflow. This was for Lee, for the first sibling he’d grown close to, for the first person that wormed his way past the terrified prickly shell of an abused child and slowly coaxed Michael into learning to trust in family again.

The break didn’t come, his voice strengthening when it should have – would have – faltered. Warmth spread across him, invisible but impossible to miss, and the feel of a weightless hand covered his shoulder.

The tears spilled down his cheek, even as his voice held steady, imbued with a strength that wasn’t his.

Pros oligon esti to zēn To telos ho chronos apaitei

It was a short lament, too short to only sing the once when there were several dead and grief prevailed across the sobbing campers. He let the last strains of the final word fade away into silence before starting it again, letting the warmth carry his voice, keeping it strong and stable even as Michael himself felt like he was falling apart.

Hóson zêis, phaínou Mēdèn hólōs sỳ lypoû

Slowly, as surreptitiously as he could manage – for how little it mattered when no-one had eyes for him, when the burning pyres drew every eye, including his own, with no remorse – his own hand crept up to the epicentre of warmth on his shoulder. It only met air, falling down on his own camp t-shirt with nothing in the way, but he’d expected that, even as it shifted until it felt like his hand, too, was being enveloped by the weightless, invisible, not-really-there one.

Pros oligon esti to zēn To telos ho chronos apaitei

Once the funeral was over, once the pyres burned to ash and nothing was left of the bodies and shrouds borne upon them, when Michael’s throat rasped from the words and tears for all that his voice kept going, his siblings would join him and all eyes would be upon them as the lament faded and songs of joy and celebration, uplifting sounds to counter the grief took their place.

Michael couldn’t spare his siblings that – it was a cabin-wide responsibility, for all that he didn’t know how they were supposed to sing of joy when their hearts had been torn in two – but at least, this time, he’d spared any of them this moment, standing alone and small against the onslaught of grief, both the camp’s and his own, fierce choking emotion.

Well, not quite alone. Michael’s hand flexed where it was encased by the comforting, supporting warmth of the sun, and stood a little straighter, head a little further back, as he repeated the lament once again.

#4>>

#percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfic #tsari writes fanfiction #michael yew #lee fletcher #pjo apollo #cabin seven #apollo cabin #sing a song of seven

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heavymetalchemist · 5 years ago

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I agree w/ some points u made in ur meta abt jiang cheng, but wwx wasnt just a sworn brother. they literally grew up side by side and yet he was wilfully blind to wwx's nature that should have made jc trust him: wwx's goodness, his tenacity, his selflessness. jc knew him and yet in his grief and anger and haste to blame someone he pours it all on his brother who, as selfless and self-loathing as he is, accepts all the blame. It's not abt the lie, but that jc chose to believe the lie.

I’m guessing this is in response to this post and to clarify, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian ARE brothers, and I didn’t mean to diminish that by comparing the blind trust to Lan Xichen and the Venerated Triad.

However, here’s the thing, like, what lie are we talking about? Because the lie I’m referring to in that post is multifaceted:

Your golden core has been restored by Baoshan Sanren

I’m totally fine

I can absolutely control all this resentful energy and this new cultivation method isn’t hurting me at all

I don’t carry my sword any more because I don’t feel like it, even though it is very publicly rude of me not to

You cannot rely on me to help you run the sect because I am off in a tavern drinking all day, stumbling home drunk, but again, I’m totally fine and have nothing to discuss with you about my mental state at all, I swear I am just a fun-loving guy!

I have said before on my blog that I don’t like good person/bad person dichotomy, for a number of reasons, but primarily because it implies a static state of being and causes a willful blindness to harm people cause. People are complex, and while I do think intent matters, it’s not magic. Wei Wuxian gives up his golden core for Jiang Cheng, with all the good intentions in the world, but he does this without consulting Jiang Cheng, lying to him about it, drugging him to perform experimental surgery, dealing with the trauma of three months in the burial mounds and not having a core alone and absolutely refusing and rebuffing every overture Jiang Cheng makes trying to figure out what’s wrong with him, causing a lot of political problems with his behavior that Jiang Cheng then has to smooth over (and the Jiang sect is in a very fragile place, politically), then busting into a prison camp and killing ALL the guards with a fierce corpse and running off to the burial mounds with the last of the Wen cultivators.

And even with all of this, Jiang Cheng still defends and cares about him, they have that entire staged fight after Wei Wuxian insists on leaving the Jiang sect, which to Jiang Cheng is a betrayal of his promise to be with him in leading the sect, but Wei Wuxian does not tell Jiang Cheng about the whole surgery thing so he really doesn’t have a clue about how much Wen Qing and Wen Ning did for him (although, of course, if he had known about it he would never have let them do it, I’m sure).

From Jiang Cheng’s perspective, how is he supposed to trust in this goodness and selflessness? WWX is throwing the Jiang sect under the bus. WWX is not helping rebuild the sect, he’s drinking all day. (Of course he’s traumatized, they’re ALL traumatized, but he’s not talking about it so how can JC help?) WWX murders a bunch of Jin sect cultivators, running off with a bunch of prisoners of war, from the sect that attempted a full-scale genocide of the Jiang sect. (And to be clear I do not condemn this action and think that Blood Feuds Are Bad, however, in context this is a world where blood feuds are a very real thing. Personally I like the AU where they get Nie Mingjue on their side, as the Nie sect actually has a lot of power that the Jiang sect simply doesn’t, and therefore they can protect the Wen remnants that way. But I digress.)

Not to mention, WWX is using demonic cultivation, corpses are running around, he’s thrumming with resentful energy. Not a good look.

And then Jin Zixuan gets his heart punched out. In CQL there’s a second flautist, but in the book he simply loses control (the control he SWORE he had) and even in CQL it’s not like we find out about the second flautist until the end. How is JC supposed to trust in WWX’s goodness when he’s just murdered his brother-in-law? When he’s abandoned his family and sect for the people that murdered them? (YES I know the Dafan Wens weren’t involved in actively killing people but this is the whole blood-feud-thing, audience knowledge is not character knowledge, etc.)

And then at Nightless City, WWX loses control AGAIN (or at least appears to), three thousand people get murdered, Yanli dies, and JC STILL can’t actually stab him. JC was DESPERATE for any sort of explanation or reason of why this was all happening, but over and over WWX said it was fine, and the real takeaway for JC by the time Nightless City rolls around is - this man is not the boy I grew up with, this man is no longer my brother, my brother would NEVER do this would NEVER hurt Yanli, so it can’t be him any more.

It’s not unlike knowing someone who becomes addicted to drugs. Someone you knew and loved becomes an alcoholic and their whole life goes up in flames and then they’re drunk driving and then they kill someone doing it, and how long are you supposed to sit there while they destroy themselves, telling yourself that you know they’re a good person on the inside?

Now all that said, on the OTHER hand, if you’re talking about the lies that the other sect leaders were spouting, about how WWX was speaking against JC, about how he doesn’t respect him, etc? You are SO right and it pains me so much that JC didn’t have the ability to stand up to those assholes and say “He’s my brother, shut the fuck up” a la Yanli to Zixun at Phoenix Mountain. Even with all the crap going on in the background, it was obvious to the other (older!) sect leaders that WWX was very powerful and very close to JC and they deliberately tried to undermine the Jiang sect and I hate them. That plays into a lot of the trauma that JC personally has but yes, I think that’s one of the failings that haunts him - how could I have listened to their poisoned words at all?

#jiang cheng #wei wuxian #yunmeng bros #ask #anyway also like I am Not A Fan of the blaming WWX immediately after Lotus Pier burns #although I am forgiving of a heartbroken teenager making mistakes #it really bothers me that they just kind of... leave it?#like jc pls apologize for choking your brother #pls tell him you know it wasn't his fault #I guess that it doesn't happen because by the time they can really talk about it #it's months later and wwx shows up all haunted #and they have a super awkward time with lwj #and then they bond by torturing wen chao to death!#fun times #anyway that's the thing about a tragedy #Mistakes Were Made and they had Dire Consequences #Anonymous

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tanoraqui · 5 years ago

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Grave dirt baby... 🥺✨

me, procrastinating my actual fic? no... GRAVE DIRT BABY A-YUAN

HEY TUMBLR FUCKED UP ALL MY BULLET POINTS ON THIS THE SECOND I HIT POST BUT IT’S 4AM SO I’M LEAVING IT UP ANYWAY. STUPID GODDAMN WEBSITE.

Wei Wuxian has been in the Burial Mounds for like 2.5 months out of what he doesn’t yet know will be about 3. He’s not even sure he’s going to survive yet. But he has managed to manifest an evil sword - the evil sword - out of the aether/ambient resentful energy/an attunement set with an unwise touch in the belly of an evil turtle

and he does know that he’s not going to survive if he doesn’t get the power of the Burial Mounds under some sort of control

so he cuts his arm and with blood running down the blade, draws something adjacent to the first demon-summoning flag but as an array in the dirt. He stands in the middle and - keep in mind that he more or less hasn’t slept in 2.5 months - plunges the sword into the center, still coated in his blood, and draws in all the resentful energy of the Burial Mounds

was it supposed to go into the sword? Into himself? Into just the single 4ft diameter array area, a column of bound death? who knows, not Wei Wuxian! it’s pure gut instinct

u know what else works on gut instinct, thought? Fairy tales.

And in a fairy tale, why, clay of the earth plus iron enough for a blade plus still-warm blood to show the way...

There’s an implosion and Wei Wuxian is standing - somehow still standing - in a small crater where the array used to be, and his evil sword is plunged into the belly of a baby

He yanks it out in horrified reflex, and realizes a moment later that the baby seems unfazed by this. If there was even a wound, it closes before his eyes, and the glimpse he had showed something more bloody clay than flesh beneath the skin

the iron sword crumbles as he pulls it away, as though rusted a thousand years. the baby turns its head from the iron shavings that falls on it, but then reaches up for Wei Wuxian with a cheerfully demanding cry

he picks it up, of course. (he’d think he was hallucinating if he wasn’t absolutely and utterly aware that he’s not)

it is, as far as he can tell, with physical and spiritual resentful inspection, an absolutely normal baby

oh, except when he looks really closely. Then he can sense the neutron star–dense knot of resentful energy where a golden core might (but will definitely not have room to) form. Also, it can command the dead, and when he holds it, so can he. He’s not sure if it’s a proximity-based power share or if he’s passing his desires through the baby, but even Wei Wuxian, at about 3 months with no food save the rage of the dead and no rest save the promise of final release, has to stop investigating at some point. He has things to do!

specifically, he has Wens to kill

so instead of the iconic shot of the dark flautist in the moonlight, we get the dark, uh...man singing a very spooky lullaby to his baby in the moonlight. It is still deeply creepy. It’s a making-it-up-as-he-goes tune based on a Yunmengi lullaby that he certainly learned from neither of his foster parents, and the lyrics are along the lines of, “let them remember what they did, sweet little potato, let them remember why they’re dying”

yeah he’s been calling this child “Little Potato” for 2 weeks

why

is that not how you name a child

sometimes when he’s more annoyed at it, he calls it “Little Radish”, or even less appetizing root vegetables

by the time he walks in, the baby is asleep in his arms and he’s not singing anymore, just letting the dead do his will. This is what Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji see. The subsequent conversation, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu at their feet, goes like this:

LWJ: Wei Ying. You have a baby.

WWX: Oh, uh...

PLAY DUMB!

WWX: What baby?

NOT THAT DUMB!

WWX: Oh, this baby! Haha yeah. I...found it.

JC: What the fuck

WWX: Yeah, weird, right? Right near the, uh...

LWJ: They said you were in the Burial Mounds

WWX: Yyyyup. Yes that is. I found this baby by the side of the road after I walked out of the Burial Mounds.

JC, briefly too morbidly fascinated to think about either the demonic cultivation they just watched or the fact that he wants to hug his brother like he’s never wanted to hug another being in his life: What did you name it?

WWX: ....

JC, desire to hug intensifying together with exasperation: oh my god

Sometime in the next couple days - after sleeping a bit, maybe - it occurs to Wei Wuxian that his raw instincts were right and things will go very badly for little A-Yuan (his siblings insisted he name it) if anyone finds out that he’s a not-yet-walking, not-yet-talking little neuron star of resentful energy. So he takes the iron shavings that are all that remain of the Stygian Turtle Sword and forges them into a Tiger-shaped Seal. He also carves a bamboo flute, like he’d been thinking about before the whole...baby thing. He loudly proclaims both to be dark and terrible weapons

(it really is helpful. The sword was...kind of A-Yuan’s other parent, after all, in addition to their third partner, the Burial Mounds. Chenqing gives him finer control of whatever stray resentful energy he chooses to pick up, and the Stygian Seal lets him channel A-Yuan’s power at need, even when not touching him. Which is good - a battlefield is no place for a baby)

even if that baby thinks ghosts and ghouls exist to pick him up and rock him or toss him around (babies like to be tossed)

Wei Wuxian puts so many goddamn spirit-repelling charms on that child, and lets it be marked down to the paranoia of a survivor

using whatever resentful energy he picks up is generally more effective, actually. Less strong, but it quickly becomes clear that the way this works does, in fact, involve Wei Wuxian communicating his desires through A-Yuan, or at least A-Yuan has to put up with the loan of power. There’s nothing quite like abruptly losing control of a field of corpses because the baby got abruptly uncooperative with anything that wasn’t barfing

the baby does eat, for the record. As far as Wei Wuxian can tell, he doesn’t actually need to, but once WWX fed him once, when they first left the Mounds, he wanted it all the time

he still takes A-Yuan with him when he can. That is the paranoia of a survivor. A-Yuan is...

“A battlefield is no place for a baby, A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says gently, as he sets out from Carp Tower after another stolen visit, another failed attempt to convince Jin Guangshan off his ass. “And you are...so busy. LanlingJin takes in orphans, you know...”

“A-Yuan...he’s my blood,” Wei Wuxian says quietly. He’s never been good at lying to his shijie

Whatwherewhenhowwho, he’d see on her face if he was looking at it. But he isn’t. It’s not shame, though, she can see (it really never is, with Wei Wuxian). Fear of disappointing her, slight resignation...but mostly acceptance. Determination. Something almost like contentment.

(When Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangj first took him back to whatever resembled a base camp - somewhere in Qinghe, probably, or maybe Lanling - he had to let a trained healer look at A-Yuan, physical and spiritual examination, and he held his breath and calculated how many people he’d have to kill to get out of here, how fast he’d have to move to not hurt his brother or any particular friends; thought, oh, he’s mine, in a way he hadn’t before - as a child, a son, not just a very strange weapon -

“He’s quite healthy,” said the doctor, mildly surprised, bouncing A-Yuan on one knee. A-Yuan gurgled happily. “About three months old?”

the longer Wei Wuxian took to answer, the more disapproving her stare got. But that did make sense)

Then all else can be dealt with later. “You should still leave him here,” Jiang Yanli says firmly. “You need to look after yourself and A-Cheng out there. I can look after A-Yuan.”

It takes a bit under two years to win back the lost and burnt territories, scour the Wens out of every crevice, corner Wen Ruohan in his precious Nightless City and bring it tumbling down. Nobody will know the timing but A-Yuan sleeps through the final battle, smiling at dreams that would make a grown man weep in horror. Somewhere, his father is playing a lullaby

About a week later, Jiang Cheng stalks into Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, which he shares with A-Yuan. One of the first rooms rebuilt in the new Lotus Pier. A-Yuan is there, too, playing with blocks while Wei Wuxian idly drafts talismans

“A-jie said the kid is yours,” he says, crossed arms. “Like, yours-yours. When the fuck did you do that?”

(Wei Wuxian has thought about this, by now; gone over the pros and cons of every possibility, the politics and potentials and maybe even the giddy possibility of telling something like the truth)

(the guiding principle is: he has no interest in drawing on the “Stygian Tiger Seal” ever again. The Sunshot Campaign is over. His loved ones are safe, and he sees no reason why they shouldn’t all live long, happy, normal lives)

(also/though, he will burn Jin Sect, Carp Tower, and all of Lanling to the ground before the new Chief Cultivator should touch his son)

“In Caiyi,” he lies. “Right before I got kicked out. I, uh, snuck out a lot more often than you noticed.”

His brother squints at him suspiciously. But Wei Wuxian can also watch him do the math in his head and reluctantly admit that it works.

“So are you claiming him or what?” he challenges. “’Wei Yuan’? You have a courtesy name - wait, no, you are not naming that kid again. You’re going to make his courtesy name be Carrothead or something.”

“Should I let you pick it, oh wise and noble shidi - no, shushu?!” Wei Wuxian teases, as A-Yuan gets tired of his blocks and starts climbing up him like a jungle gym

Jiang Cheng sighs like the north wind - gusting long and hard, with just the faintest chill to suggest that the skies will be weeping, soon

But...

Despite some evidence to the contrary, Wei Wuxian is generally fully aware of when he’s about to cross a line that cannot be backtracked over. So he meets Wen Qing in the city, and before going to Lanling, he nips into Lotus Pier and picks up A-Yuan

He might leave A-Yuan with Wen Qing in the city when he goes to Glamour Hall, but Qiongqi Pass happens with a toddler watching silently from Wei Wuxian’s hip. Does Wei Wuxian tell him to look away, bury his face in baba’s shirt, or does he not bother, knowing the sort of song that makes up A-Yuan’s sweet dreams?

The Wens become the second through 51st or so people who learn what A-Yuan is. Wei Wuxian briefly considers trying to hide it, but, honestly, there are dead things everywhere on the Burial Mounds, and despite his genuine efforts, he cannot convince A-Yuan that a fierce corpse is anything but the ideal patty-cake companion. (They’ll play with him for hours! It’s a two-nearly-three-year-old’s dream!)

(he doesn’t want to convince him, not really. The last thing he wants to do ever is give A-Yuan anything to be scared of)

nor could he possibly wish that A-Yuan not be...obviously hale and hearty, running rosy-cheeked and strong around these hills of death that slowly seep the energy from any humans, animals, or even sturdy root crops

“So, uh, this is actually my demon baby,” said Wei Wuxian as they all settled in

“this day has been so weird already, this might as well goddamn happen”, said the Wens collectively

“You created a living child out of dead earth, so I’m going to take that as a yes that you can bring my brother back,” said Wen Qing specifically

“...fuck. I mean, yes. I mean - fuck,” said Wei Wuxian. “I- of course I will.”

(it doesn’t work like that, though)

The 52nd person to find out what A-Yuan is is Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian very much does not tell him. They have a pleasant toy-shopping trip and lunch in town, and then the alarm talisman goes off and Wei Wuxian grabs A-Yuan and Lan Wangji tugs them both onto Bichen and when they arrive, Wen Ning is roaring. Lan Wangji knows what’s important; he takes A-Yuan so Wei Wuxian’s hands are free and he doesn’t have to worry about his son

except Wen Ning, black-eyed with rage, throws Wei Wuxian into a tree hard enough to crack a rib, and even as Lan Wangji raises Bichen, A-Yuan shouts,

“Uncle Ning, stop!”

and Wen Ning stops

(as a rule, Wei Wuxian can’t take over with himself and Chenqing anything A-Yuan is controlling, unless A-Yuan lets him, and vice versa. To eliminate variables, Wei Wuxian had made sure that any reins on Wen Ning were his (Wei Wuxian’s) alone. But in that moment, before Wen Ning came fully back to himself, his reins were swinging free - and they were back within the bounds of the Burial Mounds, where A-Yuan was always strong)

and Lan Wangji puts several pieces together at once and prays to every single god in heaven and every ancestor he’s disappointing right now that this was a miracle of love and a very cute child piercing through a fierce corpse’s mindless rampage. That he simply...hallucinated the burst of resentful energy he just felt from the child in his arms

but he’s absolutely, utterly aware that he didn’t

Wei Wuxian explains, stilted and awkward at the bottom of the hill. Challenging and terrified. Holding on to A-Yuan.

Lan Wangji promises to keep the secret.

Wei Wuxian takes Hanguang-jun’s word

Remember, oh, remember, that Wei Wuxian walks A-Yuan back up the hill until A-Yuan gets tired and Wei Wuxian picks him up, on their one-and-a-half–man plank bridge through the dark. Remember remember remember that before he can finish speaking that line, there is light - the clearing is lit with lanterns and secret-keepers 2 through 51, and I suppose 53 now that Wen Ning is awake, are waiting with dinner and warmth and welcome. Reader, remember this.

But then...

Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning had gone, and then, with a terrible expression on his face, so had A-Yuan’s baba. Now his baba’s anger and sadness is so strong that the weight of it makes A-Yuan cry from hundreds of miles away, and he curls into Granny’s arms and sends his baba everything he can. Will everything be okay, then? Will everyone come home; will they be able to smile again?

(oh, A-Yuan...)

(No.)

A-Yuan - Wei Yuan, Little Potato (when he’s good for baba or bad for Aunt Qing) or Little Radish (inverse); one day to be Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui - was born in the good old fairy tale way of earth and iron and blood. It’s a hard thing for any child to lose even a single parent - in one day, in one minute, A-Yuan loses two of three, as the father of his blood burns away in hand the last shreds of Stygian iron, and promptly loses control of his own resentful energy

(the Tiger Seal does nothing like explode, in this world. It was never more than a prop - but a vital one. the benefit of proving it destroyed would be worth the loss of a parent, if only a second didn’t follow on its heels)

A-Yuan has been a dead thing (or close enough) come to life all his life, and both dead and living have been his friends and family. But he’s never felt the transition the other way: from life to death

It’s no wonder, really, that he can’t remember it afterward. No wonder that even on the land that was the last part of him, he was feverish and barely conscious when Lan Wangji stumbled, bleeding, off of Bichen, and took in his arms. No wonder that he remembered very little at all, including the dead.

But he would be okay. Under physical and spiritual inspection, he’s a perfectly normal boy. He may not be able to form a golden core (there's something in the way), but there are...workarounds. He’ll grow up in one of the most heavily spiritually warded enclaves in the world, safe and loved as he relearns (mostly in secret) what he can do

(For the sake of this story, and A-Yuan’s survival as something close to canon, let’s say there are some truly dark things in the forbidden section of the Lan Library, that could only be used for nefarious purposes - though, I suppose we already knew that. Let’s say there are talismans that will disguise the very nature of qi, so resentful energy may appear spiritual. Let’s say, Lan Xichen becomes the 53rd to know the truth, because his brother needs help - and it’s Wei Wuxian’s child, okay? It’s just Wei Wuxian’s child, quiet and unsure rather than laughing as he always was. If you were in the inner circle of leaders of the Sunshot Campaign, you have absolutely met this child, probably held him and bounced him on one knee)

(What keeps Lan Xichen up at night isn’t the concealing amulet he helped his brother make, which Lan Yuan wears at all times around his neck. It’s the silence he keeps every time he meets Jiang Wanyin’s eyes over a diplomatic table. If anyone had the right to know Wei Yuan survived... But Sandu Sengshou killed Wei Wuxian, everyone knows that, and now he hunts demonic cultivators - what might his pride drive him to do to his nephew, if he ever learned the truth? (Selfishly, Lan Xichen know that if Lan Wangji lost A-Yuan, even just to living at Lotus Pier, Lan Xichen might lose his brother. That fear ebbs with time passing, but the the longer he hasn’t spoken, the worse it would be to do so...))

They don’t restrict Lan Yuan to the Cloud Recesses, no more than any other novice. For memory of their mother, neither of them could bear that. Jiang Cheng does eventually see him at a conference, and stops dead. Years have passed, but that is an entire goddamn nephew, right there. But - how? No, it can’t be. That’s...everyone knows Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian. It’s just...and someone would have told him. The Lans value propriety above all, after all.

Anything that can be done with spiritual cultivation can be done with demonic cultivation, save heal. Lan Sizhui makes up for it with an encyclopedic knowledge of undead and monsters, and a prodigal talent for Inquiry

On their first night hunt, the young juniors face ghosts. Unfortunately, this is when Lan Jingyi learns that he’s terrified of ghosts. He’s hiding behind Lan Sizhui and panic is contagious, and the senior accompanying them is in a different room of the abandoned house, and Lan Sizhui forgets that he’s holding a sword and just shouts, “Stop! Go away!”

the ghost, of course, obeys

Lan Jingyi peeks out form behind him. “Did- did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lan Sizhui admits (except that he’s absolutely sure he did)

There’s another flicker of movement, just the wind blowing ashes but Jingyi whips around with wild eyes. “Can you do it again?”

[friendship. my point is, he’s a demon baby but he has family and friends who love and accept him.]

And one day, some absolute fucking morons are going to bring him back home, where he can never be anything but strong, and threaten his friends and family? And the threat is an army of his old playmates, commanded by an attempt at recreating some combination of Chenqing and the Tiger Seal? He couldn’t manage it in Yi City, but now A-Yuan, Wei Yuan, Lan Sizhui stands on earth that has never stopped being part of him, or maybe he’s never stopped being part of it. If he closed his eyes he could feel every foot on it, living and restless dead. And they’re threatening his baba - who he remembers, as the earth remembers its old partner, even though the blood is changed - and his father Hanguang-jun, and his extended family and friends?

No.

#lyratalus #mdzs #the untamed #ficlet #lan sizhui #wei wuxian #uh who else is here #must i tag them all? don't wanna #my fic #hmm need the speaker for the dead variant to get more childhood stuff; they're similar there

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amedetoiles · 5 years ago

Note

give me a character meme! wwx please!!

[All gifs made by me. No stealing or reposting, thank you. ♥︎]

★ How I feel about this character

I love wwx so much and he deserves so much!!! My feelings for him can be summed up by my first ever meta in this fandom, this half-crack half-shitpost, and the many many meta tears scattered across all the tags on my page that various people have yelled at me for. I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him. No character has wrecked me as much as this stupid chaotic ass, who is so inherently good and selfishly selfless it fucking hurts. Yet, for all the love and care he gives freely to everyone else, he can’t for the life of him compute any that others have given to him. He tries so hard to be good, to make the right choices even in impossible, horrendous circumstances, and it’s excruciatingly painful watching him realize again and again that even good choices paved with good intentions can cause destruction. He suffers so much because of it. He suffers before we even really meet him. @cangse-sanren wrote “Your parents were bright smears of color and laughter to you, but little more” in this beautiful fic, and I still weep about it daily.

I love how immensely protective he is of both his siblings. He just tries so goddamn hard to be what everyone needs. I could and have and will continue to cry about him every day. How his pathological tendency to repress all things that hurt him, to cover up his pain in humor and obnoxiousness and bravado, and his internalized belief that he is worth much less than everyone else, all converged into the most awful way possible. How despite losing his sect, his siblings, his friends, he was still trying up until the very end. God, what a fantastically complex fucking character. To watch him bloom again after that deluge of rage and grief and insanity 13/16 years later was the most satisfying journey anyone could possibly depict. To know that he has the chance to heal, to recover, to grow with all the different parts of his family he once thought lost forever now back in his reach (yes! even our angry grape!!). Truly amazing.

★ All the people I ship romantically with this character

WangXian!!!! These kids who came out of endless tragedy and trauma to find a love, a trust in each other–theirs is a love story that truly extends across space and time. It warms my heart to watch them rebuild their lives together into something warmer, and brighter, and happier than either of them ever grew up knowing. To watch them shed the psychological trauma on what it means to love and be loved given to them by their terrible parental figures and say, “No. We’re going to be better than that.” I love how they complement one another. How loudly and quietly they love each other. How in the warm security of each other’s embrace, they are each able to work through their own internalized traumas without judgement. Lan Wangji’s uncompromising devotion. Wei Wuxian’s fierce protectiveness. It’s hard to say who else could fit together so perfectly. What a joy it is to watch Wei Wuxian realize that he is no longer alone, that Lan Wangji is and will always be standing beside him. What a joy it is to watch Lan Wangji realize that this is not the dream he’s spent years suffering through, that Wei Ying has returned to him against all odds. What a fucking joy it is to watch them both learn to trust happiness, to trust love, to trust each other. GOD. *wails*

★ My non-romantic OTP for this character

YUNMENG SHUANGJIE. YUNMENG SIBS. YILING SIBS. A-YUAN AND HIS TWO DADS. All the different found families that permeated the story was just breathtakingly beautiful. They all fucking gutted me. It all at once makes Wei Wuxian’s story that much more beautiful and that much more tragic. For a child who lost his parents before he even had time to remember them, who then had to rebuild his family again and again, only to lose them each time in increasingly horrifying ways–it truly fucked me up. Wei Wuxian stood on that cliff in Nightless City, and it was visibly clear that he wanted nothing more than to join all the families he loved and watched die (because of him).

The beauty of his story of course is that for all the tragedy that he is subsumed by, for all the ways that he is wronged and has wronged, there are equal, if not more, number of ways that he is lifted, is healed, is shone a light through all the darkness. In the end, his families return to him. Wen Ning, who lived despite it all, carrying the memory of his sister, the best doctor in the world. His shijie shining through his bratty nephew’s heart of gold. His very own A-Yuan, kept safe and protected all these years by his soulmate, his zhiji. His angry grape of a little brother who can’t say I forgive you but tosses him Chenqing that he’s kept safe all these years and says I trust you. They’re all a little broken, a little worse for wear, but there’s something extraordinarily beautiful about these families who find each other again through the bridges they rebuild towards something better.

★ My unpopular opinion about this character

Oh man, I’ve seen a lot of debate about wwx that I try not to get into (I type this of course as I ready myself to do exactly that). Probably the most unpopular opinion (possibly?) I have is that I don’t personally feel like the addition of a second flautist and expanding Jin Guangyao’s villain-ry in CQL detracted or reduced Wei Wuxian’s complex morality–one of my favorite and best parts to his character. I still think he is very gray. His tragedy is still contingent on his naive idealism and his willful blindness that a person only needs to be righteous and honorable regardless of reputation and politics. This clearly isn’t the case. Not just for him, but for all the characters. You can do everything right and still be punished. You can do everything right and still cause others pain. You can be the most hypocritical, loudmouthed piece of judgmental shit and still remain unpunished and available to share your stupid ass ignorant opinions on matters that have nothing to do with you. (Whoops that got away from me.) Wei Wuxian learns this repeatedly. It’s excellent and heartbreaking.

The thing about Wei Wuxian is that for all that he has imposter syndrome, for all that he is unable to see that he is a person worthy of the love he receives, he is still not only extremely confident in his own abilities and in his beliefs of what is right and what is wrong, but also that he is the person who can decide that line between justice and evil. An arrogant assumption, and one that causes not only him but the people he strives to protect a significant amount of pain. This wasn’t lost in CQL. While the plot technically does absolve him of all of his crimes on a surface level, it’s clearly not as simple for Wei Wuxian himself. In the Ancestral Hall, Wei Wuxian stares at the names of Jiang Fengmian, Madam Yu, and Jiang Yanli, whose lives are heavily felt on his shoulders, and he tells Lan Wangji, “After all, the Stygian Tiger Seal was created by me. Whether Jin Guangyao was there or not, that fact can’t be changed.” The show despite its censorship still asks the audience to evaluate his actions and the role he played, both willing and unwillingly, in the deaths of so many people.

It is also shown clearly that the cultivation world only stops trying to kill him because there was now another target, another scapegoat to blame. This is something that Wei Wuxian knows and expresses on multiple occasions on the show. For all that the show may have change things, I don’t think it’s necessarily correct or fair to say that it completely washed away the nuance that was present in the novel. The overarching conflicts and questions are still there. What is moral and what isn’t, what is justified and what isn’t, who is at fault for unforeseen consequences and who isn’t, and the role of external factors and circumstances in all of this. As someone who watched the drama first, I didn’t feel that the complexity of all the characters and their decisions was lost at all in comparison to the novel I later read. The show was honestly superb and still the best version for me overall. (Please don’t send pitchforks.) I have so much more to say about this, and Jin Guangyao still being a great nuanced character foil, but alas, this is already too long.

Other things: Wei Wuxian is a good brother actually, and he knows Jiang Cheng very well. He tried his best under the worst possible circumstances, and it was a great big shit show. I hate discussions where people try to hold one brother more responsible than the other. They both very nobly (and very recklessly) sacrificed a great deal for each other, and they both, frankly, fucked up. They’re Twin Idiots, and I’ll love and drag them both equally dammit! With that in mind, Wei Wuxian’s happy ending isn’t just him joining GusuLan sect, novel be fucking damned (yes, I said it!). His home can be in Gusu and Yunmeng. *SLAMS FISTS* Let 👏 Wei 👏 Wuxian 👏 go 👏 home 👏. (Talking to you, my grape guy. Jin Ling is going to show up in Lotus Pier one day with his da-jiu, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.)

★ One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

WEI WUXIAN PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HUG YOUR DIDI. Jiang Cheng has been waiting 16+ years for your hug, and he damn well deserves one, especially since he gave you such a great octopus hug, all limbs and burrowed scrunchy faces. Like, I know, I know, you were distraught, and traumatized, half-beaten to death after three days of intense surgery, then reaped by ten thousand undead souls calling for revenge, but guess who told your favorite (only) angry grape little brother that in the next life, let’s be brothers again okay? GUESS WHO IS LIVING HIS NEXT LIFE??????? Bruh. Chop chop. Hop fucking to it.

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kitauji-king · 5 years ago

Text

‘Liz and the Blue Bird’ Recap Part 3

Our favorite trumpet and euphonium duo are getting ready to practice.

The cracks in Nozomi’s facade are beginning to show.

Nozomi still attempts to preserve the illusion nevertheless.

Speaking of being perfectly in-sync with each other, say hello to the poster children for a perfectly healthy relationship. To me, KumiRei has to be one of the best pairings based on how well they get each other and how they consistently support each other throughout all of their endeavors. They both see the other’s flaws but they still remain devoted to each other regardless. This is represented by them playing Mizore and Nozomi’s duet perfectly in time and in tune with each other.

Mizore overhears the duo practicing too and stops to take a look. She doesn’t stick around for too long though.

We love to see it.

It was a confession of love, after all.

That’s true, if Kumiko and Reina were in the position of Liz and the bluebird, their parting would take on a different meaning. As I said only a moment ago, Kumiko and Reina are always in support of each other. If one of them felt as though the other one was being held back from achieving their full potential and becoming special, they wouldn’t hesitate for a second in letting the other one go. They’d have no doubt that letting the other go would be the correct choice.

Nozomi second guesses herself.

Mizore has read the story through multiple times, but she still can’t seem to get into Liz’s head.

Another area where Mizore and I are quite similar. Just like her, I find myself getting extremely attached to certain people I care deeply about and I even go as far as creating this idealized version of them in my head. The idea of letting that person go is almost unspeakable.

Yuuko is extremely passionate about this because after Nozomi quit, she was the only one Mizore had left. She saw firsthand how strongly this abandonment affected her, even to the point of her getting physically sick. So, it makes sense that she’s frustrated at Nozomi for doing the same thing all over again.

Well, sometimes, but communication is also important too. When was Mizore supposed to find out, then?

Niiyama makes a very astute assumption about Mizore and her sentimentality, to which Mizore can’t deny. Then, she gives Mizore a different perspective to think about.

Back in the fairy tale world, Liz finally breaks the news to the blue girl. She takes it pretty well.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the rug was pulled out from underneath the blue girl. She had been living with Liz and the two of them had been pretty much attached at the hip for a while now. They had come to love each other deeply, but now Liz is telling her she has to leave.

Liz has come to terms with the fact that the blue girl cannot truly be free or happy if she chooses to stay with her.

This particular shot with the way Liz looks at the blue girl and the way she speaks this line really melts my heart. All of her love is being reflected in her eyes. I think what makes this even more emotional is the addition of Liz pulling back for a moment to recompose herself before she speaks. It’s a painful decision to make, but she has to peel off the band-aid. The blue girl is reluctant to leave, but she does so anyway out of respect for Liz’s decision.

Also, I’m going to use this shot to reaffirm my statement that this is a queer movie. Liz’s one line in this shot hints at the nature of her relationship with the blue girl. It’s not platonic. In Japan, there are quite a few ways to say “I love you,” all of them having their own nuances and context. Liz uses “aishiteru,” which is normally used only in romantic situations; for instance what two spouses or two lifelong partners would say to each other. “Aishiteru” marks a very deep, committed, romantic relationship. It has such great meaning that the word isn’t even that commonly used in normal settings. Yes, it’s a bit bold of me to label their relationship as romantic, but I still find it a little ridiculous to assume that the two of them are just friends and nothing more. I would even say that it was willful ignorance. Clearly, whatever this relationship is, it transcends friendship.

But also, it is just a fairy tale.

Suddenly it starts making sense.

All this time, Mizore had been restraining her playing so that she wouldn’t leave Nozomi behind. The whole reason she plays the oboe in the first place is because of Nozomi. Now she realizes that because she loves her, she has to convey her love and all her emotions through her playing to give it back to her. Music is the best way for someone like Mizore to express themselves after all.

Here Nozomi finally comes clean and comes to terms with her own jealousy. She admits that it hurt to see Mizore getting all this attention when Nozomi is also passionate about music. She has to learn to accept that Niiyama just happened to see a greater potential in Mizore that Nozomi just didn’t seem to have. She has to accept that Mizore is going places where she cannot follow.

Originally, they thought of Mizore as Liz, and Nozomi as the bluebird. Nozomi was a strange miracle that came into Mizore’s life when she least expected it. And then, just like the Avatar, when Mizore needed her most, she vanished.

The roles have been reversed.

The bluebird has gone away to be free with others of her kind, and Liz is left to watch as the bluebird soars higher and higher and farther and farther away.

A stray bluebird feather descends from the sky. Liz grabs it and holds it closely, accepting is as something to remember her companion by. Ultimately, she made the correct decision in letting the bluebird go free, but god it still hurts. Now Nozomi knows she must do the same as well.

This last shot is so stunningly gorgeous from color to composition. I like that the film lingers here for a good few seconds.

Act 3 begins at the start of another rehearsal. In a seemingly uncharacteristically bold move by Mizore, she asks if they can go all the way through the Third Movement in Liz.

Niiyama approves.

As they begin playing the duet, Nozomi immediately notices that something is different.

Mizore is playing her part now with a new vigor and liveliness. All of her inhibitions have been thrown out the window and she doesn’t restrain herself to allow Nozomi to keep up. She’s soaring like the bluebird.

This specific portion of the song gives me chills and goosebumps every single time. The music is at a low rumble, Mizore leads as the piece is building up and building up until the cymbals crash and a trumpet fanfare begins, marking the climax of the movement.

Nozomi is so overcome with her emotions she can hardly play. She can’t focus enough to even move her fingers and fake it. The camera going in and out of focus really enhances this.

Nozomi finally drops out, laying the flute down in her lap in defeat. She just can’t keep up anymore.

She firmly grips the instrument in her lap as the tears begin to fall. It’s no use, and she knows it. Mizore has flown too high and far away for Nozomi to even reach her anymore.

Mizore concludes the solo on a literal high note.

The film goes silent. Everyone in the room is left utterly speechless or in tears because of Mizore’s solo. I had the same reaction. Not Niiyama-sensei though. She knew all along that Mizore could play like this; she’s merely proud.

If even Reina offers her kudos to your playing, that’s how you know you’re an amazing musician.

Even with all this praise, there’s still one thing on Mizore’s mind.

Mizore finds Nozomi sulking alone in what was previously her own hiding spot: the blowfish tank in the science lab.

Mizore’s in a difficult position. She doesn’t have that same type A personality that someone like Reina has. Mizore is happy to play as long as she gets to do it with Nozomi, the competition aspect isn’t that important to her. So I can see why she would hold herself back for Nozomi’s sake.

Nozomi’s in a tough position as well. She’s extremely passionate about music and she is a skilled flautist; she was the president of Minami Middle School’s band, the principal flautist to boot, and she only quit Kitauji’s band because she couldn’t stand being around the upperclassmen who didn’t take it seriously. We know this. So it really sucks for her to realize that she’s coming up short in her playing. Now this girl, whom she introduced to concert band in the first place, is turning out to be more skilled than she is and is even getting more attention for it. I don’t care who you are, that’s gotta hurt, petty or not.

This is reflecting the part in the short story where Liz claims to be just “a cage that confines you” and tells the bluebird that with her flight she can go anywhere she chooses.

Mizore is done being talked over and is ready to finally speak her mind.

Nozomi severely underestimates how much of an effect her disappearance had on her friend. It’s even affected how Mizore saw her other friendships (though she didn’t have very many to begin with). For the entire year that Nozomi was gone and Yuuko stuck by her side, Mizore was so sure that she was only doing that out of pity. She didn’t see herself as being worthy enough to be considered someone else’s friend. And now that Nozomi’s back, Mizore felt she had to live with the fear that it could happen again.

Mizore’s main fear is that she’s just another one of Nozomi’s many friends, and that if she ever stopped doing it, there would be no reason for Nozomi to continue to be her friend. Whether or not she actually liked band was irrelevant in that equation. And as we learned in season 2, when asked why she never quit the band even after Nozomi did, she explained that the oboe was the only thing keeping her connected to Nozomi.

Mizore’s as serious as a heart attack when it comes to how much she loves Nozomi.

Nozomi is referring to the part of herself that she doesn’t let anyone else see. The part of her that is petty, jealous, and selfish. She doesn’t feel she lives up to the perfect, kind hearted, divine being that her peers have made her out to be.

It is physically impossible for Mizore to even entertain the idea of hating Nozomi. She loves her, flaws and all.

Cutting Nozomi off from downplaying her confession, Mizore raises her hands in another I Love You Hug attempt. Nozomi is rendered speechless.

Mirroring the last I Love You Hug attempt, the two are froze in time and we, the audience, are left wondering “will they, or won’t they?” Boldly, Mizore is the first one to move; she wraps her arms around Nozomi and clutches onto her. Very hesitant and calculated, Nozomi slowly places her hands on Mizore’s waist.

For some reason, I don’t believe that, Nozomi.

In true I Love You Hug fashion, Mizore gushes about all of the good things Nozomi has brought into her life just by saying hi to her that one day.

Just typical things straight people platonically say about their friends.

This line can be interpreted many ways as I’ve seen when I look at other people’s analysis on this film. Some people say that this is Nozomi rejecting Mizore’s love confession seeing as she doesn’t compliment her on who she is, only what she does (her being a hard worker, and being skilled at the oboe). But I don’t agree with that interpretation. The point of this scene is for Nozomi to let go of the bluebird, just like Liz. I think that’s why she puts herself down, saying things like Mizore had to hold herself back for her sake, that she is very talented and has the whole world ahead of her. She does that so that Mizore will see how great her potential is and choose to live her own life and be free. I believe that if she had returned Mizore’s confession at this very second, that would defeat the entire purpose of her trying to release the bluebird.

Nozomi suddenly bursts out laughing. Maybe at the realization that all they needed to do was communicate with each other? I still stand by my opinion that giving each other cute nicknames would’ve resolved all of this a lot sooner.

See, I think you remember it perfectly, Nozomi.

We get this silent shot of two birds flying side by side in sync with each other.

I hope the school is paying this girl.

Mizore is trying to renew Liz again after who knows how long it’s been, and the librarian’s still trying to nag her. Luckily, Nozomi is there to save the day. However, she’s also there on a mission: she’s here to study for college exams.

This scene is meant to mirror the one at the beginning of the film with both of the girls walking to the band room and with Nozomi leading. In this scene, now the girls are independently following their own paths for the future. Mizore is practicing her oboe to get ready for music school, and Nozomi is studying up for a regular college.

Nozomi left a little doodle for Mizore on her sheet music as a reminder.

Looking through the windows of both domains, we see the same lone bluebird fly across the sky, showing us that both girls have learned to let go.

Some time later, Mizore is leaving the school building and up ahead is Nozomi’s smiling face waiting for her. She hurriedly runs up to catch up to her. Overtop of this is a voice over of Nozomi and Mizore deciding what they should eat on the way home. What’s significant about this scene is that now girls are being depicted as equals; gone are the days of them walking with Mizore trailing behind from a distance. Now they are walking side by side and both of their opinions for what they wanna do are being taken into consideration. It’s not just Nozomi calling the shots anymore.

Some things never change.

This line has kind of a double meaning. Yes, she really is going to practice and learn to play her solo with as much fervor as Mizore, but she also wants to use this time to work on herself as a person. She needs to get over her jealousy and learn to support her friend. And then maybe someday she’ll be able to return Mizore’s confession. She just needs a little time first.

Mizore agrees to keep practicing too, for a different reason though. She’ll keep following her own path.

Further demonstrating that they’ve never been more on the same page with each other than they are right now, Mizore and Nozomi hivemind for a second. Mizore recalls the conversation with Hazuki and Midori she eavesdropped on and uses the ‘Happy Ice Cream’ trick. I don’t think Nozomi realizes she’s going to be the one who has to pay for those ice creams, but you guys can cross that bridge when you come to it.

My god, what do you think she said!?

Wow, what a ride.

If you’ve actually managed to make it to the bottom of this review, I just wanna say welcome, and also thank you for taking the time to read this!

Like I said back in the intro ages ago, this immediately became my favorite film upon watching it. This is becoming one of those films that I can look back on every now again and still love it just as much if not more. KyoAni never fails to disappoint. Shoutout to Naoko Yamada, the amazing director. Would definitely recommend this film to anyone who has eyes and ears.

I’m really glad this film gave us all a chance to get a deeper look at Mizore and Nozomi’s relationship. After their 4-episode arc in season 2 of Hibike is concluded, we don’t hear much about them. This was a lovely aftermath to see how they’ve both changed and grown since their falling out and reuniting.

Now I wanna open this up for further discussion on the film. What are your thoughts and interpretations? Do you agree or disagree with me at any points? What did Nozomi say at the end!?! Leave a reply or send me and ask and I’ll try to respond to as many as I can.

Part 1

Part 2

#analysis #Liz and the blue bird #Hibike! Euphonium #Animation Appreciation #Kyoto Animation #kyoani #mizore yoroizuka #nozomi kasaki #anime #recap

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beanie-on-a-string · 5 years ago

Text

Dark Crystal AOR Modern Au Headcanons

Rian

So like

I’ve said this before but

V-necks everywhere. Also flannels. He likes flannels. And on an especially good day... flannel on top of v-neck.

He’s like... average height, maybe a little taller

His dad put him in fencing when he was super teeny and now he loves it and is really good

Also just a side note but MIRA IS NOT DEAD IN THIS AU SHE JUST HAD TO MOVE AWAY OK

They’re not dating anymore but they’re still friends and keep in contact

Anyway

He’s just a smartass. This guy won’t keep his mouth shut.

This guy takes amazing care of his hair. Like, it’s not even funny how well cared for his hair is

But sometimes you wonder if there’s a brain under that hair of his

Once he considered dyeing his whole head blue like the color of his streaks and Gurjin was like “...dude no”

Picky eater

Is in love with Deet and it shows

Is also convinced that she doesn’t like him that way

Has tried a man bun once. Does not like it.

Will let Deet certain people braid his hair

Very tactile when you get to know him

Even when he’s just met you he’s a little more tactile than the average person

Gurjin

HOODIES

Out of him and Rian he’s the one that usually holds the braincell

Always keeping Rian from making stupid decisions

He and his sister both had dreads

Pretty tall

He used to fence with Rian but didn’t really enjoy it

He used to swim on the side but now it’s his main sport

Man buns man buns man buns

Rian is confused on how he can stand them

“They HURT though”

Mom friend

Shakes his head at everything

A lot of the time he gets pulled into situations he doesn’t really know about, but he helps his friends no matter what

Keeps trying to tell Rian it’s obvious Deet likes him but the attempts are ignored

Him and Brea are trying to get them to realize it but it’s sO HARD

Can cook

Brea

Obviously keeps a diary

Denies being a good artist

Also she’s one of those people that has so many books on her bedside table that they look like they’re going to fall any second

She wears knee-high socks and is into pastels

Headbands and ribbons

She can and will give everybody hugs all the time

Bakes a lot

Her and Gurjin will usually provide food

Gurjin and Brea just have a great friendship ok

Looks cute but she could really kick your ass if she wanted to

Laughs at everything

Kylan is teaching her the flute

She’s close with Kylan but at this point she only likes him as a friend and is oblivious to his huge crush on her

When she helps Deet garden, she complains about getting dirty but does it anyway

Has a vendetta against pigeons

Sometimes it feels like she never sleeps

Just a little shorter than average height

She can be surprisingly dirty minded at times and everone will be like “ *gasp* BREA” but Rian would be in the corner snickering

Seladon

Moody ™️

Great at makeup

ROCKS BLACK LIPSTICK FIGHT ME

There was a phase when she acted out and acted rude and selfish towards Brea, Tavra, and their mom but looking back on it she realized she was a butt and is trying to improve

Will sometimes help others with makeup if they need it

Goes all out at Halloween and everyone always loves her costume

Doesn’t like when other people touch her

Awkward hugger

She’s, like, the top of her class

Queen of sarcasm

She’s insecure about herself but Tavra always supports her

Has a soft spot for Tavra

Gets discouraged very easily

Morning person

Does ballet and wants to dance professionally

Deet

Deet is pretty short compared to the others

Everyone always uses her as an armrest and surprisingly she’s fine with it

She’s newer to the group but everyone just fell in love with her like effective immediately

Now it’s like she’s been there all along

Also tactile (but not as much as Rian)

She wears overalls a lot

Gardening is her passion

Dirt under her nails all the time, which annoys Gurjin and Seladon to death

Smells like flowers

Everyone loves her baby brother

He can be a bit of a gremlin though

She loves hats

Sunhats when she gardens

She’s, like, the sweetest person

Absolute cinnamon roll

The entire group agrees that they must protect her at all costs

Can be savage on accident

Will send memes to everyone at ungodly hours

“Deet it’s 2 am why are you still up”

Also vegan

Loves animals and doesn’t understand why Brea hates pigeons so much

Fell HARD for Rian

Kissed him on the cheek once but he thought it was because they were good friends

Loves to braid Rian’s hair

Also fun fact but her dads are 100% the people to say “if you don’t have something nice to say then don’t say anything at all”

But Deet always has something nice to say so she’s good

Tavra

Chugs Respect Woman Juice ™️

Her and Onica have like the cutest relationship ever

She’s like the cool aunt

Does martial arts and will not be afraid to kick your face off

Would do anything for her sisters

Is always disappearing to places with Onica

By now everyone’s used to it

Can see into your soul

People always go to her to talk/rant because she always listens and gives good advice

Sticks up for Seladon no matter what

Kylan

Music prodigy

He has a humongous crush on Brea

Wears polo shirts

Flautist flautist flautist

The only thing he can make is soup

And he’s good at soup

Everyone loves his soup

Quieter than most of the others

Kids love him

Astronomy buff

Also loves folk tales and mythology

Meditates

Brings his flute everywhere. Sometimes it looks like he has no space to even old his keys but WHOOP there’s the flute where did he even-

Believes very strongly in the supernatural

Naia

General badassery

Tall like Gurjin

Also a swimmer

Skeptical and always questions Kylan

Does not give a damn what you think

Leather jackets

When she laughs she laughs LOUD

Doesn’t realize how STRONG she is

Muscles for days

Eats like a monster

#the dark crystal #aor #age of resistance #the dark crystal aor #rian #brea #deet #kylan #gurjin #naia #seladon #tavra #stonegrot #kylan x brea #tavra x onica #onica #headcanons #the dark crystal headcanon

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raleigh-ocean · 5 years ago

Text

i found you (who i thought i'd lost) | rowan ramírez & raleigh ocean

Summary: He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, where all that confidence that he built during years went as they were driving towards the Robichaux’s Academy. But for a second, he closed her eyes and remember the smile his mother gave him in one of those last moments of clarity she had before passing away, and it gave him courage enough to finally find what his ten years old self had been yearning twelve years more: someone that was actually home.

words: 6,531

n/a: They deserve to find each other and rebuild their family, period.

His hands were quick to check again if his vest was well placed, to smooth every wrinkle that could have possible appear in the ride from aunt Abigail's house. He was still getting used to not wear his uniform and more adequate clothes, so he felt strange wearing such outfit.

"You crooked your collar, honey," his aunt's gentle hands went to fix it for him and he felt how the weight on his shoulders eased a bit.

"If you keep being this nervous, I'm afraid you'll pass out as soon as we are in their doorstep," Behold barely pulled down his sunglasses to look at him. "And you'll sweat your new suit."

"Sorry, si...Behold," it was hard to not address the man as usual, but he was getting there. "It's just that...what if she doesn't likes me? What if she thinks I'm a fraud and came to hurt her even more?"

Abigail looked at Behold when the boy, her sweet boy, looked down to his new shoes. All this new apparel only made him look like a child on adult clothes. The other man in the car sighed loudly and put a hand on his thigh, reassuring, like a father about to give his son a good advice. Facing his hand upwards, he waited for the boy to place his there, and when he did it Behold just gathered his magic to give him more strength.

"Then she will miss how good you are, Rowan," it made him smile, trembling a bit, but seeing him like that was better than seeing him reduced to the little boy that Abigail brought to Hawthorne when he was barely twelve. "But taking in count you two exchange emails and she picked you personally among other warlocks to teach, I think she would at least listen to you."

"She still thinks I'm trying to seduce her or something," the three of them laughed at that, because Rowan had told them as much.

The joke made the air in the car to soften, his worries stopping from making his magic move a bit wildly. And from then, the ride kept its calmness till they finally arrived.

It was nice to see their sisters lived in such... beautiful place. He wished for a second for Hawthorne to be like that again, because he had seen its better days before everything went underground for their safety. And maybe, in the future, he could say something to reborn their school in a nicer place. His eyes not only went to both manors, because they could only be called like that, but to the biggest protection enchantment he ever saw. The magic lattice called him, as if it was reclaiming him in some way, and his magic moved slowly towards it as if it was the Hamelin's flautist.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Roro," his aunt managed to pull his focus away from it and it tingled against the skin of his neck something similar to static. It wasn't a sweet sensation, was a dangerous one, full of 'come and see what I have', making the hairs in the back of his neck going up.

"If we manage to come in," Behold had been looking at the same Rowan did, and now was more serious than he saw him since they left Hawthorne. "We can't touch that fence without probably be back in San Francisco on a box or just by the seer force of the magic."

"Why don't you just ring the bell?"

Rowan didn't have time to actually stop her aunt and Behold was too dumbfounded about her being acting so...natural about the whole thing. But when Abigail touched the button, it didn't happen anything but the mere sound of the bell. And it hit him that, even when her aunt knew about magic...she wasn't a witch at all. She had been aware of it because her family had been one of the few that actually came from the witches of Salem, her mother being the last witch before Mallory was born, halting his aunt and his aunt's children generation.

Mallory, his cousin, which he didn't see in person for at least seven years.

They waited for a second, watching closely in case the magic bubble that protected both houses did something, but the only thing that happened was the fence opening for them.

Once they were in the grounds, Rowan started to feel like he shouldn't be there. Not because he regretted his decision to come, but because it felt like his magic didn't belong there and was a frightening experience, as if they place didn't want him at all. Rowan wondered, curious mind as always, if the witches felt the same when they went to Hawthorne. Did his sister felt it? And what about the Supreme?

But it all had to wait in his head, because there was figure waiting in the doorsteps for them.

Rowan recognized her face because he had seen her in Mallory's social media, however her name escaped his thoughts. The red headed woman with the cane - and the dog, a very large dog that was by her side in such protective way that he wondered if the animal would bite them if they tried to put a hand on the woman - arched one eyebrow upon seeing them and when they reached her, she talked with easiness.

"Goode didn't expect you until Friday," there was a bit of confusion in her words, but it didn't made her voice waver.

"Our schedules allowed us to come a day earlier," Behold talked to her in light manner, shaking her hand in a short movement. "How have you been Wilhemina?"

"Sweetheart! So long since we saw each other," his aunt Abigail launched forward and enveloped the woman in her arms, without caring a bit about how uncomfortable the sudden burst made her. "I have to give an earful to that rascal, you and Raleigh have to come more often for tea."

He was paralyzed while the greetings were exchanged, not knowing what to do except exchanging glances with the dog, which seem happy by the way its tail hit rhythmically the porch's floor. The dog got up when Abigail gave it some cuddles in its big head and Behold tried to avoid it because it had drool falling from its mouth, but then it approached him as if it knew him from forever and hit his knees with his big body, trying to get some more cuddles.

"Who's a good boy," he mumbled, scratching its head and receiving a head butt in the right thigh and a low bark. "Yes, you totally are…"

"Sidonia, here," Wilhemina called the dog suddenly and she obeyed gladly without missing a bit. "I'll walk you to the office, Goode is a bit busy this afternoon but I'm sure she'll receive you right away. Kyle, come here and help them, please."

A boy not older than Rowan himself approach them shyly yet surely, reaching for their luggage. For him and Behold, for sure, the boy - Kyle - reeked of magic that wasn't his, as if it was part of him in some way. It creeped him out but decided not to think more about it, only smiling at him politely. It made him more nervous, however, to know that he was following his sister-in-law in order to know his actual sister. He couldn't help himself to look at the way she presented herself and wonder, again like his whole life, that he now knew why his sister didn't care much about any men.

However, all that nervousness melted away when they entered finally the Supreme's office and saw such powerful woman cradling in her arms a baby while a mere toddler was listening to her reading the book the little girl held. A tender scene that was soon broken by them showing up sooner than expected.

"It's good to see miss Day's pregnancy went well," Behold said, a softer smile tugging at his lips while keeping his position after taking off his hat. "A boy this time, perhaps?"

"You really wished, Behold, he would had been hot topic in Hawthorne," Cordelia chuckled softly at that before looking at Wilhemina for a second and then to the little girl. "Sweetie, mom has work to do, I'm sorry."

"Come here, I'll give you all those dinosaur cookies you like and none of your mothers can do anything about it," was the only response the redheaded gave, getting a groan back from one of the little girl's moms and a little chirp from said girl.

But even when the bribe was there to take, the girl stood there by her mom, standing up with the baby in her arms to place her in the auxiliar crib. She looked unsure of what to do for a second and Rowan felt a tug at his heart.

It seemed she didn't want to being separated from her mother...or her baby sister.

"You better go eat them or I'll do," he found himself saying, getting the rest of the adults to look at him and making him blush madly. "I'm getting hungry."

She didn't need more, quickly making her way towards Wilhemina's waiting hand. She gave a little push to Rowan, as if asserting her will to not let him eat her cookies, and pulled a bit rougher than intended to make the woman about to taking care of her to hurry. But it was obvious that Wilhemina had her own pace, so the only thing she got was a light reprimand before both leaving the office, Sidonia walking behind them loyaly.

"I thought you'd arrive on Friday, did something happened?" Cordelia finally asked, after placing a enchantment to cover the crib in a bubble of silence - of course he knew, it was an easy one. "And why is miss Prince here?"

"I think I'll let mister Ramírez here to explain himself, he's actually the one that wanted to have a meeting with you." Behold only took a seat after helping Abigail to do the same, letting Rowan standing there while Cordelia looked at him after putting away whatever her kid left behind. "The only thing I ask you is to listen him till the end."

Okay that literally throw any courage he was building but there wasn't a way back. Cordelia sat then, patiently waiting for him to start talking, but at the same time her face showed her worry because it was obvious she never got called by a teacher just for the sake of it.

Rowan took a couple deep breaths, messing his hair back - why did he decided to let it loose instead of having in a bun like always -, and then he started before it took too long and he bored her to death.

"I called this meeting b-because...because a few months ago, I discovered something that could maybe change a life. It took me long enough to gather every bit of information and not give myself false hopes," he finally put the folder he had been holding all the way from the hall, when he took it out of his backpack, over the desk for Cordelia to see. "And now that I know for sure there's a chance, I wanted to give it a try. That's why my aunt is here," the statement made Cordelia frown and look at Abigail. "She came as a witness and another source of validation in case everything fails."

"Why would you need a witness, mister Ramírez?" asked the Supreme, taking the files in her hands to read them while talking.

"Because I was... I'm afraid she won't believe me, miss Goode," his chest got tight to that and then he decided to let her read everything he had compiled in those pages. "I don't want to hurt her more, I want the best for my...for her in fact, but I promised my mother I would find her and that's what I did once I was old enough for it," he chuckled, closing his eyes and trying to tighten his fists to control himself. "All that I had to do was gather information, in the end, because she came to me not long ago with any of us knowing anything…" Cordelia was now reading, a hand to her lips, and a dark look in her eyes. "I just wanted her to know about me, let her decide what to do with me, but if she decides she doesn't want anything to do with me, I'll just keep living my life without bothering her anymore…it was the last thing my mother wanted. For us to at least find each other."

"How is this even possible?" she mumbled, looking now at him. "The records said she didn't have any other child."

"Because Kaya didn't want your mother to know about him, not after what she did," Abigail talked then, helping his nephew. "She came to me when she was left alone after knowing about him growing in her womb," she sighed a bit louder. "And it's easy to trick those who doesn't look for someone anymore. Myrtle Snow came to see Kaya a few years later and, by that time, she had lost herself in her gift trying not only to find her daughter but because that gift was selfish like that. My mother knew about that fatal flaw, because our families had been close since a really long time ago, and after seeing myself how much grief all this brought to Kaya...well, it was only natural for me to help her. I took Rowan as my great-nephew and sent him away to Hawthorne when the time for him came."

That explanation made Cordelia to rub her forehead, wrapping her head around the situation as fast as she could so she could handle it well enough when the wave came in.

"Didn't you think it would be right to tell her right away when she came back?" there was anger in Cordelia's voice and Rowan couldn't blame her because he felt the same upon knowing his aunt kept in touch with his sister.

"It wasn't the right time yet, not for her, not for him," the feeling that there was something more behind those words grew once again, but he knew his aunt well enough to know she wasn't going to tell anything. "But now it maybe is."

Rowan couldn't help but look at his new shoes, again, with the mighty need of taking them off and throwing them away. He felt uncomfortable, he wanted to get in his other comfy clothes, he wanted to be in his room at Hawthorne fantasizing his half-sister was out there waiting for him to find her...not in front of the Supreme trying to make her see he was telling the truth.

"I don't know how is she gonna react," Cordelia's tone was sincere once she talked again and looked at him pitifully, a strange sorrow clouding her eyes. Rowan felt himself tear up, but held it together. "She's been calmer, yes, but this touch everything she protects fiercely," she stood up again, circling her desk to stand by Rowan and putting both hands in his shoulders. "I don't want to get your hopes high, but I can promise you to be there when you finally tell her."

"That's much better than the fatalism he was bringing all this time," Behold finally spoke up, letting go a deep sigh. "Take it, my boy. It's better than anything."

"When do you want to tell her?" Cordelia asked, leaning in her desk and looking at the warlocks.

"When is her lower time to avoid getting decapitated?" he joked, his body relaxing a bit just because he let some stress out like that. Rowan didn't see how Cordelia's eyes lightened up a bit upon hearing that kind of humour.

"Then dinner time, she always had been one to relax after getting food at night," Abigail took in her hands to bring more peace to the room. "Why don't we go get you some tea, sweetheart? It'll do you some good."

"And maybe afterwards you can watch some afternoon classes? I'm sure it will interest you to see how we proceed here," the Supreme proposed, looking first at Behold and then at Rowan again. "If that's alright with you."

"He isn't a student anymore, mister Ramírez here is his own persona and a teacher, that you appointed after all," the older man went back to his chair, flicking his fingers to open the door. "So go on, enjoy the visit."

Rowan knew right away they were going to talk in private about all of this, he at least knew that much. He didn't need to have the Future's Sight nor any Sight to know stuff, because his perception was different from the others. Behold had told him, once they knew he wasn't going to develop his mother's gift, that that was the only thing left from her legacy in him. A way too keen perception and insight that helped him to overcome the absences in his life.

The trip to the kitchen was uneventful, except for a few witches that looked at him weirded out yet curious, and he ducked his head out of shame and hide behind his too long hair. His aunt only needed to ask one of them if she could show her the kitchen, and there they were, getting help from Kyle to brew some tea. He didn't talk much but seemed happy to have another boy around and Rowan felt the same, exchanging some banal words with him and being patient when his speech became broken at times.

Looking around, he smiled upon seeing how peaceful and clear the place was, sipping on his tea and feeling better while he talked with Kyle about a baseball game. It was one of the only normal things he enjoyed and it was nice to have someone to talk. It wasn't that he had actual friends in Hawthorne, maybe a couple of other boys that were a bit closer, but none really appreciated him after ten years.

"...so, do you want us to go out and have dinner at your favourite restaurant?" a voice sounded suddenly in the kitchen and soon Kyle, Rowan and Abigail saw two girls holding hands and laughing together, one of them a bit taller than the other but not filling the space as the shorter one did. "I just want to have some time alo-"

"Mallory?"

Rowan felt himself warm with the mention of that name and his aunt was soon wrapping her arms around her granddaughter. He also felt how Kyle stood up and the other witch looked their way for a second too long, making the other guy in the room to go away with a mere wave of his hand for him as a farewell. His cousin didn't look at him yet but he prepared himself, standing up and fixing his clothes again to look presentable.

"You're a warlock," the unnamed girl was direct and he turned around to look directly at her. Mallory and Abigail turned to look at them too. "You weren't supposed to arrive o-"

"On Friday, yes, but we dec-"

"Roro?"

A weird satisfaction washed over him when the witch's face got pale because Mallory recognized him and the only thing that he could do was to pick up his cousin in his arms, hugging her like no tomorrow. It was easy to do it, because he was strong enough to give her a good bear hug, one of those they used to share when they were young. He didn't need someone to be hostile right now, he needed someone to reconfort him and him strength.

Rowan knew his cousin was a witch because she had been the one telling him, straightforward as she was, and he finally told her the same after years of being tired of the 'being at a boarding school' white lie.

When they broke the tight embrace, Mallory smiled at him with the might of the sun and took the other witch's hand in hers. She eased at that and prepared herself to whatever Mallory was going to say.

"Zoe, this is my cousin, Rowan Ramírez," Mallory chirped and seeing her this happy, made him feel much better. "Rowan, this is...this is my girlfriend, Zoe Benson."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, politely, while shaking hands with Zoe, which seem as lost as ever there. "Sorry for being rude, it's been a long day already and it isn't lunch yet."

However, the meeting was cut short when the back door in the kitchen opened, followed by child laughter and a few barks, along with heavy steps.

"Auntie, more cookies!"

"More cookies? You ate my last package, I'm sure your mother is gonna kill me if I give you more sugar," Rowan's eyes went first to the adult that was holding the Supreme's daughter in her arms as she weighed nothing, which probably was like that.

"More!" another chirp and the girl lifted her arms, almost taking down the woman's glasses.

"Auntie Mina and I need to have a conversation later about getting back to your mother by spoiling you," she sighed and then Sidonia barked again, seeing so many people in the kitchen but going towards Rowan at full speed and placing her big paws on his stomach. "What's going on here?"

Rowan couldn't gather any words upon seeing Raleigh in such quotidian setting. It made him feel bad for trying to meddle in the calm life his sister was living in the moment. The worst thing about all of this was discovering his sister and him were pretty much alike, now that he was seeing her out of those fucking professional clothes and just wearing comfy sweatpants and a giant hoodie matching her crocks. It scared him, more than when they met, her scar now that she wasn't wearing makeup drifting the attention from it but at the same time it brought a weird peace to him seeing her being that gentle with the little girl, who was trying to escape her arms to go with Zoe and Mallory.

He didn't heard half of the things said after that, barely letting himself be dragged and giving automatic responses to whatever was asked to him. Raleigh was quite content to see him, trying to calm the dog down so she didn't make him end up in his ass because she was strong. And he wasn’t that strong to not indulge in the way things still were.

Not only Raleigh but Mallory helped him through the afternoon, showing him all that Cordelia wanted once the private meeting between her and Behold finished it. He wrote down some new stuff he was sure would help him in his lessons, but also laugh and clapped when some of the other witches did something well. During those hours Rowan also learnt some more things about the life in the Academy: they usually made bets about things that could happen around the house, how Mallory and Zoe ended up together, how sometimes they made matches between the members of both houses for fun, how they gather a Friday a month to have movie night all of them and also how the teachers were the ones with more ongoing arguments over the silliest things.

It made him want the same good feeling in Hawthorne, even when Rowan knew they probably had some of the same dynamics between them, because after all everyone wanted to be better than their fellow classmates.

When the staff gathered for dinner, only them few, after everyone had their dinner, Rowan felt uneasy.

He sat at Behold’s left side and Mallory, invited that night only, right by him. Across from Rowan, Raleigh took seat along with Wilhemina and their aunt Abigail - their, because Raleigh also called her like that. Some people that was missing when they arrived got there in time for the food like Cordelia’s wife, Misty, and Queenie and Madison, the last one giving him a long stare before taking a seat in the other side of the table. Everyone was polite and talked as if they were part of the group, and it felt nice to be around people like that.

However when coffee arrived, Rowan knew he couldn’t wait anymore to get the big secret out of him. He looked to the Supreme for a second and she caught his intentions right away. Should he say it there, in front of everyone? At least his sister would have her people around her in case everything went terribly wrong. The family she found ready to take action and cover her in their warm arms.

“Miss Ocean, I have something to tell you,” he started to say, his hands twisting under the table because he was still sitting.

“What is it buddy?” she managed to say before getting another spoonful of chocolate ice cream, making Wilhemina to lift one eyebrow again because of her manners. “Are you gonna tell me you don’t want to be teacher anymore or something?”

He was glad she made a joke at least, because it eased his heavy heart.

“No, not at all, I’m still pretty much thankful that you gave me this opportunity,” his voice trembled a bit, but Rowan covered that with a little laugh. “It’s the true motive behind our visit, why we really are here,” his eyes went to his aunt Abigail and then Raleigh did the same for a second before placing her focus on him. “Not long ago, I discovered that…well, is difficult now to put it in words.”

“Take it easy, none is rushing you,” her voice was serene yet he knew, deep in his own soul, that she was somehow being careful.

“I’m...I’m your brother,” Rowan let it out in such strangled voice that he doubt he was heard at all, but his sister's face went incredibly pale. "It's difficult to explain, but I had done research...and my aunt here helped me. We...well, our mother asked me to find you b-but...I was really young and I didn't know what to do, and now everything-"

"Is this a joke?" her voice was so serious that it creeped him out, but his sister was now looking at their aunt. "What the fuck is this all about?"

"It's true Raleigh," Abigail said holding her stare without problem, not being troubled by how her features grew angrier each second that passed. "Kaya had him a couple years after you were gone, I not only took care of your mother till her very end but I also helped to raise him. That's why I'm here, to tell you finally the truth."

Everyone in the room was silent, almost scared to say something.

Rowan couldn't blame them at all, because all of this was nuts. It was absurd, because this kind of things only happened in movies and they were very much in the real life, even living in a world of witches and warlocks. Cordelia was getting an inquisitive look from her own wife and Behold was looking between them, his magic ready to react in case things got violent. Raleigh stood up and Wilhemina took her by the arm, fast as if she was also waiting for her to react, and muttered something to her before his sister made her lose her grip on her arm in such gentle way that made him wonder if she was angry at all.

"I was in your home, seven years ago, and you only told me she was gone long gone, lost in her Sight," Raleigh's voice trembled while turning around to look at Abigail, as if Rowan wasn't there. "And you decided to hide something like this from me?"

"You barely could take care of yourself back then, what would you have done?" Abigail didn't move from her seat but Rowan did, standing up.

It wasn't funny to suddenly feel such strong magic all over the room. He felt out of air and everyone except the only 'mortal' there as well, except maybe the Supreme that seemed to at least know things weren't going well. Rowan coughed but tried to push his own power to deflect it from the rest while Cordelia moved her own magic to gather it around the woman as a shield.

"Look, I don't want to impose on you," he managed to croak, fighting the urge to withdraw his magic because it was starting to burn in his magic conducts. "I will go away if you want it, out of your hair before you noticed, but I only wanted to at least know what my mother thought long lost was finally found."

His words did something to the woman, because suddenly the room was empty of magic again. A long deep breath from everyone sounded, recovering at their own pace, but none of them was fast enough to catch her this time. Raleigh stormed out of room and both Cordelia and Wilhemina were the first ones to react. However Rowan was the one following her, gabbling that he got this and he was going to fix it. Probably the last persona on the house she wanted to see, but he was the one putting this situation over her and he wanted to at least make it right.

It was easy to find her, mostly because the only thing she did was making a beeline towards the front door and then to the outside. Rowan took off his vest and his shows before following her, crossing the front yard and soon going out of the parcel to cross the street, where his sister was sitting in the edge of the sidewalk.

If she noticed him, she didn't show it, but Raleigh didn't stop him from sitting by her side. They shared the silence that the night gave them, looking at the enormous house in front of them. For Rowan it wasn't a weird silence, it was very familiar in fact, because he was used to his mother being wrapped in that wondering silence that he always knew was going to break once his mother told him something fun.

Other times she started to cry, expressionless, and mumbling names long gone.

And other times she just started to sing.

He could barely talk in spanish, but there was a song that he learnt by heart just from listening to his mother singing it. Rowan didn't know why, but it felt right to start singing it for his sister, maybe lacking the sentiment because he didn't have such sorrow rooted in him, and demonstrate her that it wasn't a joke. Did their mother sing it for her too when she was little? Did their mother joked around her as she used to do around him, even when she was really sick?

All those questions his inner child wondered for years arose in his mind while singing, but he felt that soon they would be buried forever in order to not hurting anymore.

Nevertheless, when he knew the song was about to end, his sister's voice started to reprise it. And the sadness, the grief long buried, the yearning, the love behind those words...everything her mother sang it with, came alive again in that calm street in New Orleans.

Rowan started to cry then, his chest hurting and his heart squeezed against his sternum, listening to the voice of the only person on Earth that was blood related to him. He cried as if he was again in his mother's funeral, he cried as that first night away from the only home he knew for twelve years, he cried with all those feelings he buried for so long to control his powers...that now where bringing rainclouds over them, starting to cry along with him while Raleigh doubled the last part of the song. And while he cried, there was a hand on his thigh, a reassuring hand that seemed to not want to leave.

By the time Raleigh stopped from singing, the rain already drenched them to the bones. Rowan was still sobbing, but he was calming down little by little in between hiccups. He recognised his sister's magic reaching for him, now warm and not asphyxiating, and he let her envelop him in it because he very much needed it. They still didn't say a word, until he managed to mumble what his heart wanted to hear.

"What would you have done if you knew about me seven years ago?"

He felt an arm over his shoulders, hugging him and making him lean his head in Raleigh's welcoming shoulder. It was comforting in an awkward way, but he didn't want it any other way.

"I would have done the same I did, that I can't lie," she was sincere, not taking her eyes off from the house. "But, at least, once everything was done I would've gone to get you out of that fucking dungeon," Raleigh laughed openly, making him giggle. "I've been in the darkness all my life, the last thing I'd have wanted is for you to live like that too."

"It's not that bad, actually, we have a really nice library," Rowan retorted, pressing his wet sleeve to his runny nose. "And it's always chilly, even in summer."

"Fucking Hell, both things I don't have here," Raleigh sounded annoyed, in a light-hearted way, and that was like a wave of relief.

Rowan didn't want that moment to end, afraid that even when they were talking like that his sister decided not to talk to him further.

"I have a lot of papers if you want to check them, to see this is not a joke," he didn't broke the contact, but couldn't help but inform her about it. "I wrote down everything aunt Abigail hid, along with things mom said and some other magic related things and-"

"I don't need that, because I do believe in you," his heart grew three sizes upon hearing those words, more tears in his eyes. "I hadn't heard that song since I was seventeen, not even now that I'm capable of doing so just by tapping something in my phone...but you singing it like that, with the same up and downs mama did...it was enough for me."

"You were the one singing it like her, I don't even know spanish to singing it well," Rowan chuckled that and it made Raleigh to chuckle as well.

"Yeah, that much I heard, we have to put a remedy to that, sweet baby Jesus," rain was still falling over them, but now it was lighter, and Raleigh held him closer to her body. "Can I ask you something, Rowan?" and Rowan only hummed in response, his sleeve again against his nose. "Was she happy before…?"

Even unspoken, he knew about what his sister was referring to. The memory came back to his mind and Rowan closed his eyes, letting the goodness of it all to come to him again. He had come home like every other day from school, but that day his aunt wasn't the one welcoming him with open arms. Kaya was there at the door, her too long hair fixed it in a braid and her lean body covered with a dress full of flowers, and her expression was so clear and lucid that her smile was able to make Rowan smile even harder. With some difficulties, she listened to his entire day while eating and they spent the afternoon watching television, Kaya holding him close to her and kissing the crown of his head every now and then. She laughed openly when Rowan had told her a story - that one thing foggy in his mind - and she told him in response about making a picnic the two of them in the backyard, so she could teach him more stories.

When the night came, his mother helped him to get ready for bed and said how much she loved him, tucking him while the shadow of her gift was trying to get her back as a selfish lover. He grew to recognize that detail, how it started to darken the rim of her eyes every time the magic was about to take her back.

But she seemed to fight against it for once, looking at him with eyes full of love and that smile she only gave him.

By next morning she was gone, but her smile was still there nonetheless.

"I like to think she passed like that, peacefully and not sad," he whispered and Raleigh sighed so deep that he could believe he heard it form in her lungs. "Aunt Abigail and I tried to make her as happy as we could."

The rain started to stop pouring over them and, as they looked at the big house Rowan could feel his sister's brain moving with million thoughts once again. She finally moved, standing up, and offered her hand to help him up to his feet. Rowan took it gladly and once he was by her side, it made him chuckle discovering they were almost of similar height but she was still beating him for a few centimetres for sure.

The main door of the house opened to reveal a worried Wilhemina, leaning on her cane, and Sidonia again by her side. Rowan didn't move because Raleigh didn't either, so they waited a few seconds more in the street, both sharing a silence they seemed to enjoy.

"I can't promise you everything will be peachy from now on," Raleigh said that in a tone Rowan didn't expect his sister to have, taking in count how big and heavy was her presence. "I still have much to learn, to unlearn, to fix and to break...but I can promise you somewhere to call home again, even if I don't know yet where is that place suppose to be."

Rowan finally saw that his sister was a sad person, but in such sadness she seemed to hide a noble heart. Many would have abandoned him in the same situation, quickly forgetting he ever existed, but Raleigh didn't. She was sincere when she said that last statement, she gave him an answer to the only question he never asked.

Would you let me in?

And for that, he was thankful and relieved. He chuckled at that, gaining an amused look from Raleigh and then they started to walk towards the Academy as if they didn't ran away at all and they were just coming back from getting something in the store.

"I'm good with that if that means you let me take a hot shower somewhere," the joke fell from his lips, easing the seriousness of the moment and showing his attitude was pretty much similar to his sister's. "Then we can keep talking about everything, if you want."

"I would love to for sure, just let's see first if Mina doesn't cut my head because I was a fucking asshole in there."

#original character & original character #american horror story #ahs coven #ahs cult #raleigh ocean #rowan ramírez

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dailynewswebsite · 4 years ago

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Michigan’s effort to end gerrymandering revives a practice rooted in ancient Athens

In historical Athens, most authorities officers had been chosen at random from amongst residents eligible to fill the positions. Philipp Foltz

Michigan has launched into an experiment in democratic governance utilizing a method employed in Athens 2,500 years in the past however little used since: the number of authorities officers by lottery quite than by appointment or election.

The 13 officers chosen by lot in August make up Michigan’s Impartial Residents Redistricting Fee. By November 2021, the group will draw election districts used to elect officers to the Michigan Legislature and the U.S. Home of Representatives.

The redistricting course of happens each 10 years, after the Census Bureau determines what number of representatives are allotted to every state. Traditionally, state legislatures have been chargeable for redistricting.

However all through U.S. historical past gerrymandering – drawing election districts to favor the political occasion that controls the state legislature – has characterised the redistricting course of.

Gerrymandering has typically been challenged in court docket as a violation of the Structure’s equal safety clause and on different grounds. However in 2019 the Supreme Courtroom held that federal courts could not hear such claims as a result of they characterize a “political query” that’s unsuited for decision by the courts.

The excessive court docket held that such points needs to be resolved by the legislative and government branches of presidency.

Seven states have withdrawn the authority to attract U.S. Home election districts from legislatures and assigned it to unbiased commissions. The procedures for choosing the members of those commissions differ, however in most states they’re chosen by state legislators or judges.

Michigan’s fee, created by a 2018 poll initiative, is exclusive. As a professor who teaches constitutional legislation and, often, historical Athenian legislation, I’m fascinated by the truth that Michigan’s seemingly novel experiment in governance relies on a course of that’s hundreds of years previous.

The 13 commissioners

Not like some other state, Michigan chosen its 13 fee members virtually totally by lot from amongst those that utilized for the place.

All Michigan registered voters who met the eligibility standards – which excluded holders of political workplace and lobbyists, for instance – had been eligible to use.

From 9,367 candidates, the secretary of state randomly chosen 200 semifinalists. The method resulted in 60 Democrats, 60 Republicans and 80 independents. By the phrases of the poll initiative, the 4 leaders of the Michigan Legislature then eradicated 20 of these semifinalists.

In August 2020, the secretary of state randomly chosen the 13 commissioners from the pool of 180 candidates – 4 Democrats, 4 Republicans and 5 independents, as required.

The fee – made up of residents with no particular {qualifications} for the workplace – will now carry out probably the most essential roles in a democratic system: creating the districts from which Michigan’s state and federal legislators will likely be elected.

Random choice in historical Athens

Except court docket juries, the random number of residents to fill authorities workplace is sort of unprecedented. However it was not all the time that method.

Random choice was a distinguished characteristic of historical Athens, the birthplace of democracy. Within the fifth and fourth centuries B.C., most essential authorities workplaces had been crammed by lottery. The Athenians thought-about this number of officers a trademark of democracy.

These included the 500 members of the Council. This physique proposed laws for the agenda of the Meeting – composed of all free male grownup residents who selected to attend and the centerpiece of Athenian direct democracy. It additionally dealt with diplomatic relations between Athens and different states and appointed the members of administrative our bodies.

These chosen by lot additionally included the 9 chief officers of the city-state, the Archons, who had government and judicial obligations. About 1,100 officers had been chosen yearly by lot, from a citizen inhabitants of about 25,000.

In response to the Athenian historian Xenophon, the thinker Socrates, who was sentenced to demise by an Athenian jury for his unorthodox views, thought that the Athenians had been silly to entrust the number of the majority of presidency officers to likelihood: No one would choose “a pilot or builder or flautist by lot,” so why belief to likelihood the number of authorities officers who, if unsuited to their obligations, may hurt the neighborhood?

The Athenians agreed with Socrates to an extent. In Athens a further 100 or so officers had been elected by the Meeting, not chosen by lot. They included the 10 generals chargeable for commanding the Military and Navy. The Athenians thought the generals’ position was too essential, and too depending on expertise possessed by few residents, to permit the selection to be made randomly.

Evaluating the Michigan plan

How, then, ought to Michigan’s resolution to assign unskilled members of the general public the job of drawing nonpartisan election districts be evaluated?

Redistricting is a posh job. Michigan’s Structure says that the districts should be drawn in compliance with federal legislation. That features a requirement that voting districts have roughly the identical inhabitants. It additionally requires that the districts “mirror the state’s numerous inhabitants and communities of curiosity,” and “not present a disproportionate benefit to any political occasion.”

U.S Consultant Dan Kildee, D-Mich., speaks exterior of the U.S. Supreme Courtroom to name for an finish to partisan gerrymandering on Oct. 3, 2017 in Washington, D.C. Olivier Douliery/Getty Photographs

Dividing the map to satisfy all of those standards just isn’t prone to be throughout the capabilities of a bunch of randomly chosen residents.

There are a number of causes to assume that the redistricting fee will however show satisfactory to the duty.

First, the structure authorizes the fee to rent “unbiased, nonpartisan subject-matter consultants and authorized counsel” to help them. Second, there’s precedent in authorities for residents who don’t have any specialised expertise: Juries composed of randomly chosen residents repeatedly determine circumstances which can be enormously difficult. An antitrust case could contain hundreds of pages of paperwork. And a patent infringement case could require an understanding of complicated engineering points.

[You’re smart and curious about the world. So are The Conversation’s authors and editors. You can read us daily by subscribing to our newsletter.]

Lastly, contemplating how far the Michigan Legislature’s efforts have fallen in need of attaining the elemental democratic purpose of choosing representatives who mirror the views of their constituents, there may be motive to assume {that a} balanced group of unskilled residents will do higher.

A 2018 report by the nonpartisan Residents Analysis Council of Michigan discovered that the state’s election districts are “highly-gerrymandered, with present district maps drawn in order that Republicans are ensured disproportionate majorities on each the state and federal ranges.”

Michigan has drawn upon historical knowledge to revamp its redistricting course of. The purpose is to allow voters to pick representatives who actually mirror their political preferences. If extra states comply with Michigan’s lead, the impression on the make-up of legislative our bodies all through the nation may very well be profound.

John Rothchild doesn’t work for, seek the advice of, personal shares in or obtain funding from any firm or group that may profit from this text, and has disclosed no related affiliations past their educational appointment.

from Growth News https://growthnews.in/michigans-effort-to-end-gerrymandering-revives-a-practice-rooted-in-ancient-athens/ via https://growthnews.in

#Growth News

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winepresswrath · 4 years ago

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You know what I just thought of? The Untamed might be how the story will be told in MDZS once a long time has gone by. Think about it: WWX didn't invent demonic cultivation but instead got the idea from more evil people, JGS and JGY were the root of all his image problems, there's evil magic metal that corrupts people rather than regular human nature - it's the perfect mostly sanitized propaganda piece with good guys and bad guys more neatly divided, which is what tends to happen to history.

I like this, but I admit that I personally fall into the camp of people that think there’s plenty of moral complexity in The Untamed. It definitely takes out or glosses over some of the darker stuff from the book, but both by virtue of its medium (visual storytelling with pretty broad acting) and because of a bunch of pretty deliberate adaptation choices The Untamed is also much more of an ensemble than MDZS, and I think giving other characters more time to establish their perspectives and motivations adds back in some of that complexity. It goes out of its way to establish that the baseline of the cultivation world is violent and unjust and all our heroes are complicit in that (that archery scene! the general attitude towards blood feuds! Mingjue in his capacity as Mr. Righteous saying that it is basically impossible for the Jiangs to owe Wen Qing and Wen Ning anything in light of what their family did to his, and in fact kind of lowkey suggesting that acting otherwise is an unfilial dereliction of duty!).

Also, everyone is 300% less repressed and the question of how Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji feel about Wei Wuxian is not supposed to be much of a mystery. This doesn’t actually make the drama more complex, but it does give it yet more room to highlight the perspectives and motives of characters who are not Wei Wuxian, which I do think makes it harder to miss the complexity. We get stuff like The Untamed putting in the work to make sure the audience understands how we get from Jiang Cheng telling Zixun to shut up or put up in front of a war room full of the most important people in the cultivation world to Jiang Cheng saying “look I agree he shouldn’t have killed members of your clans but his heart was in the right place,” to Jiang Cheng at Nightless City, not taking the “fuck Wei Wuxian in perpetuity” vow but also very much not protesting when everyone else does. Is it spoonfeeding? Maybe, but it’s also delicious. Subtlety is dead to me I only want Wang Zhuocheng’s cryface.

That being said, these may just be things I’m particularly interested in and thus paying attention to? I’ve definitely seen meta from people who came away from both the show and the book under the impression that most conflicts were caused by people being too dumb or evil to handle Wei Wuxian’s awesomeness and equating “inconvenient to wangxian” with “bad,” and I’m going to be mean and say I think the problem is less with either work and more with their reading and viewing comprehension. I am very sympathetic to the pains of having your favourite elements of a book minimized or absent in an adaptation. Wei Wuxian is definitely a lighter shade of grey, considerably less repressed, and much less of an asshole in The Untamed, and Jiggy does get a hell of a villain edit (I think he’s plenty villainous in the book! but if I was a Jiggy apologist coming to The Untamed I’d be miffed). I get being annoyed about those changes! Just, you know, Wei Wuxian does still very much torture a lot of people to death for vengeance in a story that is in large part about the role vengeance plays in maintaining the cycle of violence.

#i think robininthelaberynth is the person i saw suggest that the untamed #is how wwx would like to remember the events of mdzs #and that works for me too #like i think as good at not dwelling and moving on #as mdzs wwx is #the second flautist would HURT #and it's the sort of thing he might wish was true in a secret corner of his heart #and then there's jiang cheng's face which i love #but it would be kind of hilarious if in universe #he only looks like that to wwx #because he knows him so well and everyone else is but jin ling #is just looking at minor variations on madame yu's sneer #but yeah i really don't think the wwx of the untamed #is lacking in complexity or moral ambiguity!#he tortures (a lot of) people to death #he makes a superweapon he can't control properly and is pretty cavalier about that #he does a shit job balancing his obligations to his sect (i'm not talking jc and yanli #i'm talking all the OTHER sect members he's also ditching and sticking with the murder bill while pretending that's nbd #and they should just be chill)#he's a real dick to a lot of people #including people who love him!#he's also kind and generous and extremely heroic and very traumatized and just #a fundamentally loving person who wants the world to be better than it is #he's trying so hard in an impossible situation and he's just a baby!#and i have absolutely seen book only people #declare that wwx has never done anything wrong in his life #and not in the fun way i respect and cherish #stop saying he only murders because of his poor self esteem and love of justice #let him murder for low self esteem and justice but also rage and vengeance #and a half articulated conviction that he might as well play judge jury and executioner because he's better qualified than JGS

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womenofcolor15 · 5 years ago

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Lizzo Has All The Juice In Versace On British VOGUE's December '19 Cover!

British VOGUE knows what’s up! Lizzo is the cover star on their December 2019 issue and chick is slaying it up in Versace. See her spread and more inside…

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Making her regal debut as the star of the second of #BritishVogue’s two December covers is @LizzoBeeating. More than a musician, Lizzo is a movement. Her messages of power, positivity and self-love have earned her a cult following of millions around the world. In the December issue, the star spends time with @Miss_Zing discussing coming full circle as one of the world’s biggest solo rap artists, female empowerment and being crowned this generation’s queen of body-positive pop. Read the full interview in the new issue, on newsstands Friday 8 November. #Lizzo wears a @Versace dress, @AdrienneLandau feather boa, @Chopard earrings, @Wempe and @VerduraJewelry rings and @TiffanyAndCo bracelet. Photographed by @Kloss_Films, styled by @DenaGia and DoP @GaryBardizbanian, with hair by @YusefHairNYC, make-up by @ReneeGarnes and nails by @NailsByMarySoul.

A post shared by British Vogue (@britishvogue) on Nov 7, 2019 at 8:56am PST

Turns out, Lizzo really is 100% that b**** on the cover of British VOGUE magazine! Yassssss sis!

The “Juice” songstress (above, outside the Global Radio studios in a Burberry Puffer coat) served up Versace drip and glam on the second cover of British VOGUE magazine’s December 2019 issue. And yes, this is the singer's first VOGUE cover.

Inside, the 31-year-old entertainer opened up about embracing exactly who she is and encourages her fan base to do the same. However, when it comes to the “body positive” label, she’s cautious because some folks are using the term to cash in on a trend.

“Anybody that uses body positivity to sell something is using it for their personal gain. That’s just it,” Lizzo shared. “We weren’t selling anything in the beginning. We were just selling ourselves and selling ourselves on the idea – selling ourselves on ourselves, you know?”

Here’s what our good sis is selling:

"I’m not trying to sell you me,” she said. “I’m trying to sell you, you.”

A word.

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“I want you to know that if you can love me, you can love your goddamn self.” Born in Detroit to a religious family and raised in Texas, Melissa Jefferson, a.k.a. Lizzo’s special brand of influence act like an antidote and in today’s image-obsessed age. In her first cover interview for #BritishVogue, the star opens up to @Miss_Zing about all things fame and fortune, learning to nurture her own needs and navigating global fame. Read the full interview in the new issue, on newsstands Friday 8 November. #Lizzo photographed by @Kloss_Films, styled by @DenaGia and DoP @GaryBardizbanian, with hair by @YusefHairNYC, make-up by @ReneeGarnes, nails by @NailsByMarySoul.

A post shared by British Vogue (@britishvogue) on Nov 7, 2019 at 9:16am PST

The Detroit native (who was raised in Houston) said growing up, she never saw women or girls who looked like her in the media, so she’s using her platform to show other women and girls that there are successful women doing it up out here – no matter what they look like.

“I would watch things on television and I would look at magazines and I would not see myself,” she explained. “When you don’t see yourself, you start to think something’s wrong with you. Then you want to look like those things and when you realize it’s a physical impossibility, you start to think, ‘What the f*ck is wrong with me?’ I think that took a greater toll on me, psychologically, growing up than what anyone could have said to me.”

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“I’m not trying to sell you me, I’m trying to sell you, you.” In today’s image-obsessed age, @LizzoBeeating is a megawatt beacon of self-assurance - so utterly herself that it is impossible for it not to rub off on you. Read the full interview with @Miss_Zing and see the full story in the December 2019 issue of #BritishVogue, on newsstands Friday 8 November. #Lizzo photographed by @Kloss_Films, styled by @DenaGia and DoP @GaryBardizbanian, with hair by @YusefHairNYC, make-up by @ReneeGarnesa and nails by @NailsByMarySoul.

A post shared by British Vogue (@britishvogue) on Nov 7, 2019 at 10:02am PST

Our fave twerking/singer/rapper/flautist almost quit music the day she released “Truth Hurts,” but the song took off and put her directly in the limelight. Looking back, she said had she gained notoriety earlier, she may not have been able to handle it.

“I think if I was 21 right now, I would not be able to maintain this lifestyle without having major anxiety and panic attacks,” she told the publication. “But thank God, my journey is all about self-care and finding that love for yourself and nurturing yourself. Because that’s what artists need more than anything.”

Won't he do it!

You can read more from her interview here.

Below, Lizzo drops a few of her "firsts" during a behind-the-scenes interview for her VOGUE shoot:

youtube

Lizzo's cover hits newstands tomorrow!

By the way, all you f*** boys steer clear of Lizzo:

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Please do not send me poems, letters, or paintings if ur side bitch is still playing dress up in ur home. I’m doing great. Leave me alone, thanks.

A post shared by Lizzo (@lizzobeeating) on Nov 6, 2019 at 5:47am PST

We approve this message!

BONUS:

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Is this the coolest teacher ever or what? Dorothy Mallari, a second grade teacher, starts off her students’ day with a PG-remix of @lizzobeeating’s “Truth Hurts.” Best part? It’s Lizzo approved!

A post shared by O, The Oprah Magazine (@oprahmagazine) on Nov 7, 2019 at 9:18am PST

Second grade teacher Dorothy Mallari went viral for using some Lizzo-inspo to get her students excited for school every morning! Adorbs.

Photo: Backgrid

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2019/11/07/lizzo-has-all-the-juice-in-versace-on-british-vogues-december-19-cover

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askthenewhopespeak · 7 years ago

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On Saving Kisaragi Kazane

Looks like I made a mistake checking this blog again, but such an accusation is something that I won’t simply take quietly.

In response to the anon who said:

“Byaukua, you did everything you could, sometimes a person is so bound and determined to do something it’s going to happen, you did what you could”

* * * * * * *

Dear anon, before you accuse her, and by extension, me, of being ‘so bound and determined’, please ask yourself this. Has everything that could be used to save her been used? If someone truly cared enough to save a person’s life, wouldn’t they use everything and anything they can at their disposal? Make no mistake, having her live was an option, right up until the last minute.

Perhaps the best way to start explaining this is with Kisaragi herself. If haven’t sounded like a broken record already, Kisaragi is someone who has next to no trust in others, and someone who sees no purpose in her life, except to hurt others. Her wish in life is simple. To be of use to somebody, to bring joy to others as she was able to before. Her talent is everything to her.

Ever since she was employed by Hope’s Peak, she felt increasingly invisible and useless. The times she played the flute, she wasn’t able to bring joy to others. It did nothing to calm the chaos that was happening in the school. Of course, the fact that she was never notified about Otonashi’s origins, and the fact that what happened in the staff meeting that happened on the day of the concert was never relayed to her, made her feel like she’s unwanted. Growing up, she has always been taught that she is worthless. These things simply solidified such a belief. Her thoughts and feelings of what happened to her throughout her stay at Hope’s Peak is in the first 4 posts of the set called “Songs of the Dying Winds”.

The fight with Ootsuki was the turning point for her. The straw that breaks the camel’s back, if you will. It was how she lost her talent, the only thing she has left that keeps her going. One would think she would hate Togami for it, but she doesn’t. As opposed to sitting around at the school as a teacher with no students, she had a chance to stall for time to give the Togami siblings a chance to run with their lives. It was a chance to be of use to someone, and having that someone be her long lost friend was an added bonus. Togami Byakuya was also the first person to acknowledge her ability as more than just pretty music ever since she was hired. He gave her a chance to do something useful. She would give up everything for them, even her life. That was the mindset she went into the fight with Ootsuki with. She was fully prepared to have her life taken from her that day. Looking back, perhaps it would have been best if she died that day.

* * *

Given the above as a premise, perhaps the next step should be to explain why I believe Togami’s attempt to be insufficient.

Let’s start from why she left the hospital, Hope’s Peak, and started calling herself by a different name. She lost her purpose in life after she lost her talent. Even after months of physical therapy and treatment, her lungs are as bad as they were, if not worse, and her skills at singing and flute playing are heavily compromised. Needless to say, there is no way she will regain her past skill level. And even if she did, through Nakamura’s intervention, she was already proven unable to make others happy and calm through her music. Even worse, she’s also been proven to be unable to score a place with an orchestra with her skills alone. As a professional instrumentalist, that is a huge indicator of her lack of ability. On top of that, she was, in the past, a soloist on tour. Having an orchestra accept her via bribery, even though she was the SHSL Flautist is telling her that the classical musical world no longer wants her, and that she has no skill. That and the fact that she doesn’t want to be indebted to anybody is the reason why she rejected Togami’s offer to have Nakamura treat her. She lost her talent, yes. But even if she had it back, the result would be the same. She still has no place as a classical flautist, or at Hope’s Peak. Since she, at that point, didn’t have the courage to take her own life, she settled for letting her injuries and illness take her instead. To appease her parents, she was studying the sciences very seriously on top of pursuing the flute. She knows what could happen if her treatments stopped. So she left. She left the places where she didn’t belong, where it hurts her just to stay in, and travelled like she did during the Tragedy. She didn’t want to be found. If she was, she would be dragged back to the hospital where she was alone. That’s why she changed her name and refused to respond to her original one.

The first part of the confrontation between the Togami siblings and Kisaragi is directly related to this. Even though she left clues to her whereabouts (she doesn’t understand why she felt compelled to), she fundamentally doesn’t want anyone to find her, no matter the cost. Even if she hurts her only friend Shinobu, it’s worth it because she’s nothing but a burden to her. She lost everything. How will she ever be of use to her friend? The Togami siblings also claim that they know it’s her without anything concrete to back that claim. How do they know it’s her? There are unrelated people that look similar to each other. What makes them so sure that it’s her? Are they lying and simply grasping at straws? Nothing concrete has been presented to her to let her know which it is. On top of that, she knows that the longer she speaks with them, the greater the chance is of getting found out for real. So she walked away. And would have continued had her injuries not acted up then and there, which gave the siblings another chance to talk to her, this time as herself.

The confrontation in the hospital room opens with Shinobu being there when Kisaragi wakes up. This is what I think to be the second most effective part of the entire confrontation, relatively to the rest of the sections, of course. Her appearance shocks her. Shinobu never visited her in the last hospital she was in after the initial visit. Why would she be here? At this point, she didn’t know that she was captured. Besides, she has served her purpose to her. What more can she offer? The feelings that she admitted to having confused her. Why would anyone have feelings for her? And what were they? She didn’t understand. She has learned long ago to discard, if not suppress, most if not all of her emotions. She knows of their uses in music, but she believes that to be all that they are good for. Yet somewhere deep down, she still feels emotions. It’s something that she can’t understand. She never could. And Shinobu knows that. So to hear Shinobu herself being so unsure of her own feelings makes her believe that it could be gotten over easily. It’s weak, uncertain. Therefore it could be easily transferred to someone else, someone more deserving. Her disappearance would be just be a mild hindrance to this.

Byakuya interrupts this by appearing. Of course, Kisaragi is also shocked to see him. He further shocks her by claiming that he sees her as a friend, then admitting that part of his visit is due to guilt of her injuries being partly his fault. There are two issues with this. Firstly, as I mentioned above, she was happy to be of use to them. She never blamed the siblings for her loss, even if it is everything to her. It was for a good cause, and she never regretted it. She doesn’t understand why Togami keeps apologising for it. In fact, she should be the one apologising to them. She is still a burden to them, at least financially.

The second issue is him claiming that he sees her as a friend, then admitting part of it is guilt, then claiming that he enjoys her company. To someone like Kisaragi who has almost no trust in others, that sounds hollow and empty, completely baseless. In response to her disbelief, he maintains that what he said is true, but neglecting to back it up with anything concrete, essentially hoping or expecting her to just take his word for it. That is something she can not do, not with all the cases of lies and betrayal she has encountered. To her, Togami’s actions contradict his words. Sure, he’s paying for her medical bills. Sure, he did not fire her from her position at Hope’s Peak. But that doesn’t mean that he truly sees her as a friend. Someone who simply wanted to not have her death on their head could very well do the same. He has not done anything that could not be written off as obligation, obligation to his sister, or obligation to his conscience. An example would be that no one but Kaen and Mioda visited her after the very beginning of her stay. In fact, through her stay of 3 months in-story and 5 months real time, only 4 people visited. Mioda and Shinobu were captured, Kaen came because he was curious about how she will cope with her injuries, and Togami. Togami was the only one who visited more than once, though twice at the very beginning in the space of 3 months…one would think that friends who truly cared would visit more, at least once a month. Needless to say, her lonely hospital stay drove her to believe that what Togami was doing was simply to clear his conscience, not because he cares. The fact that he didn’t address this shows that he either doesn’t realise it, or that he didn’t think he did anything wrong, which further strengthens her belief that he is lying.

Next he tells her that he thinks she is noble. In her mind, she believes that her stalling for time is nothing special, and that it is what anyone else would have done. Additionally, he says that right after Kisaragi tells him she doesn’t believe him. Giving a compliment right after being told that she does believe him just seems like an attempt at changing the topic or an attempt at making himself seem more believeable. Knowing that he is basically expecting her to take his word for it with absolutely nothing concrete to back it up with, she changed the topic to how they knew where to look for her. Thankfully, instead of neglecting to tell her like they did before, they told her, as well as what happened during the rescue. She noted that and Togami’s response was just a promise that he will do better next time and that she can and should hold him to it. First of all, who wants to have to be the one to remind the other to tell them things that they should be told, such as the contents of staff meetings, in the first place? Secondly, such a verbal promise is pointless. Togami himself should know that better than anyone else, given he’s the head of a conglomerate. There is also the fact that she’s left Hope’s Peak. There is no next time for him to fulfill his promise. There will not be another staff meeting that he should tell her the contents of. The fact that Togami knows that she has resigned leads her to believe that he knows that there will be no cases in the future to fulfill said promise. This leads her to think that he is merely trying to fool her.

This is followed by Togami leaving to take an emergency phone call from the school, leaving Shinobu and Kisaragi alone together. Awkward silence. Kisaragi sings a lullaby, knowing that Shinobu needed to rest as much as possible. She stops abruptly, disgusted at the quality of her own voice. Shinobu reveals that she thinks it’s beautiful and her sincerity moves Kisaragi. Yet, Shinobu is not a professional musician. Kisaragi was. Kisaragi’s standards are naturally far higher than Shinobu’s. This sincerity also causes her to think that perhaps Shinobu’s feelings for her, whatever nature they are, are stronger than what she believed them to be. Such sincere preference for her voice regardless of how badly it’s deteriorated can only mean she’s biased, which requires stronger feelings towards her. Such realisation moves her. This is what I believe to be the most effective section, relative to the rest of the confrontation, of course. Yet the fact remains that she believes that she does not deserve such feelings from anyone, let alone Shinobu, because the fact remains that she is useless. She can no longer be of any real use to her friend. Such feelings are better if they were for another.

As Shinobu sleeps, Byakuya enters, explaining the phone call. He chose to stay over going back to the school which is, unsurprisingly, under attack. He also comments, after pondering for a while, that it was lovely. If it was not already abundantly clear, Kisaragi no longer believes in what he says at face value. As an ex-professional musician who studied voice as a secondary instrument, she is able to tell exactly how her voice disgusts her. The fact that Togami responded with “Lovely, I think, would be the best word to describe it.” after thinking for a moment, without any explanations on why he thinks that to be the right word, makes her believe that he is patronising her.

As a result, Shinobu is the only one she thinks of and apologises to as she prepares to take her own life. And this concludes the analysis of the confrontation with respect to why Togami’s attempts are insufficient.

* * *

Last but not least, how to save Kisaragi. As I have mentioned multiple times, saving her is difficult and requires a lot of effort, but I never said that it was impossible. It is possible. If it was impossible, she could have easily killed herself in the hospital she stayed at the first time. She had no visitors, she was already in a state of hopelessness. It would have been so easy. She had so many opportunities. There would have been no reason for this whole ordeal.

Additionally, I have mentioned a few times that almost everything Kisaragi does is deliberate. By extension, as I am her writer, almost everything I write for her is deliberate. That includes those that seem random at first glance, such as the music she leaves behind, the places that she visits on her journey, and what she does at said places. Of course, that means they can be used to save her. In fact, they should be used to save her.

Let’s start with how to get her to admit she’s Kisaragi Kazane and not Kizuki Shizuka like she claims to be.

One way is by using what happened at the shrines she visited, particularly Ise Jinguu. She participated in three festivals as part of a Kagura ensemble, as their substitute kagurabue player. Though her cover wasn’t blown during her stay, the original fue player, Noguchi, recognised the sound of her playing, albeit on a different instrument and at a far lower level than he remembers. If someone was sent to the shrine looking for her, they could very well encounter the ensemble. Noguchi in particular admires Kisaragi’s music. He would be saddened to hear that she is missing and would agree to help identify her. This is especially so if the person sent to the shrine had a picture of her or a recording of her playing, even scores of her music. Conflicting accounts between Noguchi and the rest of his ensemble members would lead to confusion, as well as realisation that perhaps Kisaragi Kazane and Kizuki Shizuka are one and the same. The chief priestess also heard her offering kagura at the Kaguraden. It is not specified which piece she played, but given her perfect memory of her own compositions, she could very well be playing one of her own compositions, for which the sole copy of the score is at Hope’s Peak. It is very likely that the chief priestess will be able to identify which piece she played, and thus identifying that Kizuki Shizuka is in fact Kisaragi Kazane. So doing something like having Noguchi or the chief priestess be with the Togami siblings during the confrontation will blow her cover right off.

Another way to blow her cover is using the shinobue that she has. She was a critically acclaimed professional flautist. Her flutes are naturally all of very, very high qualities. That is why they could be sold to the right people for very large sums of money. The flute that she has on her, her shinobue, is also naturally not a fue that a regular player would have. That extends to the case too. Shinobu has been close to her since their days as students. It is not a stretch to think that Shinobu could identify her flutes. This also serves to demonstrate how much Shinobu cares about Kisaragi.

Other ways include, but are not limited to, using those unsuspecting poor souls who heard her playing at Suntory Hall, anyone who listened to her play at Fujisan Honguu Sengen Taisha, the high priestess at Tenkawa Dai-Benzaiten Tensha. The people at the hostel she stayed at while she was sick in Tenkawa could also be used to identify her.

After she is forced to admit she’s Kisaragi Kazane, the next step would be to convince her that she is still useful, that she still can bring happiness to others, that there is still purpose to her life. There are many ways to achieve this. Take the people at Fujisan Honguu Sengen Taisha, for example. The miko would not be sent to ask her to play at a festival for them if they did not believe her skill to be good enough. This is further stressed upon at Ise Jinguu. Her results with the ensemble at the 3 festivals they played for aside (the first of which is an extremely important festival), she was asked to play for them in their Autumn Kagura festival, a huge festival, by the chief priestess no less. These are irrefutable testaments to her skill and her ability to be useful.

Another method is to show her that her true ability is not lost. The SHSL Flautist title is in fact inaccurate. Her true ability is to invoke and manipulate emotions in others through music. The flute, her voice, her compositions are simply mediums used to achieve this. Every single piece of music she has ever written can be used to prove this point. If the Togami siblings heard any of her compositions, which they probably should have, they would be able to use this against her, as well as realise just how much she has suffered. In particular, the second movement of the piece she left by the graves of 77-A shows that she is able to invoke happiness in others. Such is the case for the first and fourth movements of the same piece. If the Togami siblings listened to the pieces, they would be able to tell her what emotions were invoked in them. If they match her intentions in composing them, then that will let her realise that her true ability is not gone. Again, these are just one of many ways that could be used.

The next thing to prove to her is why she is an irreplaceable existence. This is where Shinobu comes in, as the only friend she has who is still alive. There are many things she could have done to show her how important she is to her, or how afraid she is of losing her. Explaining what she meant when she said “one of the three reasons (she) endured hell is rendered completely moot” would be an excellent thing to do. Explaining to her what her feelings for her are, how complex they are. Not giving up when she refuses to admit she’s Kisaragi. When lulled to sleep, she could do things like mutter “Kazane don’t go” or something to the same effect, or hold Kisaragi’s hand while she sleeps. Even being woken up as Kisaragi moves to the window could work.

As for Togami, he could first apologise for not visiting her in the previous hospital she was at, despite claiming to consider her a friend and claiming to enjoy her company. Next, he could actually tell her the truth behind Otonashi and what transpired at the staff meeting. All these actions would tell her that he is indeed sorry. He could also explain to her why he thinks her singing is lovely.

Another method to get her to stay, albeit cruel, is to use her brother, her teacher, her deceased classmates, her crush, against her. “What would your brother/teacher think if you gave up? Would you have them die for you in vain?” or something similar is very effective. Identifying the last movement of the piece she left at the grave as her confession to Murasame is also effective. “What would Murasame think if you gave up? Ghosts exist. He could be watching you.” or something similar would get her to at least stop and think about it.

The above are just some of many ways to save her. It involves effort, a lot of it, but if she was simply able to be convinced to not take her own life with mere apologies and compliments without anything to back them up, then she is a hypocrite.

* * * * * * *

I hope the above sufficiently explains why Togami’s attempt to save her is, to put it lightly, insufficient. I also hope that the above sufficiently shows how it is possible to save her.

If there are things that I can clarify with regards to Kisaragi’s death, please do not hesitate to contact me directly.

- Mod Kazane

#kazane kisaragi #danganronpa #submission #iceaquasoul

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kaytewrites · 8 years ago

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the quick release || masquerada: songs and shadows || chapter 2

also on ao3!

The next week passes like this:

Tristan wakes in the morning, generally to one of the Sorelle (most often Kalden) nudging him awake with a bowl of light, bland oatmeal. He eats as much of it as he can stomach (not a lot) and makes polite conversation as they check in with him (he’s making steady progress, they tell him, but he can’t leave quite yet) and tries to smother his stutter as best he can.

When they leave, he quietly summons his mascherine. Sometimes, he just looks at it, smoothing his hand over its surface and wondering: who were you? Did you ask for this? Will I ever speak to you properly?

Sometimes, though, he puts it on and thinks of ice, of water, of cold and time.

The first time he tries it, he damn near almost gives himself a heart attack with the panic that floods him, the memories of falling and ice and pain that make his missing limb spasm and ache without relief. Kalden finds him not an hour later, biting his lip bloody to keep from yelling and alerting anyone.

Kalden eases him down from his panic, guiding him to “Breathe, Tristan. Easy now. Breathe with me.” until he didn’t feel like the world was collapsing and his arm didn’t feel like it was being cut off all over again. Kalden looks at the mascherine on his face with a soft accusation, and warns him against using it until he feels better.

He keeps using it, simply because it’s the only thing that makes him feel like he’s at least doing something . He just makes sure he keeps quiet.

In the afternoons, he gets a visit from Vasco - never longer than an hour, but never shorter, either. Vasco doesn’t make him speak, but engages him in idle conversation. Whenever Tristan has a question or a response, Vasco makes him say it. It’s infuriating, but it’s an effective enough speech trainer. Sometimes, he’ll make him repeat himself, making Tristan irritable, but even he’s surprised by the progress he’s made in a week’s time.

One day, Vasco is an hour late for their meeting; they’ve never set a time, but Vasco always appeared around the same time everyday. Tristan sneaks a glance at the clock, confirming the thought.

So, Tristan holds his hand out in his lap, thinks about waves, and feels his mascherine settle in his palm. He’s always loved the thing, the bright red and silver lines edged in gold. He grips it tight, feels the material of it flex in his hand, and lifts it to his face -

- Ice, and cold, and fire, and he isn’t sure how the fire fits until he feels his arm burn white-hot-painful under the maskrunner’s steel, and his head is already fuzzy-hot with static and pain, but he can’t stop, he can’t stop, he’s falling to his knees but he needs to keep moving, Cicero needs him, the Citte needs him, the Citte-

“Tristan!”

There’s a hand on his shoulder, the one missing its arm, and he focuses on the weight, feeling his heartbeat in his throat.

“Tristan, can you hear me?” He’s shaking too hard to nod properly, but he thinks they understand because they don’t repeat the question. There’s a blur of purple movement on his right side, a smear that coalesces into a human form that eventually becomes Vasco. “Breathe, Tristan. Can’t have you dying on me now.”

He would laugh, if he didn’t feel like that is exactly what’s happening. He grips his left hand tight, hard enough his fingernails bite half-moon crescents into the skin of his palm.

“V-v-v-v-v-” He tries, but the words won’t come out right, and he can barely breathe as is.

“Don’t try to speak. Just breathe, Delzole. In and out, that’s it.” Vasco doesn’t touch him beyond the hand on his shoulder, and he doesn’t know whether to be grateful or to weep.

Eventually, the shuddering breaths subside, and Tristan lets his fist unclench, wincing at the blood that wells in each of the little cuts. Vasco tutts lightly, his hand moving from his shoulder to grab Tristan’s own. Regret fills him at the loss of contact, but he bites it back - the less he feels right now, the better. Vasco’s flautist’s fingers examine his palm carefully, clinically, grabbing a cloth from a drawer in the bedside table and wiping away the little red specks with a gentle hand.

“Now, what brought that on?” Vasco asks softly, his voice sounding a beat away from a laugh but no less genuine in its concern.

Tristan takes a moment to breathe again, and then another, and finally speaks. “T-the w-w-water is not always k-k-kind.” He can’t quite meet the other man’s eyes, and so he settles for watching his hands instead.

Vasco does laugh, a soft huff of a thing. “I suppose not, hm, Valencio? You’d know better than most.” He sees Vasco’s fingers twitch towards his mascherine, a half-aborted movement caught too late.

Tristan’s hand moves to his face, the mask that still rests there. “W-will I ev-v-ver u-use this ag-gain?” He pulls the mask from his face gently, stroking the red inlay with his thumb. His voice is far more sad than he’d like. He doesn’t want to give Vasco any more fuel for his backhanded comments and petty jabs.

Instead of responding, Vasco simply summons his own mascherine to bear, letting it rests in his hands. Purple and red play within golden borders, making swooping lines and deep impressions in the mask itself. It’s a playful mask, one suited to a man like Vasco, and it makes Tristan’s mouth sour with regret.

“I still don’t know her name,” he says. His voice is dangerously soft, filled with a vulnerability Tristan doesn’t think he deserves to hear, but Vasco keeps speaking. “I don’t know if I ever will. Maybe she doesn’t know it, either.” He looks up at Tristan, and Tristan finds his eyes inexorably drawn towards Vasco’s, as well. “Everything doesn’t become suddenly clear because we’ve Salted. It just means we have another set of memories in our heads. Incomplete, fallible, and just as human as the men who hold them.”

Vasco’s mouth cracks into a smile. “I know, surprisingly deep for a man of so many jests. Feel free to hold your applause.”

Tristan smiles despite himself, the panic in his chest almost forgotten. “N-not that surprising, Tessit-t-tore.”

“I’ll have you know I spend a lot of time cultivating my happy-go-lucky attitude, thank you, and I’ll not have you squander all that hard w-work.” He points threateningly at Tristan, but there’s no heat in his words.

Tristan laughs, bright and clear. He’s glad he hasn’t forgotten how to do that, at least. Vasco pouts for a few seconds longer before dismissing his mascherine with a smile. Tristan does the same, letting it fade to a shimmer in the air.

“I wonder where they go when we aren’t using them,” Vasco wonders aloud, and Tristan shrugs. “Do you think the fey would know?” Another shrug. “Gah, you’re useless.” And another.

Vasco finally gives up on trying to get Tristan to speak again. Honestly, he’s feeling exhausted by the whole ordeal. He already can’t sleep at night. He doesn’t want his nightmares chasing into his waking hours, and if that means never using his mascherine again - never using any mascherine again -

Well. He’ll handle that when the time comes.

Vasco flops backwards on the bed, laying horizontal on the foot of it, his feet still touching the ground. He’s more lax around Tristan than he’s ever been before, and Tristan can’t say he minds it.

“Have you spoken to Cicero about it?”

Tristan shakes his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

Tristan looks down at his hand again. “I d-d-don’t s-see him of-t-ten.” It’s easier to say than I don’t deserve to see him.

“If you asked for him, he’d come.”

Tristan shakes his head. “Don’t want t-to bo-bother him.”

Vasco sighs. “You’re both idiots, then.”

Tristan jabs Vasco in the side with his toes. He winces and glares up at Tristan. “I’m not wrong! Y-you’re both doing nothing but moping around. Very sad, really.”

Tristan just sighs. Vasco does the same.

He spends the rest of his time answering Vasco’s inane questions (”What’s your favorite color?” “B-blue.” “What’s your favorite drink?” “Lemonade.” “What’s your-”) before Vasco hops up from his reclined position and darts out of the door with barely a goodbye.

Tristan doesn’t have it in him to be mad. He’s already half-asleep, anyway. He stays awake long enough to drink a few spoonfuls of the broth the Sorelle nurse brings him for dinner before falling asleep. He dreams of a cathedral, impossibly large, and of a sea dark as night, filled with stars.

The next day he wakes, it’s to a hushed argument in low tones outside of his door. He wakes almost irritable at the intrusion, sure it’s far too early to be woken, but a glance at the clock on the wall tells him he’s actually slept in much later than he usually does. He rubs at his eyes and catches snippets of the conversation that drift through the door.

“-should talk to him, Cicero.” That’s Kalden’s warm rumble, barely perceptible through the door for its baritone depth.

“And say what? That I’m glad he almost died for me? That he’s another person who had to sacrifice himself for me, just so I could-”

“Cicero.”

“It’s true, Kalden, no matter what you say, alright? I don’t think - I don’t think he wants to see me, anyway.” Cicero sounds hurt when he says it, and Tristan is half a second away from calling out for him before Kalden speaks again.

“We’ve had this discussion a thousand times, Cicero, and I’ll always tell you the same thing: we followed you because you are worth following, Cicero. We could never leave you behind. We all knew what we were getting into.”

There’s a moment of silence then, and when Cicero speaks, his voice sounds muffled, as if pressed against cloth. “Thank you, Kalden. You’re too good for me.”

A chuckle. “You’re right, I am.”

Cicero’s voice sounds mock-hurt through the door. “You rude oaf! I ought to-”

He’s cut off suddenly. Kalden is the next to speak, and his voice sounds rougher, deeper, just barely audible through the door. “Doesn’t mean I won’t stay by your side.”

There’s an exchange of words he can’t hear, and then the click of the door. He’s just quick enough to pretend to still be waking, scrubbing at his eyes with his hand again and shoving himself upright.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Cicero seems to barely hold back a laugh as he enters, Kalden just a step behind him. Cicero moves toward the chair on his left, almost unsure, before Tristan sighs and pats it with a grin. “How are you?” he says as he settles into it.

“Fine, I th-think.” Tristan shrugs. “Hav-ven’t died y-yet, so I m-m-must be doing someth-th-thing right.”

Kalden settles on the only other bed in the room, just behind and to the right of Cicero. “Good. You seem to be recovering steadily, as well. I think you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Maybe within the week, if all goes well.”

Tristan nods, pleased to hear it. His recovery from Salting has mostly been mental; most of the bedrest has been from being encased in ice for the better part of a month. He can feel his strength return in strides, though he’s not excited about the prospect of limping around like an invalid for a few months while he remembers how to walk again.

“Tristan…” Cicero starts, and there’s something in his voice that makes him think this conversation won’t be quite as easy as he was hoping. Still, he knew it was coming. It had to happen sooner or later.

“Y-yes, Cicero?” He does his best to sound fondly exasperated.

Cicero gives him a weak little half-smile, but it fades as he continues. “I don’t think we ever really talked about what happened, did we?”

Tristan remembers a quick, uncomfortable conversation made in the rush of impending battle, remembers setting aside his feelings about duty and honor to try and mend what he could between their broken trust, remembers hugging Cicero tightly with both arms and promising to have his back ‘just like old times.’ It was what they needed to get through the night, one neither of them thought they’d both truly survive.

Tristan sighs deeply, leaning against the pillows piled behind him. “N-n-not much to s-say, Cicero.”

“That’s a lie, Tristan, and we both know it.”

“Is it?” he counters. “We b-both know t-t-too much has happened. I don’t regret w-w-what I did. Neither should y-you.”

Cicero is silent for a long moment. “I wish it could be easier.”

Tristan grins. “N-nothing easy is ever w-w-worth it.”

He’s suddenly reminded of what Vasco told him a week before: ‘ He died. I wouldn’t joke about that. ’

Cicero must notice his change in demeanor, because it’s not but a few moments later that he’s asking, “What’s wrong, old friend?”

“Vasco t-told me s-something.” He doesn’t know a delicate way to say it, so he doesn’t try. “D-did you really die, Cicero?”

Cicero pales, and Tristan knows instantly it was the wrong thing to say. Kalden, instead, speaks for him. “He did, yes. We’re not sure why or how he’s back, but he is. We think it was fey.” He lists it off like a grocery list, and Tristan nods.

He also notices the way Cicero’s hand seemingly absently searches out Kalden’s own, and Kalden takes it without even looking down. He files that away as a question for another day - he’s already asked enough.

“G-guess that’s another t-thing we have in com-m-mon now, eh, Cicero?” He says, nudging him with his elbow. Cicero breaks out of his reverie and laughs a little, just once. Not perfect, but better.

“I suppose so.” He flashes Tristan a smile. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure Vasco will be here soon, and he’ll probably yell at me again about interrupting ‘very important tutelage of the h-highest calibre.’”

Tristan nods. “And I’m sure the h-hero of Ombre has pl-plenty of duties to attend, hims-s-self.” He waves his hand at the door, shooing them out. “Go on, out of h-here.”

Cicero is laughing as he leaves, giving Tristan a wave. His other hand is still holding Kalden’s as he leaves.

Vasco shows up at his normal time an hour later, and if he notices that Tristan is more quiet than usual, he doesn’t comment on it.

#masquerada: songs and shadows #masquerada songs and shadows #masquerada #tristan delzole #vasco tessitore #the quick release #the quick release chapter 2

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kingofthewilderwest · 8 years ago

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Note: This personal vent post (though it’s about my own current personal Stuff) contains massive Mass Effect 3 spoilers.

I’m a bit of a latecomer to the Mass Effect franchise... played the first game at the end of 2015 and the second at the start of 2016. I decided to play the full trilogy in anticipation of Andromeda’s release, and I finally had the opportunity to purchase and play ME 3 for the first time these last two weeks. I knew about a lot of the spoilers, but it’s still profoundly impacted me, and made me feel something more deep, unsettling, real, and pressingly painful than the typical recreational feel I get with a bittersweet story. This hurts.

There are a number of reasons it hurts, but the thing that hurts me most is Mordin’s story. I think it’s the best character story hands down in the Mass Effect trilogy - I could talk for a long time about that freakishly amazing characterization and retribution arc. But the point is that Mordin’s story HURTS MAJORLY because, even though I love it, I relate too much to it.

I’m not the same as Mordin, but I found a lot of... identity comfort... and an ability to relate... to the character. I can relate to the hyperactive mind constantly doing ninety side projects. I can relate to dabbling in a lot of different areas... where he might be creative writing, music, theatre, genetics, and the like, I’m things like creative writing, music, linguistics, philosophy, theology, and the like. I can relate to using data and logical analysis as the point of choice over other factors to the point it’s ridiculous. I can relate to being outwardly smooth and confident about my choices while inside being eaten away by what I’ve done. I’ll even admit I can relate to his eyebrow-raising ethics. I can relate to ever wondering if I made the right critical choice. I can relate to being introverted but willing to converse or open up, relate to loving the sciences and the arts, relate to not being the best at socializing or showing it but still obviously caring about the people in my care. Screw it, even the asexuality thing. I guess the whole point of this rant paragraph is that I can find a lot of excitement, happiness, and comfort in Mordin’s character because I can relate to it.

And I can relate to the... success thing... I guess. The great, esteemed Doctor Mordin Solus. Pretty important guy. When he was at the top of his game working with the STG on the genophage, he had top secret clearance, worked with the best resources and team, had an extremely active life filled with excitement and companionship, and found it satisfying. I’m not trying to sound cocky or anything... but I had those years, too. Not quite as monumental, but still... that sense of self-confidence and everything going right around me and being successful? Yeah that was there. High school years, especially senior year - first chair All-State Orchestra flautist, highest GPA valedictorian in the school’s 120 year history, soccer player on the best team in the league, all sorts of awards and recognitions coming my way, great friends to stay by me... I was the TOP and I knew it. And I was thrilled and I loved it.

But life goes forth, and as it does, the consequences of our actions catch up to us. The year 2011 started as my best year. It ended horribly and led to a terrible 2012. I don’t need to explain what happened, except that things came crashing down on me everywhere. Everywhere. And over the course of the last five years, I continued losing. I couldn’t even stay in a PhD program because my depression took too hard of a toll on me for me to stay engaged (I will NEVER return to that program).

So here I am, in the middle of nowhere, some no-name graceless location, feeling like the rest of my life is going to be spent here.

Mordin’s story felt so real. After he left Omega, though, with the sleepless nights and the spiritual soul-searching... he made a comeback. Entered the Collector base. Worked with the STG again to help ‘Eve’. Even created a cure for the genophage to undo that which gave him so much ethical struggling in the first place.

I want that so badly. To get out of this mire of uselessness I’m currently in, where I sit around like a lump of potatoes doing nothing important at all, not even getting decent human contact. To get back to a state where I can be productive and impactful again.

But while there are some moments that Mordin’s story can inspire me... Mass Effect 3 also crumples me.

Fuck it, that was one of the big things that got spoiled to me before I played the game anyway. I KNEW that Mordin was going to die (yeah yeah I know there’s a way for him to live, but that requires some hoop jumping I hadn’t done). I knew that the Renegade route was literally you shooting him right then and there. I managed to piece together a lot of the rest because plots are predictable - I predicted it had to involve some sort of betrayal, that it involved the genophage, that it likely involved some sort of retribution arc where he created the cure, that it’d be a Kobayashi Maru. But I still bawled when I saw him in my Paragon route implement the cure.

I’ve never been NUMBED and... sort of traumatized... by a character death before. In truth, I tend to adooooore these things. And I STILL will argue with you guys for centuries to come that this scene on Tuchanka is the most incredible and impacting moment in the entire ME franchise. Fight me. So I do adore it. I can’t stop thinking about it. But I *did* legitimately feel horribly, painfully numbed for two days after seeing the Paragon death with my own two eyes from my own actions in the game. It’s like I was literally mourning a real being.

Yes, I know that they write characters really well, and that Mordin was extraordinary writing even on top of that. But it wasn’t just losing a fictional character that I’d attached to. It was.......... somehow, somehow... hitting at the struggles I’m currently in. And basically telling me my life was going to explode. Whatever I do, it’ll end in a “death” - maybe I’ll accomplish something, but it’ll be my end.

I’ve been terrified since leaving the PhD that I am at a dead end. That I’m not going anywhere, that I *can’t* go anywhere, that I’m stuck in a stasis no matter how hard I fight to get something better. That I’m going to be in dead end jobs with no progression and little companionship and no sense of satisfaction. That I’ll never again feel the thrill of what it was to tackle academia in my heyday. Where getting a Masters and three Bachelors and a Minor and a Certificate in four fucking years from a university was TOTALLY doable with an extremely high GPA and a bunch of awards and scholarships and.... where I could LIVE and be in my element. I’m afraid I’ll never get that sense of element again. That I’ll just be in something lackluster, unfulfilling, unappealing. I’m afraid I’ll never leave Omega and never be able to get that peaceful night’s rest. And I’m afraid that even if I make it to Tuchanka and reach the top of the Shroud... I’ll just get shot down... and never get the returned fulfillment in my life I wanted.

Mordin surviving in ME 3 requires two bad decisions to be made in the previous games, and frankly, while it does mean he lives, it’s not a satisfying ending so much from a storytelling perspective. The story was MEANT for him to die. And it just comes as a crushing blow to me... making me feel as though my story is meant to die. I’m not saying literally - I’m not saying me dying - but me having any good experiences in life dying. No matter what I do, whether I’m shot in the back or not... it ends.

Sometimes I can look at the scene and feel inspired. I can see how fucking nervous he was to implement the cure. How he took those attempted deep breaths, how he hummed under his breath to try to comfort him as the tower was falling apart around him, how we could see how scared he was that the next fiery blast would be the one that took him out. That’s inspiring and amazing, to see someone be brave and do things despite them not feeling brave. To see him make that successful redemption in the Paragon route and become a hero that will be sung about in the generations to come (ballads about him! theatre kid Solus would feel so honored), to see that the first born krogan prince is named after him... I mean, that IS the story of a hero. That’s inspiring.

But so often what I just feel is....... a sense of loss. A loss of *me*. That I’m lost and never coming back.

And that’s not quite it either. But I don’t have the words for what I’m feeling or why I’m feeling it or why some stupid instance in just a video game (albeit a very good story) is hitting me so hard. Usually I’m like, soaking into dramatic death scenes. They’re my catharsis, weird as it sounds. I seek out recreational pain so that I can get a sense of emotional relief in my own life. But this? This was raw pain. I’m so happy I experienced it, but at the same time, I’m struggling with this. I can’t fully articulate why. I know this long vent is only part of it.

I’m just... so sick of being nowhere.

And even if I can’t point out “why,” I just feel so... afraid... pained... hurt... to end up as he did. That I could end up like that. That a character I aspire and adore so much ended up as he did. Don’t get me wrong, it was so fitting, it was so good... but I just... emotions... I can’t.

It’s not about the game. I’m not having problems with the GAME. I’m having problems with something in my heart, resonating within my own life.

It’s the problem of seeing your own hero come crashing down I guess???

Yeah.

Seeing one’s own hero - and through that one’s own ideals and hopes and dreams - come crashing down with a bullet in his chest and a hand that never reaches the console to disseminate the cure.

Mordin’s death.

It’s somehow an attack on my own sense of hope and dreams and goals.

I just... I don’t know what more to say. I don’t even know if this is coherent... crying too hard and too lazy to reread for edits. How many times have I cried about this now?

Friendly reminder that sage all-knowing advice, “It will be okay,” or “I believe in you” responses do *NOT* make me feel better. Non-obtrusive suggestions of what’s going on in my head, saying you relate, or something like that is welcome though.

#blabbing Haddock #non-dragons #Mass Effect 3 #ME 3 #ME3 #personal #don't mind me #I guess sort of indirectly #depression #?#just really sick of having unstable job situations and being in this stasis #also about the game #don't get me wrong #this IS hands down my favorite scene #in the entire franchise

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speaknowslut13 · 4 years ago

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Lauren my beloved! Sorry I missed yesterday, my life is chaos and also I was out of data haha.

Ohh very fun! I feel like kids that age are fun because their personalities are really starting to develop.

Awesome! I’ve also played flute since 5th grade and then I played piccolo in marching band all through college. I miss playing in groups, and I’m really hoping that’ll be possible again soon! You are to drums as I am to singing lmfao I was almost kicked out of choir in high school bc I canNOT carry a tune. What other instruments do you want to learn?

I love channels like that! That and cooking channels are the majority of my subscribed to haha so if you ever decide to start a YouTube, I will certainly be on your subscribers list. Understandable, Tiktok stresses me outtttt lol I go on from time to time bc my sister always sends me a bunch but then I have to delete the app again.

Awwwwwe oh my gosh, that’s so cute!! 🥺🥺 what was your wedding like? (Though I never plan on getting married myself, I loveeeeee weddings hehe) what kind of stuff do you like to do together?

Omggg what an incredible experience for rep tour! Tumblr during rep tour was one of my favorite times ever on tumblr, like so exciting to get clips of the b stage songs and see peoples posts about meeting her! What other concerts have you been too?

I’m hoping to visit Croatia at the end of august, if everything goes according to plan/covid doesn’t once again wreck my plans. I grew up in the northwestern US, and there people joke that the seasons are “fire season, road construction, winter” and winters are regularly so much snow, windy, and -20°, so not ideal conditions for enjoying them. Have you been to Grand Canyon or any of the other national parks in the southwest? They all look so beautiful, that’s one part of the US I would definitely like to see more of.

Thank you!! I’m really excited to be a student again but I am also really glad I took some time off. I enjoy Dostoevsky! Probably not my all time favorite, but my best friend loves him so I’ve read a lot of his stuff and talk about it a lot. Also a big fan of Byron and I have a love/hate relationship with Shakespeare. My favorite poet is ee cummings, I love Cynthia Kadohata, huge Neil Gaiman fan. And many many others haha but off the top of my head let’s go with that 😅

What do you write about? And in what medium? I write a lot of poetry and I like writing non fiction, but I learned in college that I am NOT a fiction writer hahaha.

What have you been up to this weekend?? I hope you’ve had a lovely day 💖 Drew

ps: I love reading your responses! Please don’t feel bad or stressed about writing a lot ✨✨

Hello, Drew! Chaos feels like the natural order of the world lately. It’s fine if you miss a day or two! I understand.

I actually never really wanted to be married myself. I figured if I did, I’d be at least 30. I wanted to get school done first. Then, after my previous relationship, I decided I wanted to be alone. Fate had different plans. I also wasn’t sure I wanted kids. Changed my mind. However one is plenty. One of my biggest pet peeves is when someone invalidates a person’s choices by saying “oh you’ll change your mind”. So even though I changed mine, I won’t be implying or outright denying that you don’t know your own mind.

My wedding was small. We eloped. It was a complicated situation with his family at the time, and we had decided to have the protection of a legal document since we were living together anyway. We picked randomly picked the day. Turned out to be Valentine’s Day. So, I, along with millions of other people, got married at a court house. In fact, someone was wearing my same dress that day! It was awkward. We have yet to have any celebration outside of that day. It was just my immediate family. However, I’ve never regretted marrying him and I still look back fondly on it. Fun fact: his parents found out we were married after we totaled their truck a few months later. Not so fun fact: that was the scariest accident I’ve been in to date. Accident wasn’t our fault and at least in this accident I had airbags. Ever been in an accident? Or in one without modern crash technology? It’s not very fun. Hurts a lot. I remember having to tell my father in law, on the side of the road, that Chase and I had actually gotten married. He was stunned but super supportive. Like I previously said, it was complicated . And I can get into it more, but there’s so much else to address right now!

We really like sitting in silence on our phones together! 😂 We are one of those annoying couples who like to do everything together. We are practically attached at the hip and the pandemic has only made it worse. He’s really interested in getting into D&D. We like playing video games together. We both love swimming. We both really want to travel. I’d love to take him to Europe. We like movies. But we both compliment our different likes and knowledge. He loves animated movies and animes and I love books. We both love art. He’s so good. He lets me do his makeup and nails from time to time. It doesn’t bother him at all. But not only that he’s really helpful at making sure I get my medicines and that I get rest when I need it. Throughout the lockdown he’d do all the running around so I wouldn’t have to go out since I’m immuno compromised. Sometimes I feel like he’s too good to me and the kid. I try to give back what I can. But honestly, he’s my best friend too.

Ahem. Enough gushing.

Other than some musicals and local symphonies, I’ve never been to any other concerts! Weird. I know! I’ve wanted to but never have. I’ve always wanted to see Imagine Dragons. Or Panic! at the Disco. There’s a few artists actually, I’d love to go see.

Croatia is BEAUTIFUL. My time in Europe was 2 weeks during July. I’m in love with it. If you go, Rijeka is wonderful. But near Rijeka is a mountain town called Fužine. It’s MAGICAL. I spent most of my time there. One of the upsides to staying in Rijeka is that it’s just a few hours away from Venice, too. Which. Was also breathtaking. I cried at the beauty of it. I have pictures of these places and I love looking at them. But they also make me a little sad. For multiple reasons. We had a layover in Munich on our way home and so we spent two days there as well. We drove up to the Neuschwanstein castle. It was amazing. But the most harrowing part of that stop was at the site of Dachau. I will never forget the heaviness of it. I had to stop halfway through. It was too much for my sensitivity. A privilege I will never forget.

I was able to visit Idaho (Rexburg) during October and December one year and I loved it. I’ve only ever been to Washington (coastal) and Oregon during the summer months. I wanted to go to school in Washington, originally. Thought I’d move up there. Now the goal is to ultimately expat. Canada, likely. We will see if that ever pans out, though.

I’ve been to the Grand Canyon once when I was 10 or 11(?). We went during December to ride the “Polar Express”. It’s a special event they run during the winter months before Christmas. We were snowed in so we stayed an extra day and took the train to the Grand Canyon. So I got to see it all snowy and clear. It’s gorgeous and I highly recommend it once. I don’t know if I would ever really go back but I might take the kid someday. I at least want her to go on the Polar Express ride. It’s cute and fun for the kids. I was a little too old to fully enjoy it, but my little sister was roughly the right age.

I’ve been to several places in Arizona. The missions, Jerome, and I’ve also been to some places in Colorado and New Mexico. I can’t recall all their names off the top of my head and it was a long time ago.

I greatly appreciate anyone who can write poetry. It is not my forte. They come out childish and awkward. So, I keep those to myself. I write anything and everything. I have several stories, but three top priority right now. One is complete but needs serious reworking and revision. I started it when I was 15. It’s a paranormal mystery with romance. The second one is a fantasy that I started with a friend when I was 14/15. It has its own world and has taken on a life of its own since then. It’s massive. And the third one is a coming of age story. It’s my most delicate one. I started it when I was 21. I have shared an excerpt on tumblr of this one. It’s my most complicated one yet. Like any artist, I’m constantly second guessing my work and lamenting my talent.

This weekend has been mostly spent recharging. I’ve been helping my mom with a project. And of course swimming. I’m a child at heart and I bought myself a mermaid tail. I’ve elevated my pool game. It’s so much fun but my body is yelling at me. I’m not as energetic as I was in my youth. You mentioned marching band? You and I really do have much in common! Not only are you a flautist, but a marching one at that?! I marched in high for two years. I loved it but I started to get burned out. And then I started horseback riding and planned to do that instead. My parents couldn’t afford to do both. And then I caught mono. Looking back, I understand why my mono knocked me out for so long (it’s linked to my autoimmune issues) but at the time every one of my friends thought I was being dramatic. It was kind of a horrible experience. So even if I had signed up for band my junior year, I would’ve had to quit. And then my senior year I signed up for this program that put me through a college program to get my EMT-B. I didn’t take band at all that year. Now I just play for myself. Ideally I’d learn every instrument.

I actually couldn’t sing very well for the longest time. Which was ironic because my mom was operatically trained. My older sister was also trained. And my little sister preferred chorus to band. I ended up teaching myself later. So now I don’t sound terrible but I’m not going to take my solo act on the road anytime soon.

If I can teach myself makeup, art, instruments, and other various things, then maybe I can also someday be brave enough to put myself out there on the internet. And if I do, I will definitely let you know! I will at least have 3 subscribers. 😂

Tell me about this trip you’re planning to Croatia!

#inthaf anon #themodrenreplies

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