#the world is wrong and one day we will shove people into the matrix because the other choice is a full-of-mental-disorders nuclear bomb | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

might-be-a-zygon · 4 years ago

Note

Ohhhh Thasmin and "are you kidding me?! you're not 'fine'!" OR River/13 and "i can't believe i almost lost you

This one got away from me a little, I’ll admit. It’s pretty angsty and features a lot of (canon) character death, so fair warning on that one.

I’ll add an AO3 link in the reblogs!

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The Ghosts That Broke My Heart

Sleep had always been a funny thing for the Doctor. She certainly needed a lot less of it than her human friends, but it had always been a reliable break from whatever life chose to throw at her that week. She had dreams, like everyone did, but there was one thing which the Doctor didn’t really do.

She didn’t have nightmares.

Really, what would she have them about? The Doctor faced the creatures of nightmares every day. To some species, the Doctor was a creature of nightmares.

Still, after what had happened on Gallifrey? She’d found the creatures that could jolt her awake screaming.

Ghosts.

Whatever she’d done to overload the matrix had broken centuries of carefully constructed barriers, holding back the people she’d lost, and now her mind saw fit to make her relive each dark moment whenever she let her guard down to try and sleep.

It had started out right away- that first night in the Jadoon prison she’d laid down on the slab that passed for a bed, and closed her eyes to sleep.

“What does that mean?”

Jenny was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, all wide-eyes and excited smiles. The Doctor could recognise a lot of her own nervous energy in the young woman- ready to go off and explore the brave new world that awaited them. She also saw the gunman poised to take all that away in a moment.

It was like she was watching through thick glass. Poised on the sidelines, watching her past selves getting it all wrong over and over, but helpless to interfere. She slammed her palm against it, sending a too-real shooting pain through her arm, but making no audible sound.

“It means a new world.”

Sandshoes was grinning now, more genuine hope than she could ever really remember feeling shining in those eyes. He’d burned in the end- she remembered that much. He’d been angry. Vengeful.

The Timelord Victorious.

How different might things have been if he’d just turned around? The Doctor tried to speak, to shout for him to get her out of the way. Her voice didn’t make a sound.

She watched the happiness melt from Jenny’s face, even as Sandshoes maintained his stupid, complacent grin. The Doctor was pounding on the glass now, silently screaming that it wasn’t worth it, but of course she couldn’t change it. Jenny shoved Sandshoes out of the way, the bullet striking her square in the chest. Martha- brilliant Martha who she’d never once deserved- she knew right away there was no chance. She watched her past-self hold their dying daughter, and tell her of a future she’d never see, already knowing she was beyond saving. Lies had always fallen too easily from her tongue.

“You’re gonna be amazing, you hear me, Jenny?”

Had she even heard?

That first night, when she woke with a whine, curled up into a tight ball on her uncomfortable prison bed, the Doctor had attributed it to stress. She’d jumped haphazardly from Byron, to the cybermen, to Gallifrey, to prison with no time to clear her head. The Master always did funny things to her mind, anyway, it was normal there’d be some aftereffects.

Her hand ached from where she’d been slamming it into the ‘bed’.

She tried to shake the traitorous vision of Jenny- bright, young Jenny with so much potential sacrificing herself for the father she hardly knew. The father who would go on to do so much damage.

Against her better judgement, she’d turned over, and tried to get to sleep again. It was the last time she made that mistake.

The first thing the Doctor heard this time, was screaming.

She was on a ship, which certainly wasn’t her TARDIS. It took her a minute to recognise the place- but, maybe that made the whole thing even worse. Somebody was screaming for her help, and she couldn’t even remember who it was.

She stood there, behind whatever barrier her mind had constructed to stop her interfering, and watched the doddering old fool she’d been back then just stand there while a good woman was in trouble just feet away. She could have reopened the airlock doors- she’d known how- but she’d been so desperate to look for a way around it, that she’d left Katarina there screaming.

“Change course.” The Doctor in front of her finally ordered. “Take him back to Kembel. Take him back to Kembel! Let the Daleks deal with him.”

In that moment the Doctor looked into her own eyes and saw a spark of that ruthless fire which would one day burn galaxies. It was that same fire that made her risk tearing time apart for Clara Oswald- the fire that burned too brightly. If she was feeling generous, she might have called it admirable, that she was willing to fight so unbelievably hard for the people she loved.

Right now, she called it selfishness.

Steven stepped towards the old Doctor, his anger doing a poor job at masking his fear. “Yes, and us!”

“Don't worry, dear boy, We'll find a way out.” The Doctor cringed at her first face (or, the first face she remembered), while standing in her glass prison. Her methods of comfort hadn’t come on any in three thousand years. She was still a liar.

Both of the men who’d been with her bck then had been afraid. Bret had even tried arguing with her, but the Doctor had never been an easy person to argue with.

“I can't sacrifice everything for the sake of that one girl.” He argued, still at the controls. Luckily, she was spared the embarrassment of having to watch her former self argue by Steven stepping in.

“Listen! Without us you wouldn't have got off Kembel at all, and nothing would be worth bothering about!”

“All right, so we all go back together. But without me, I doubt that you would have got this far either.” Bret had given in quickly enough, and all the while the Doctor just stood and watched, and listened to Katarina’s frightened screaming in the airlock.

She watched as Katarina broke free and hit the release for the airlock. She watched as both her and Kirksen were sucked out into space. She watched, and knew that that girl- that girl who was so brave in the face of so much danger- had sacrificed herself so the three of them could get away.

Her hearts ached, as she thought of a dozen ways she could have saved her, if she’d tried harder.

“She wanted to save our lives and perhaps the lives of all the other beings of the Solar System.” The old Doctor in front of her began to make his silly speech, and the Doctor turned away, revolted at her own self-importance. “I hope she's found her Perfection. Oh, how I shall always remember her as one of the Daughters of the Gods. Yes, as one of the Daughters of the Gods.”

Rule one.

She hadn’t thought about Katarina in centuries. That poor, brave woman, who had made the ultimate sacrifice to keep them all alive, and the Doctor hadn’t even bothered to remember her.

The Doctor had awoken, still curled up on that cold stone slab, unable to shake the revulsion at her own actions. Was she still like that man? So pompous as to think that every being in the universe made their decisions based around her.

She hadn’t tried to sleep again, after that, shifting to lay on her back, staring at the celling, and trying to shake what somewhere, deep down, she knew.

There were very, very good reasons, she was in prison.

At first, it was always death. Faces she’d remembered, and ones she’d long since forgotten, all meeting their end because the Doctor had failed to save them.

“It snapped my neck, Sir. It wasn’t as painless as I expected, but it was pretty quick, so that was something.”

Angel Bob.

The Doctor had forgotten all about Angel Bob. He was young, and clever, and he was so scared, and she had just walked away and forgotten all about him, as though he’d never even existed.

She could see the look on the faces of the others- the muted horror on River’s, and the more pronounced look of it on her mother’s, as well as the well-managed grief of the soldiers who’d fought with him. They were all ghosts, now. Amy, River, the soldiers. All blown away like smoke on the wind.

“If you’re dead how can I be talking to you?” She tried not to think about the genuine interest her former self’s voice held in that moment- a man had just died, and Bowtie was curious about the mechanics.

“You’re not talking to me, Sir. The angel has no voice. It stripped my cerebral cortex from my body and reanimated a version of my consciousness to communicate with you. Sorry about the confusion.”

She tried her absolute best not to think too hard about how conscious the original Bob was at that moment. Had he known what had happened to him? Had he felt the angels turn him into their puppet?

She watched as Bowtie told them all to run- to run into the maze of weeping angels with no plan, and to just trust him, and she watched as he stopped behind to defend himself.

“Yes, I called you an idiot, and I’m sorry-“ He didn’t sound sorry at all, but the Doctor in her glass cage watching it play out certainly was, “But I couldn’t have saved your men.”

“I know that, Sir. And when you’ve flown off in your little blue box, I’ll explain that to their families.”

She watched, sick to her stomach, as Bowtie smirked.

“I’ll have to tell his mother.”

Seeing Rose, even after all this time, was still painful. This was only the second day they’d met, back before they’d travelled together. Before she’d managed to soften the war ravaged Doctor standing in front of her now.

The Ears had been one of her shortest lived, and angriest faces, and the ways he’d treated people were downright cruel at times. She saw the questioning look he gave Rose, clueless in the face of Mickey’s apparent demise, and why she’d be at all upset.

Why Rose hadn’t walked away then and there would forever be a mystery to the Doctor. She’d never once deserved that kind of love.

“Mickey” I’ll have to tell his mother he’s dead, and you just went and forgot him, again! You were right, you are alien.”

Alien didn’t have to mean cruel, though. So why did callousness seem to come so easily to her? Maybe it was just the sheer amount of death she’d witnessed, but it still hurt to see. She had to keep reminding herself that this death, at least, hadn’t been real- that Mickey was alive and living on earth, raising a son with his dad’s eyes and his mum’s brains who’d have the whole world talking in a few years.

At least it was a good reminder of why she was staying away from August Smith.

“Look, if I did forget some kid called Mickey-“

“Yeah, he’s not a kid-“

The Ears cut Rose off before she could keep speaking, but the Doctor watching from the side-lines found herself nodding in agreement. Rose was right. Of course Rose was right.

“It’s because I’m busy trying to save the life of every stupid ape blundering about on top of this planet! Alright?”

“Alright!”

“Yes, it is!” Ears sounded insufferably smug.

The Doctor shook her head in disgust, glancing at Rose and quietly muttering, “Why did you ever put up with me?”

“Look out!”

It was another voice she hadn’t heard in a long time, and one she’d frankly been dreading hearing. If Nyssa was here she had a good idea of what she was about to see. She saw the cybermen coming up behind her back, while her fifth-self fumbled with the controls. It was as good as useless.

A cyberman lumbered up behind her, and her past-self ignored it completely, leaving Nyssa to have to shoot it down with a discarded cyberweapon. She was once again saved by a more competent friend, and her own hypocrisy when it came to guns.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever even thanked Nyssa for saving her life.

“I must save Adric!”

Stuck in the corner, exhausted and emotionally drained, the Doctor was just glad that, while she was having to watch another of her failures, this version of herself was at the very least trying.

“Look!”

“Adric.”

The screen came to life, and the Doctor tried to shut her eyes so she wouldn’t have to watch, but of course it didn’t work- in her dreams she wouldn’t be allowed to block out the parts she didn’t want to see. The only consolation was that she wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes.

She’d always been cowardly like that.

She watched as the ship began to come apart- watched as Tegan and Nyssa held each other, and Celery just stood there gawping like a fish who couldn’t believe his own incompetence.

She still remembered that feeling- like someone had clawed the hearts out of her chest and shown them to her. Back then, it’d been such a long time since she’d really lost someone that she wasn’t used to the pain of it anymore.

When had she become careless enough that death just bounced off of her?

It only took ten days of reliving her worst moments before the Doctor had begun actively fighting sleep. Prison, at least, was a safe enough place to do it. She’d pace her cell at night to keep herself from drifting off- reciting books she knew by heart, or just talking to herself to keep her eyes from closing for too long. During the day, she’d do the same- chatting to the other prisoners, pacing, never letting herself remain still for fear of finally giving into the exhaustion which seemed to have seeped into her bones.

Of course, even a Time Lord (if she could even call herself one anymore), couldn’t stay awake forever. After weeks of forcing her eyes to stay open, she’d eventually collapse, usually when she was in her cell, if she was lucky, and she’d endure another walkthrough her past- too exhausted to even wake up- before being woken by the prison systems to begin all over again.

After a while she’d slip into waking dreams, too exhausted to even think straight. She’d sit in her cell, nutrient block in hand, while her sleep deprived mind played out snippets of her life, a few seconds at a time, while she fought to wake up enough to dismiss the visions.

At first, when she next saw herself- sitting on a bench, eating chips, she thought maybe this was just her mind crying out for some real food. It was easy to forget the specifics of what had been discussed all those years before, after twenty years sitting in a cell.

“She scares me.” Came Bill’s voice from next to the older-Doctor, quiet in its honesty. Admitting you were scared was something so few people ever did- least of all when they were around the Doctor, and being brave was so important, but Bill had never been afraid to admit it to her. She’d been strong like that. “Like. She really scares me.”

As much as she still, after all this time, wanted the Master to be everything she knew he could be, it was hard to deny how right Bill had been to be afraid. After all- it was the Master who’d handed her over to the cybermen, in the end, just not the version she’d feared.

“Okay. Just, promise me one thing, yeah? Just promise you won’t get me killed.”

“I can’t promise you that!” Eyebrows had laughed at her, as though her concerns were something flippant. As though her fear was something worth laughing at. He’d been right, in the end, he hadn’t been able to keep Bill alive, but it was horrible looking back at it now.

The Doctor had managed to shock herself back into reality, but she hadn’t been able to shake the self-contempt that settled in her hearts.

Most of the time, those waking nightmares came while she was stuck sitting around, waiting for the time to come that she’d be allowed out into her tiny cube of the exercise yard, just for something to break up the routine of sitting alone, and thinking about death.

“I keep remembering all the people I’ve killed. Every day I think of more. Being bad- Being bad drowned that out. I didn’t know I even knew their names. You didn’t tell me about this bit.”

“I’m sorry, but this is good.”

“Okay.”

The Doctor watched herself hold her self-ascribed goodness over her oldest friend, and couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t what had driven the Master to the depths of madness he’d displayed on Gallifrey. She might have lorded it as a good thing back then, but she was quickly learning the types of things that isolation, imprisonment, and guilt could do to the mind. If she got out of prison with her sanity, she’d count it a blessing.

She’d dreamt about Missy a lot, after a while. The longer she stayed locked up, the more her guild-addled mind saw fit to remind her of her stint as jailor.

On those nights she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open, the Doctor saw herself through the glass again. It was her twelfth face- well, the twelfth she remembered- the one with the angry eyebrows and the trusting nature. She saw Missy standing there, looking more dishevelled than she had before the vault, standing so close to the forcefield that it was rippling. She looked strangely earnest despite the pantomime of madness she put o- as though she was proud of herself for actually helping.

She watched as Eyebrows shoved Bill back away from Missy, not seeming to care much about how what had just transpired had clearly affected her. She’d never been good enough for Bill- the kind, inquisitive girl who’d gone out of her way to buy the Doctor Christmas presents and who’d called her grandad, and who she’d promised she wouldn’t get killed. Bill who had been so strong, who had fought off the monks and the cybermen by sheer force of will. Bill who’d deserved so much more than what the Doctor had given to her.

She watched Eyebrows walk up to that rippling forcefield, and look his oldest friend in the eyes like she was still the monster she pretended to be.

“Even if that was the truth the fact that you’re suggesting it shows that there’s been no change. No hope. No point.”

Eyebrows sounded angry, and the Doctor winced slightly at that. How was the Master ever supposed to change with the Doctor constantly telling her that her progress meant nothing? Was that why she’d given up in the end? It had to be easier to go back to what you’d known before rather than being constantly strung along and put down by someone who had promised to help you become better.

Missy’s face contorted for a moment. The Doctor left her here for months, all alone in this dusty room with almost nothing, and then he’d turned up just to talk to her like this? Her Twelfth face was one of the few she’d always thought of as good- or, if not good, at least kind. Sandshoes had been angry from the war and from everything he’d lost, but Eyebrows had tried so hard to be kind. Was this really what her version of kind did to people?

After her own stint in prison, leaving Missy trapped like this for so long was beginning to seem more and more cruel. She’d wanted to help people, she really had, but it wasn’t as though her friend had come to her and asked. She’d saved her, and then abused that power, keeping her prisoner for decades to try and make her into something she’d never tried to be. It was hard, knowing what had later become of the Master, not to wonder what all that time in the vault had done to their already fragile mental state. How much had she contributed to his snapping and destroying their home?

Looking at it like that how was the Doctor any better than the Jadoon? And how was Missy running off with the Master much different from her running with Jac They’d both been escaping jailors who kept them confined alone for long enough to drive them half-mad.

“We don’t sacrifice people.” The scene playing out in front of her was hardly easy, but the Doctor laughed anyway, because the irony of that wasn’t lost on her. She’d let so many people die for her as Rainbows that Eyebrows’ words felt hollow. “It’s wrong because it’s easy.”

“Back in the day I’d burn an entire city to the ground just to see the pretty shapes the smoke made. I’m sorry your plus one doesn’t get a happy ending, but like it or not I just saved this world because I want to change.”

There was a forced lightness to Missy’s voice, almost undetectable unless you really knew her well- and the Doctor knew her better than anybody. It’d been a cry for help, of sorts- she’d wanted her friend back, and Eyebrows had ignored her. She’d saved the world- the Doctor would have likely spent months searching for infected water supplies and food chains following up his own stupid theories, and Missy had told him the answer freely, and without reward. She’d saved the world and he’d told her there was no hope for her- no wonder she’d run.

“Your version of good is not absolute.” She continued, her fingers pushing slightly against the forcefield now. The Doctor watched it ripple from behind he own glass patrician, and she knew the look in Missy’s eyes far too well. If that forcefield had been replaced with glowing blue bars it could have been her in her own cell. At least during her imprisonment she hadn’t had to live with the knowledge that her oldest friend was her jailor. “It’s vain, arrogant, and sentimental.”

Vain, arrogant and sentimental.

She always had said the Master knew her soul a little too well.

Once the spectre of death faded, somewhat, it was her own shortcomings her subconscious decided to force onto her. Those moments when she’d forced others into complying with what she’d wanted- as though that was always her decision to make.

She was the Doctor, after all. Who would ever dare to question her whims as anything less than genius?

“You know you can fix that chameleon circuit if you just tried hot-wiring the fragment links and superseding the binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary-“

Not this. Not Donna. How was this fair? At least with Jenny she hadn’t seen the gunman. She could see it in her past-self’s face that he knew this was killing her, and he was just standing there like an idiot, watching it happen. He could have stepped in sooner.

“I’m fine.” Donna was showing off that big grin, back to talking a mile-a-minute. The Doctor had always wondered if on some level she knew what this would do. She had all of that knowledge inside her head, it must have been somewhere in her all along that she’d become an impossible thing.

She didn’t pound on the glass or scream this time, watching her own past unfold with her hand pressed up against it. She mouthed I’m sorry, but no sound came out.

“I bet he’s great, Charlie Chaplin. Shall we do that? Shall we go see Charlie Chaplin? Shall we? Charlie Chaplin. Charlie Chester. Charlie Brown- no he’s fiction-“ She watched as Donna pranced around, playing with the console and the phone. This wasn’t quite Donna- not really. This Donna was far too Doctor- maybe that was why she found it so unsettling, seeing her charming, funny, irreverent friend talking like someone she hated.

“Friction, fiction, fixing, mixing, Rickston, Brixton-“ Donna cut off with a gasp, and the Doctor wanted to slap Sandshoes for leaving her in this state. She had to be scared, and he wasn’t even bothering to explain it to her. Of course, with that much of the Doctor’s mind burning through her own, Donna had probably understood it all already, but there was still something to be said for compassion in a situation as horrific as this one.

“I was gonna be with you forever.” The sadness in Donna’s eyes spoke volumes. She’d trusted the Doctor so much, had so much planned for them, and it was all the Doctor’s fault.

If her hearts hadn’t already shattered they did now. Nobody ever stayed with her forever- not really. Even if she wanted them to, she’d always destroy them before they got a chance.

She was on the floor, kneeling on the dirty floor of a TARDIS she’d long since tried to forget. When had that happened?

“I know.”

She screwed her eyes shut, grateful that this time, at least, she managed to block out the visuals- maybe because this time, the sound of Donna begging for something the Doctor was too selfish to give her was enough. She wouldn’t watch Sandshoes lie to her like that- like he’d lied to Jenny, and to Bob, and to Steven. Pretty words to ease the pain she was about to put her through.

“I can’t go back. Doctor. Please. Please don’t make me go back.”

Listening to her beg wasn’t any easier than watching it. Or living it- especially now she knew just how painful it was to have your memories taken from you. Gallifrey may have erased her path, but she’d run roughshod over her friend’s mind just as carelessly.

“Donna Noble. I am so sorry. But we had the best of times.” Was that supposed to make either of them feel better? She’d been so self-righteous back then. The Doctor opened her eyes again, and regretted it almost immediately, curling in on herself behind her little partition. “Goodbye.”

“No. No! No please! No. No! No!”

Staying awake proved easier once she’d left prison.

During her incarceration, it had only been the thought of getting home to her fam which had really kept her going, so having Yaz back at her side was a real boost to her mood, which kept those waking nightmares at bay.

The running helped too- adrenaline in her system keeping the more dangerous effects of her sleep-deprivation at bay. Still, it didn’t mean that nights didn’t come where she came down from that high of finally being able to help again, and her tiredness came crashing down on her like a crushing weight.

This time, it came after a particularly harsh day.

She was getting sloppy in her exhausted state, and that sloppiness had put Yaz in far greater danger than she’d ever wanted to risk again. She’d told herself, that after the cybermen, and the daleks, she’d be more careful, but then all of a sudden there they were, stuck in a trap she should have been able to spot, if she was thinking clearly.

They’d been held hostage for longer than she was willing to admit- some scrapper who was very keen on getting hold of the TARDIS- not that he really knew what it was or what significance it held. No, for this man the greatest ship in the universe was worth some spare parts, and whatever the scrap value of its base components was.

They’d gotten out, in the end, but it wasn’t as though she could even take credit for that- it was quick thinking on Yaz’s part which had distracted their attacker for long enough for them to get to the TARDIS. As impressive as it was, it was still terrifying to see Yaz be so like her in the way she acted. The last person who’d wanted to be the Doctor had gotten killed trying to do so.

She’d hardly said a word once they returned to the ship, trying her best to ignore the furtive looks of concern she kept getting. She slipped off to the library alone when Yaz went to make a cup of tea, getting there on her fourth attempt (since the TARDIS seemed insistent on placing her room behind every door she opened), and counting on the near-infinite nature of the TARDIS rooms to hide her for a while. She needed a little space while she cleared her head and tried to get rid of some of the overwhelming guilt that was eating her up inside.

She could have gotten Yaz killed today with her carelessness. If Yaz wasn’t as good as she was, she would have gotten them both killed.

No matter what horrors from her past her brain decided to drudge up, a world without Yaz was still a terrifying thought.

“I’m not asking you for a promise. I’m giving you an order.”

She really didn’t want to see this.

The Doctor had not gotten her memories back just so she could watch Clara Oswald face the raven all over again. Even in prison her mind hadn’t been cruel enough to remind her of that particular death. She remembered the others- Oswin, and the governess she’d met in London, and a hundred other Clara’s who’d died to save her- but this one had never come up.

Evidently, her subconscious thought she needed a reminder of what happened when she took her eyes off things for a moment too long.

“You will not insult my memory. There will be no revenge. I will die, and no one else here, or anywhere, will suffer.”

Well there was a promise the Doctor hadn’t managed to keep. She’d tried to tear time itself apart to save Clara, and worst of all, she’d never even known if it succeeded. Testimony didn’t remember whether Clara had lived or died- it’d been taken the moment before the raven hit- before the Doctor had tried to pull her from her timeline. She had no memory of anything that’d happened with Clara after this, and while she knew they’d been together on Gallifrey, she didn’t know how permanent that salvation might be, or what about it had taken her memories to begin with.

“What about me?” Eyebrows asked, and the Doctor who was watching him managed a harsh, bitter laugh. Clara was dying, and as usual her former self was there to be selfish and make her comfort him.

“If there was something I could do about that I would. I guess we’ll both just need to be brave.”

“Clara-“ He was trying to argue again, but all at once she was pulling him into a hug, and looking at the desperation of it from the outside, the Doctor just knew that Clara was trying to pull some comfort from it too, since Eyebrows hadn’t been offering her any.

She’d been human, and she’d been dying, and she’d been scared, but she’d forced herself to be brave so her friend didn’t have to be.

Looking back on it, Clara had always been so much stronger than the Doctor had ever been.

“Don’t run.” It had to be the first time she’d ever said that to one of her friends in a bad spot. “Stay with me.” Eyebrows was practically begging her now. Worse than that, the Doctor knew that if she had to go back and do it again, she wouldn’t be any stronger.

“Nah.” She could see how heard Clara was working to keep her tone casual, not wanting to hurt the Doctor any more than this whole thing already would. It was heart breaking, really, knowing that even in her final moments she’d had to suppress her own feelings to try and save her pain. “You stay here. In the end everybody does this alone.”

She shouldn’t have had to do it alone.

“Clara-“ Eyebrows tried again, and if the Doctor wasn’t stuck in her self-imposed cell, she might have hit him. This was his last chance- why couldn’t he say something to her? Why couldn’t he make sure that she died knowing how deeply she was loved.

“This is as brave as I know how to be. I know it’s gonna hurt you but- please. Be a little proud of me?”

There was a hopeful note to Clara’s tone despite everything, and in the end that was what really broke the Doctor. Her hand was pressed against the glass, desperate to say something, but unable to- the sands of time separated them more surely than the glass ever could.

“Always.” She promised, because if Eyebrows wouldn’t say it, then this new Doctor would. “I’m always gonna be proud of you.”

Clara turned away from her, and walked towards her grave.

“No no no no…”

The Doctor’s eyes blinked open, giving her a hazy view of the warm purple walls of the TARDIS library. She was curled up in one of the armchairs near the fire, her eyes still heavy with sleep. How long had it been since she’d last slept? Weeks, at least. Maybe months. And since she’d last slept properly? Well that had been decades.

Her hands ached from where she’d been clutching onto the arms of the chair.

Her eyes were already falling closed again, too exhausted to even force herself to stay awake.

“If you die here it’ll mean I never even met you.”

She’d never really appreciated how true that statement was. Without the Doctor blundering through her mother’s life, River Song would never have existed. Melody Williams (would she even have been called Melody, with the paradox of her name?) would have grown up safe and happy, the human daughter of the journalist and the nurse. She’d have had a normal life. She’d have been raised by loving parents, and have had a happy childhood, and maybe even brothers and sisters- maybe she’d have still written books, or taught archelogy, and had a much happier marriage than theirs had been.

Melody Pond would have been so much better off if she had never met the Doctor.

“Time can be rewritten.” For once, she seemed to be in agreement with Sandshoes. He was selfish, but at least he’d have been doing her a favour.

“Not those times. Not one line. Don't you dare. It's okay. It's okay. It's not over for you. You'll see me again. You've got all of that to come. You and me, time and space. You watch us run.”

Live great lives. That’s what she’d told her fam. If anyone had lived up to that, and lived a great life despite the Doctor’s meddling, it had been River Song. They’d had some amazing times, saved so many people, so many planets. There were stars out there still burning because River Song had been there to save them.

If the Doctor had found a better way around getting the people out of there, there might have been so many more.

The computer counting down the seconds left of her life in the background wasn’t helping the way that the Doctor’s hearts were pounding. She was crying, now- she wasn’t sure when that had begun.

From her cell, she watched Sandshoes babble on about his guilt- his suspicions, being expertly put down by River. She was so used to shutting him up when he was talking about things he didn’t know anything about- she could really use that, right now.

She should have saved her.

“Hush now. Spoilers…”

River smiled, and the Doctor lunged at the glass in front of her, shouting words that even she could barely comprehend. She was still clawing desperately at the glass when the room flashed bright white.

The Time Lord didn’t even fully wake that time, despite having thrown herself onto the floor at some point during her anguish. She was barely drawn out of her nightmares for a moment, a noise that sounded awfully like a whimper escaping her. Her eyes were shut too-tightly, and she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, fingernails digging into her arms as though that would protect her from the horrors of her own mind.

“Who decides they’re so unimportant? You?”

The Doctor knew where she was this time without even looking up. Somehow, this scared her even more. She wasn’t watching a loved one die, she was watching her own stupid power-play blow up in her face. This hadn’t been a mercy mission, it’d been her trying to prove to the whole Universe that the Doctor had power over all.

“For a long time now I thought I was just a survivor, but I’m not. I’m the winner- that’s who I am. The Time Lord victorious.”

“And there’s no one to stop you?”

“No.”

“This is wrong, Doctor. I don’t care who you are. The Time Lord victorious is wrong.”

Captain Adelaide. She’d been so brilliant- she’d understood more about this than her idiot younger self ever could. The Doctor just about managed to give her a smile from behind her glass wall before she resumed staring at Sandshoes in disgust.

“That’s for me to decide. Now, you better get home.”

It was chilling. Watching her old face shift so quickly. Darkness turned cocky in an instant as he pointed his sonic at the door. Unlike with the other dreams, The Doctor wasn’t shouting. She didn’t try to say a word, just watched on with self-loathing and dread weighing down her hearts. A silent spectator of her darkest moment since the Time War.

Sandshoes smirked at that brave, doomed woman, challenging her to argue her fate further. He’d set himself up as a self-styled God. “Oh it’s all locked up- you’ve been away. Still, that’s easy.”

“Is there nothing you can’t do?”

“Not anymore.”

She watched as the great Time Lord Victorious turned his back on Adelaide. She watched as the captain drew her gun. She braced herself for that flash of blue light and the thud of a body hitting the floor.

“Don’t do it, Adelaide.” She was talking to nobody, but she still couldn’t help herself trying to butt in- trying to fix the damage she hadn’t noticed until it was too late. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t-“

“Doctor?”

A hand on her shoulder drew her out of there before she had to watch that, jolting her awake. She came to, immediately caught off guard by the shadow of someone standing over her, and the scent of a familiar perfume hitting her. It took her a moment or so to place it, but when she did her hearts picked up a little. Yaz. Brilliant, wonderful, human Yaz who’d probably just heard her rambling all sorts of scary nonsense in her sleep.

“Doctor are you alright?”

The Doctor swallowed a little too hard and sat up quickly enough to make her head spin, forcing a familiar, false grin to spread across her face. Her body was aching from sleeping on the wooden floor, and she was pretty sure she was going to be bruised from where she’d fallen off the chair.

“Yaz! Yasmin Khan- Sorry, must have nodded off-“ Her voice sounded a little false even to her own ears, and she did her best to pass it off with a yawn.

“Sorry, just, you were talkin’ in your sleep an’ I thought-“ Yaz looked a little sheepish about waking her, and her eyes were full of concern.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry- Time Lord. Vivid dreams- I was…” She forced another yawn, trying to give herself time to think of a lie. “Did I ever tell you about the time I met a real life siren on a pirate ship? That was a good one, that. Dream about that one a lot. M��fine, though. Really.”

Yaz shot her a look that showed she didn’t believe the Doctor for a moment. There was a beats pause, before she exploded

“Are you kiddin’ me?! You’re not ‘fine’!” She drew air quotes around that last word, straightening up, to stand over the Doctor, showing she was serious.

“I’m-“

“I swear if you say ‘fine’ I’m gonna-”

The Doctor shut her mouth before Yaz could finish the threat.

There was a tense moment, almost like a standoff between the two of them, before Yasmin’s hard eyes softened, and she bent down to help the Doctor to her feet.

“I’m worried about y’.”

Suppressing her initial urge to insist that she was fine, the Doctor bit her lip.

“You shouldn’t be.” She eventually managed.

“When was the last time ‘y slept?” Yaz asked.

“About a minute ago.” The Doctor tried to make a joke. Yaz laughed weakly.

“Before that.” She clarified, glancing at the floor where she’d found the doctor collapsed.

“…I don’t remember.” The Doctor admitted.

Yaz sucked in a surprised breath through clenched teeth.

“Doctor-“

“I’m not human. I don’t need as much sleep as you lot.”

Raising an eyebrow, Yaz gave her another of those easy, disbelieving looks. “And that’s why I found you passed out on the floor cryin’?”

The Doctor blinked, bringing her hand up to her face. Sure enough, she’d been crying- she hadn’t even realised. Waking up with tears in her eyes was just normal by now.

“What’s so bad that it’s keepin’ you up?” Yaz leant forwards, taking one of the Doctor’s hands in both of her own. “Please don’t lie to me.”

There was an earnestness in her eyes that reminded the Doctor of all the people she’d loved most. Rose, Amy, River, Clara. Even Koschei. She’d always liked the people who could be honest with her the best- she needed honest people to stop her tearing herself apart and taking everyone else with her.

“I’ve lost a lot of people, Yaz.” She said, resigned note in her voice. “You saw Gallifrey. My home world is gone, my wife is gone, my children are gone, my granddaughter is gone. I’ve lost most of my friends, and- since Gallifrey, I can’t block them out anymore. I see them die every night.”

All at once, Yaz leaned forwards, just like Clara had in her dream, wrapping her arms tightly around the Doctor, holding her grounded to the spot. Even that brief contact allowed some of the tension in the Doctor’s body to loosen, her shoulder’s slumping as she leant into the contact.

“’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

Yaz pulled herself back from the hug, keeping her hands firmly on the Doctor’s arms, so she could ground her while looking her in the eyes.

“Have you got a bedroom on board?” She asked.

“Somewhere. How come?”

Yaz smiled, “Because you’ve gotta sleep sometime, and I think it’s probably comfier than the floor.” She let one of her hands fall, the other moving up to brush the hair out of the Doctor’s eyes. “Come on.”

She caught Yaz’s wrist in her hand, suddenly looking nervous. She was really worried where her subconscious would go from what had to be one of the worst things she’d ever done. “I don’t wanna. Not yet.”

“Y’ need to.” Yaz insisted, still trying her best to smile. The Doctor recognised that look from how often she herself wore it- that false-cheer that just barely covered the worry. “I promise I’ll sit with y’ the whole time- I can wake you up if you start makin’ noise.”

The Doctor thought about that for a minute. It’d certainly been easier to deal with the dream about Adelaide since she’d been pulled out of it before she actually had to hear the shot go off. If Yaz could pull her out of the bad moments before she had to see anything too bad- Maybe it would let the Doctor get a bit of sleep. It wasn’t the most elegant solution, and it didn’t seem as though it would last too long, but- it was an infinitely better one than her current plan of depriving herself of sleep until she could hardly stand.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” She eventually asked, her fingers still resting around Yaz’s wrist, though she wasn’t trying to use them to push her away any more.

“I love you. Let me take care of you, for once.”

There was another slight pause, before the Doctor let go of her hand, nodding. “Okay.”

Yaz let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” The Doctor turned to her, genuine confusion etched across her features.

Yaz took another step closer, cupping the Doctor’s face in one hand, and giving her the most genuine smile either of them had shared since they’d reunited. “For letting me in.”

#thirteenth doctor #doctor who #thasmin #yasmin khan #yaz khan #madeathing

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embarrassingresultofmyfreetime · 4 years ago

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2020 Masterlist

Here’s a list of all the fics I’ve posted this year! (Listed by category, then chronologically:)

Link to my ao3 where you can read all of these: embarrassingresultofmyfreetime

Currents wips:

And They Were Quarantine Mates

An old disease has resurfaced on Earth- one which most humans recover from but is permanently lethal to Time Lords.

Because of this, the Doctor stays on Earth to make sure her humans make it through okay.

And because of the Doctor, the Master- against his better judgement- also chooses to stay.

Reluctant to leave the safety of the Doctor's Tardis, the Doctor and the Master find plenty of ways to pass the time but it can be difficult to enjoy each other's company with so many things left unsaid.

Good thing they have plenty of time in isolation to work it out.

Word Count: Currently 88,172

Spyfall: Battle For Humanity

This is a little number I like to call: Roleswap AU with Dhawan!Doctor and Whittaker!Master

It's sort of a rewrite of Spyfall p2 but it's better.

Word Count: Currently 5,688 (will be about 12k when finished)

~~~

Main fics (completed):

Please Tell Me Why Do We Worry

Summary: After learning about the final loss of Gallifrey, the Doctor takes some time to grieve and finds herself with surprisingly mixed feelings about the whole ordeal.

To her surprise, a knock at her Tardis door soon reveals the Master not only alive, but in uncontrollable mental agony as he reveals that the Doctor's suffering has been amplifying his own emotions via their telepathic bond.

Note: (After so many kind and positive comments on this fic, I finally gained the confidence to start posting more! A huge thank you to so many people it means so, so much to me!)

Word Count: 5,068

Second Chances

When Graham finds a teleportation cube offering an all-expenses-paid vacation, he, Ryan, and Yaz take up the offer and give the seemingly-distant Doctor some time to herself.

After the events of Skyfall 1&2, the trust between the trio and a certain timelord is shaken. However, when their vacation quickly becomes a nightmare, it's up to the Doctor to bring about peace on an upsettingly familiar planet.

Note: (A rewrite/fix it of S11 episode Orphan 55)

Word Count: 7,130

All’s Fair In Love And War

Having escaped alive and alone, the Master dwells on his failure and uncertainty at what to do next.

Purely by accident, he runs into a version of the Doctor he's never met before and she gives him a much needed perspective on their relationship.

Word Count: 4,653

Truth and Reconciliation

“I... I destroyed a lot of things, but not this... trove of secrets. This is what started it all.”

Missing Scene where the Master goes to Gallifrey and discovers the truth of the timeless child for the first time + alternate ending to The Timeless Children episode

Word Count: 7,563

The Doctor Finally Gets Some Rest

(Ch2 update Missy pov)

The Doctor promised to guard Missy for 1000 years, but Missy doesn't mind returning the favor.

Word Count: 5,671

I Wouldn’t Wish It On My Best Enemy

"Just deserts appeared to finally be served for the Doctor. All her running had come to an end, all the lives she's taken or caused had finally been assigned a numerical value, and all the morals she had once believed in seemed to crumble to dust right before her eyes.

A life sentence.

She had JUST BEEN TOLD she would never die, and the first thing the universe does is give her a life sentence.

What kind of cruel joke is that?"

Basically: The Doctor reflects on herself while in prison, the Master rescues the Doctor and actually helps her, and idk read the tags

Word Count: 4,629

Brand New Reality

In an alternate timeline: The Master is killed in the Time War but the Doctor finds a way to salvage his oldest friend's mind by binding it to his Tardis and building him an android vessel as a way to interact with the physical world.

The Doctor also manages to save the Time Lords from their war- but he is still a renegade in their eyes. As punishment, the High Council uses the Doctor- and by extension the Master- as their personal diplomats/field agents.

The Master isn't too happy about being trapped on the Doctor's Tardis, the Doctor is fed up with being the equivalent of a dog on a leash to the Time Lords, so in a moment of anger and also pure luck- they break out from their world and end up on a parallel one with a very different version of their universe and very different versions of themselves.

(Shalka!Universe Doctor and Master meet their modern counterparts- the Thirteenth Doctor and Dhawan!Master)

Word Count: 10,148

The Imposter(s) Among Us

The Doctor has been searching the universe for the Master, but it's only when she takes a break to help a damaged space vessel that she runs directly into him!

The Doctor has a hundred and one things to ask him, but there's no time for any of that now. The ship is barely functional and if the mysterious murderer doesn't get to the Doctor first, then the trigger-happy crewmates might throw her out the airlock before the killer gets a chance.

Word Count: 12,655

My Dear, Doctor…

The Doctor investigates an anomaly to find that her previous self has stood up their oldest friend for the umpteenth time.

Confused as to why the Doctor can't recall ever receiving Missy's invitation in the first place, the Doctor goes searching for answers and ends up finding far more letters than just one…

Word Count: 6,657

~~~

Series:

And They Were Happy Au Parts 1-4:

Part 1: Dinner and a Show

All his lives, the Master had always believed that he and the Doctor could hold on for about the same amount of time. He always imagined that when they reached their last lives, they would both give all this up and spend their retirement years bickering and raising bees or whatever. The Master didn't particularly like bees, but he had always imagined that the Doctor did and as long as they were together, that was enough to satisfy him.

What he had discovered in the Matrix had proved his ideal endgame impossible.

The revelation that the Doctor was The Timeless Child meant that the Doctor would always live on. They would always evolve and survive no matter what happened. The Doctor would always race to people in need; and now, they would never have any reason to stop.

(AU where the reason the Master wanted the Doctor to kill them both in The Timeless Child is bc he's on his last life)

Word Count: 5,120

Part 2: Dinner and a Show One-Offs

"The Doctor did her best to space out her visits with O. For every couple adventures she had with her 'fam', she would stop by his home once or so. Sometimes she let months slip by, because she knew that the longer she waited, the less of O's limited time she used up.

She felt guilty to calculate it, but if O was already in his mid-thirties and he lived a full human life...

Suffice it to say, she wanted it to last for as long as possible. She had never had a situation as stable nor as safe as she now had with O. After everything they had both been through to get to this point, she refused to jeopardize a single moment.

For all the pain the Master had caused her, O was well worth the wait."

(By popular demand, a continuation of 'Dinner and a Show')

Word Count: 10,926

Part 3: Unjustifiable

O- having no recollection of his actions as 'The Master'- returns to being Earth's Horizon Watcher.

O is proud of his work and he cherishes the Doctor's frequent visits, but it's becoming increasingly apparent that she's been keeping more secrets about his past than he had theorized.

To make matters worse, the arrival of an advanced species of aliens on his doorstep brings with it a whole new plethora of problems. Something terrifying resurfaces when O hears they're searching for a Tardis and things go terribly wrong.

Word Count: 23,870

Part 4: Found Family

The Master finally gets around to seeing the universe in a more peaceful way and runs into a young woman looking for her father.

Word Count: 3,663 (Will possibly be updated at a later date, but complete for now)

~~~

Oneshots Inspired by others (specific inspiration in the beginning notes of each):

All Alone In The Dark

While heading back to Earth, the Doctor hears someone calling for her help.

She tracks it back to the Master- injured yet alive- and finds him trapped in his own head, reliving his last confrontation with The Time Lord Council before the destruction of Gallifrey.

Word Count: 1,926

You Again

The 10th Doctor and Missy each escape their last canon appearances believing that the other is dead for good.

So imagine their surprise when they run into each other at a party in the 1920's.

Word Count: 6,943

Sick Day

The Master has everything set up for his latest evil scheme but when he tracks down the Doctor, he realizes his best enemy is in no condition to fight. So the Master does what any good nemesis does and takes care of him.

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Word Count: 2,807

Prompt: "Right now, I don't know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge!" "Can I pick?"

The Master’s Tardis had traced the call seven minutes in advance to this exact time and location. He pushed open his Tardis door to find himself in front of some no name bar with graffiti scrawled on the side, situated in front of an empty ravine. He was on Earth, and there was probably a similarly ramshackled city around him, but he didn’t so much as spare it a glance.

The Master’s steps were determined, his jaw clenched, and his hands shaking despite his signature device in hand.

He had been on the other side of the universe, licking his wounds like any old villain would when disappointed by their latest nemesis showdown. It all made his blood boil to have caved so soon. To come back and HELP the Doctor.

The Doctor still had O’s number and her call was scheduled to be made in exactly seven minutes. A hysterical, agonizing call that begged the Master to intervene. He wasn’t sure what was worse, hearing the Doctor in so much despair, or the disappointment that hearing her in such agony somehow didn’t lessen his own.

Word Count: 2,410

The Beginning and The End

Prompt: First Doctor, Dhawan!Master, Gallifrey, and the dialogue: "I know my words mean close to nothing for you. But I do, in fact, love you very much."

Basically Theta (Academy Era Doctor) accidentally runs into the Master on a burning Gallifrey

Word Count: 4,499

Kisses Like That

The Doctor's never understood why humans enjoy kissing so much- but a certain, somewhat familiar woman piques his interest.

(Missy goes back in time to give 10 a lil kiss)

Word Count: 1,885

Spyvember 2020

Collection of short fics I did inspired by Spyvember prompts (from Tumblr)

Word Count: 15,506 (6 separate chapters)

~~~

Thank you to everyone who has inspired me, commented on my work, read any of my writing, and overall has just supported me in any way this year!! Thank you for keeping me motivated and helping me improve as a writer!

My best wishes to you in the new year! <3

#here's a version w a break for mobile users lol #otherwise its the same #doctor who #dw #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfic #thirteenth doctor #dhawan!master #dhawan master #yasmin khan #ryan sinclair #graham obrien #thoschei #spydoc

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violetsystems · 5 years ago

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#personal

I had to clear the porch of all my plants yesterday. I was asked to move them by my landlord’s wife so that dirt didn’t get into the air conditioner below. Yesterday the husband banged on my door and read me the riot act. In his mind, this is not something I argue with. And honestly over the years, it’s been cheaper not to complain. That is until you realize you are cloistered into a literal daily soap opera with everyone’s hearts on their sleeve. Including the police. I honestly don’t have the capacity to worry about anything except my own private space these days. Everybody seems to know something about me on the surface but not the whole story. People brush by with projected questions every day. They snoop. They follow. They try to get a read on what I’m thinking. Which boggles my fucking mind because I’ve written it here weekly for over five years now. Some people on here know me more intimately than anyone in real life. I think that is special and a large reason why I’ve kept things very ethereal and romantic here. I don’t force myself into anything or anyone’s life. And yet I find myself encroached on in such a unsafe and disastrous way I don’t know where to go anymore. I’m stuck. The last three responses on LinkedIn were women I didn’t know. The first from the post office I was nice to then ignored. The second was an unsolicited request from a student at NYU. I ignored that one. Then an all too obvious ghost profile from Atlanta that worked as a makeup artist for Ulta. All of them I found a light way of saying I’m on the platform for professional reasons. All of them I feared were catfishing especially when the conversations turned to “do you wanna hang out?” The last one was a little more human and I need connections. Professional ones. My last job and everything with it just ghosted me in the most heinous way possible. I’m in a vulnerable position seemingly. And everyone seems to think this is the final blow. They’re closing in for the kill. They’ve surrounded themselves around me. I can’t escape. The whole neighborhood has me on trial every square inch I walk. None of it makes sense unless you count the police down the block making sure I’ve been made contact with. It’s surreal and not so obviously unconstitutional. It’s my life every day now. It sounds like shit out of a spy movie. And this is what my life has become. And if I talk about it openly I’m the first to be shoved in the oven and gaslighted. How did it come to this? I don’t really care. The lesson I have learned from all of this is that time and distance will tell. Nobody knows how drastically my financial state has changed other than my bank. And this entire time being tortured, followed, analyzed and picked over I’ve just been building up equity week by week. The plants didn’t go to waste. I rearranged them in the bathroom. It made things less scary. The only place where I feel safe anymore. Inside the locked doors of my apartment.

If I were to sum it all up with one phrase. This is the phrase. What the literal fuck is wrong with people? The answer is too dark to repeat. This is just how people are. You can be above it. Or you can sink to the bottom with the rest of the trash that floats down there. I tend to stay away from everyone. People have year after year pinned the blame on me. And yet no one can stop reaching out to me or pressuring me to be a part of something I’m not. Welcome to society I guess. It makes me angry. And the one thing I’ve had the luxury of not being the last few weeks is angry. I’m not the hulk. I am hiding a blinding rage inside me. But it’s not my own. And I realize sometimes that for all the shit people try with me, it’s a sure sign none of it works. I’m somewhere else entirely. Wondering if I should seek out a job in China next year and prepare my language skills the rest of the year. Wondering if I will even have to work at all after all of this. It’s all going to cave in at some point. Nobody can go through what I’ve gone through and just disappear. Unless someone really feels they need to off me. Which is a fear I live with for no real purpose. I don’t really gain anything from being exiled and ignored. Some great big test year after year about how one day I’ll be “discovered.” What the fuck am I doing down here writing for anyway? I’m 46. I’d play Khan in a Star Trek reboot. But really I’m trying to connect just like everyone else. And people have consistently taken this as a vulnerability or a mental illness to manipulate and turn on me. That’s just the evil of human nature. Life teaches me that evil people will just tell you it’s in their dna. They fuck into existence enough tax havens. The panama papers made sure of bringing that to light. But here I am an only child with no legacy other than my parents who one day will cease to be. I’ll be out here paying my taxes until my dying breath while people use them to fund police actions so blatantly corrupt you’d better be putting the rest into a good lawyer. Chicago is a city of lawsuits. And I fear sometimes it’s just a con on top of a con. They had it set up. Destroy my life and offer me no choice but to accept their version of what I should be. And they got caught with their pants down so much that I feel it’s not so much a cover up but an orgy of greed and corruption. Chicago is no better than Donald Trump in that respect. Neither are both sides of the political coin people roll down the street to you as bait. You can make a change. I can actually. I received an email that my vote by mail ballot was accepted. The email account that wasn’t locked out after twenty years of service to an art school that I gave my very soul to. No student loans to show for it either.

I can tell you how this all ends. It ends great for me. And bad for anyone who is tied to holding me back. I know this because a year ago I was far worse off. And I have been the only person I can ultimately rely on these days. My own good judgement. My own legacy which people cast doubt on. My body of work that reaches past a job that never wanted me to be me. I learned a lot about being inclusive. How to be an ally in my own way. I’ve seen that respected and appreciated down here. I’ve put it into practice in my life in my search for a new career. I’m not looking for a job. I don’t need to be plugged back into some matrix of human capital for the sake of maximizing the GDP. I’m not interested in people forcing their ideas of what is best for me in a hidden, corrupt fashion. The big brother nation state here is nothing to brag about. We are far worse than China in that respect. Americans are at the mercy of capital. We are bullied by landlords, developers, politicians, police, institutions, and countless other mobs. When we disagree, we are put on trial and hunted until we admit we are wrong. We are watched with the human eye from the shadows like a rabid animal breathing down our necks. No luxury of the fourth wall of CCTV. We are conned and herded into ghettos and experimented on for marketing pogroms. We are told we are irrational when we question a 2 trillion dollar valued company’s need for 30% of profits from independent developers. We are sick and tired of hearing your endless excuses. We see how full of shit you are. And some of us revolt. Some of us tear it down. And some of us sit back knowing full well this is the way it has ended for some of us. My love of this country. My freedom that isn’t free. The lie I live from day to day. Sounds very depressing. I must have brought it on myself. And I did partially. Trying to get close to something real. I got very close to myself. I ended up healing myself in ways I didn’t know I needed. And I ended up being in a very different place while people around me stayed the same. I feel tied down. I feel torn apart. But mostly I feel indifferent because you can’t hurt me any more if I don’t believe you have any power over me. And this is the boring nature of my life now. I sit back and plan like I always do. Get things in order. Know what my rights are. Know how badly they’ve been violated. And know the world is just a planet in the universe. A planet we both share. Air we both breathe. Private and intimate thoughts that are stuck inside my head only to be pried out with forceful hands. They’ve tried for years. I have too many scars to show for it. And they’ve never heard the secret out of my mouth. Or if they did they never really listened. It’s not about them. It’s about us. <3 Tim

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angelofberlin2000 · 6 years ago

Link

By Naomi Fry 2:58 P.M.

Last week, I read a report in the Times about the current conditions on Mt. Everest, where climbers have taken to shoving one another out of the way in order to take selfies at the peak, creating a disastrous human pileup. It struck me as a cogent metaphor for how we live today: constantly teetering on the precipice to grasp at the latest popular thing. The story, like many stories these days, provoked anxiety, dread, and a kind of awe at the foolishness of fellow human beings. Luckily, the Internet has recently provided us with an unlikely antidote to everything wrong with the news cycle: the actor Keanu Reeves.

Take, for instance, a moment, a few weeks ago, when Reeves appeared on “The Late Show” to promote “John Wick: Chapter 3—Parabellum,” the latest installment in his action-movie franchise. Near the end of the interview, Stephen Colbert asked the actor what he thought happens after we die. Reeves was wearing a dark suit and tie, in the vein of a sensitive mafioso who is considering leaving it all behind to enter the priesthood. He paused for a moment, then answered, with some care, “I know that the ones who love us will miss us.” It was a response so wise, so genuinely thoughtful, that it seemed like a rebuke to the usual canned blather of late-night television. The clip was retweeted more than a hundred thousand times, but, when I watched it, I felt like I was standing alone in a rock garden, having a koan whispered into my ear.

Reeves, who is fifty-four, has had a thirty-five-year career in Hollywood. He was a moody teen stoner in “River’s Edge” and a sunny teen stoner in the “Bill & Ted” franchise; he was the tortured sci-fi action hero in the “Matrix” movies and the can-do hunky action hero in “Speed”; he was the slumming rent boy in “My Own Private Idaho,” the scheming Don John in “Much Ado About Nothing,” and the eligible middle-aged rom-com lead in “Destination Wedding.” Early in his career, his acting was often mocked for exhibiting a perceived skater-dude fuzziness; still, today, on YouTube, you can find several gleeful compilations of Reeves “acting badly.” (“I am an F.B.I. agent,” he shouts, not so convincingly, to Patrick Swayze in “Point Break.”) But over the years the peculiarities of Reeves’s acting style have come to be seen more generously. Though he possesses a classic leading-man beauty, he is no run-of-the-mill Hollywood stud; he is too aloof, too cipher-like, too mysterious. There is something a bit “Man Who Fell to Earth” about him, an otherworldliness that comes across in all of his performances, which tend to have a slightly uncanny, declamatory quality. No matter what role he plays, he is always himself. He is also clearly aware of the impression he makes. In the new Netflix comedy “Always Be My Maybe,” starring the standup comedian Ali Wong, he makes a cameo as a darkly handsome, black-clad, self-serious Keanu, speaking in huskily theatrical, quasi-spiritual sound bites that either baffle or arouse those around him. “I’ve missed your spirit,” he gasps at Wong, while kissing her, open-mouthed.

Though we’ve spent more than three decades with Reeves, we still know little about him. We know that he was born in Beirut, and that he is of English and Chinese-Hawaiian ancestry. (Ali Wong has said that she cast him in “Always Be My Maybe” in part because he’s Asian-American, even if many people forget it.) His father, who did a spell in jail for drug dealing, left home when Keanu was a young boy. His childhood was itinerant, as his mother remarried several times and moved the family from Sydney to New York and, finally, Toronto. We know that he used to play hockey, and that he is a motorcycle buff, and that he has experienced unthinkable tragedy: in the late nineties, his girlfriend, Jennifer Syme, gave birth to their child, who was stillborn; two years later, Syme died in a car accident. Otherwise, Reeves’s life is a closed book. Who is he friends with? What is his relationship with his family like? As Alex Pappademas wrote, for a cover story about the actor in GQ, in May, Reeves has somehow managed to “pull off the nearly impossible feat of remaining an enigmatic cult figure despite having been an A-list actor for decades.”

This inscrutability makes each new detail we learn about Reeves’s life seem like a revelatory gift. On a recent appearance on “The Ellen DeGeneres Show,” the actor admitted, twenty-five years after the fact, that he had a crush on Sandra Bullock when the two were filming “Speed.” Last week, a Malaysian Web site claimed that, in an interview, Reeves confessed to being lonely. “I don’t have anyone in my life,” he supposedly said, adding, “Hopefully it’ll happen for me.” The Internet responded with a collective shriek of longing. When it was reported, on Saturday, that, according to Reeves’s rep, the quotes had been fabricated, it almost didn’t matter. The Internet’s desire to plumb the hidden depths of this gorgeous puzzle of a man, and to serve as a balm to his perceived hurt, had been so strong that it willed this bit of news into existence.

The outpouring of horny sympathy recalled an earlier episode, in 2010, when paparazzi pictures appeared showing the actor sitting on a New York City park bench and eating a sandwich, looking scruffy and in low spirits. So emerged the “Sad Keanu” meme; June 15th was even declared, by fans, “Cheer Up Keanu Day.” But, unlike the “Sad Ben Affleck” meme, which came in response to a swaggery alpha male’s public descent, Sad Keanu was not animated by Schadenfreude. It simply brought to the fore the retiring, not-long-for-this-world sensitivity that we had always intuited was there.

Recently, a slew of people have come forward to share their real-life “Keanu Stories.” (A bizarrely large number seem to have encountered him at one time or another, perhaps owing to the fact that he often travels alone and without handlers.) The image of him that emerges from these anecdotes is of a considerate man who is aware of his status as a celebrity but doesn’t take advantage of it, and who is generous but careful with his presence. After a flight he was on from San Francisco to L.A. had to make an emergency landing in Bakersfield, Reeves helped passengers recruit a van to transport them the remaining way; en route, he read facts about Bakersfield aloud and played country tunes on his phone for the group. He signed an autograph for a sixteen-year-old ticket seller at a movie theatre after intuiting that the teen was too shy to ask him for one directly. He called an indie bookstore in advance, once a week, before arriving, on his motorcycle, to pick up new books. He was a wallflower at a party, asking another actor on the outskirts of the gathering if she would show him pictures of her dog in costume.

My colleague Jessica Winter was involved in a well-known Keanu Story, though she didn’t know it at the time. In a minute-long viral video taken on a New York City subway car, in 2011, Reeves is seen getting up and offering his seat to a woman who is carrying a large bag. Winter happened to be sitting next to Reeves when the video was shot—she is the strawberry-blonde woman absorbed in reading a magazine, initially unaware of her famous fellow-passenger. Watching the clip today, Winter recalled the courtly way in which Reeves reacted to being filmed: “He was calm and beatific and ever so slightly puzzled, like, Why are you doing this? I am not upset, and perhaps it is not my business.” If only more of us could learn to adopt Reeves’s attitude in our own lives. It’s O.K. to take a pause sometimes, to not engage, to let the world separate from you a little bit, he assures us. Just watch me.

I have two Keanu Stories of my own, both brief but sweet. In 2006, at a performance by the dancer Pina Bausch, at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, I saw Reeves seated a couple of rows away from me—in the cheap seats—his gangly legs crammed into the small space in front of him. Three years later, at Film Forum, I spotted him emerging alone from a Kurosawa movie, carrying a large tub of popcorn. These moments aren’t much, but I keep them close, picking them up every once in a while, the way you would a crystal or an amulet.

#keanu reeves #the newyorker #too good for this world

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katedoesfics · 5 years ago

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Shadows of Hyrule | Chapter 52

Now that Link and his friends were the talk of the world, he shouldn't have been surprised when he got more attention than he was used to. Still, when he got to school the next morning, he wasn't prepared for the entire school to fall silent, their eyes turned to him. Unfortunately, there was still a few minutes before the first bell, which meant that no one would make their way into the school until then, too content to be staring at the six students that were plastered all over the news.

Link shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried over to his friends, but the staring did not stop.

“This is uncomfortable,” Mipha muttered. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Milk it,” Revali said. He scanned the crowd that had gathered outside the school and winked at a few of the cute girls he spotted. They giggled and turned to whisper to one another. After a moment, a few of the students stepped forward.

“Is it true? Is Ganondorf coming back?”

Another kid elbowed his friend in the ribs. “Of course not, you idiot,” he hissed. “They're a bunch of liars.”

Zelda's brows knit together, but she bit her tongue.

Revali, however, was not about to let himself look foolish. “Idiots,” he spat. “Do you really think I'd waste my time with Link for nothing?”

“Thanks,” Link muttered.

“Prove it, then,” the kid said. “Let's see it. The Triforce.”

“Well, they can't just will it to appear,” Revali said, as if it were obvious.

“How convenient.”

“Don't waste your breath,” Urbosa said. “They're uneducated biggots.”

To their relief, the first bell of the day rang. It took a few moments, but slowly, one by one, the students started to make their way inside the building, mumbling to each other and casting final glances towards the six Champions. They waited until most of the students made their way into the school before following suit. They were, however, stopped in the hallway, by none other than their principal.

“Let's have a talk, shall we?” he said to them.

Without argument, they trudged after him, following him into his office. Though in adequate sized office, with eight people in there, it proved to be slightly cramped. Still, he closed the door behind him and sat himself at his desk. One of the school's counselors sat beside him. He smiled at the six students that stood before him and was the first to speak.

“You should know,” he started, but Revali interrupted him.

“We're not crazy,” he snarled. “And we don't need help from the likes of you.”

The counselor cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap. “I never said you were crazy,” he said, meeting Revali's gaze. “There are people in the world that still believe the legends.”

Daruk narrowed his gaze on the man. “You say that as if it's nonsense.”

“We're not here to make life anymore difficult for you,” their principal said. “But after what happened last night -”

“You're in the eye of the media,” the counselor said. “You're being watched by the entire world. Some of you are minors. There is going to be a lot to handle in the next few weeks.”

“And, you know, saving the world,” Urbosa said. “We gotta do that, too.”

The counselor nodded. “I trust you know what you're doing,” he said. “But I wouldn't be doing my job if I stood idly by.”

“So,” Revali started, “What's your job? You're not exactly a pysch.”

“But if I believe it is in your best interest to -”

“We don't need therapists,” Zelda hissed. “What we need is the world to stop breathing down our necks.”

“That will never happen,” he said. “Your lives will never go back to normal.”

The six of them were quiet as they considered this. It never occurred to them what their futures could be like. They were simply too busy worrying about Ganondorf, and if they were even going to survive the war.

“A price we must bear, then,” Revali said simply.

“I don't think you understand the severity -”

“I don't think you understand,” Zelda said fiercely. “The entire world is in danger, and its our job to save it.”

“If you ask me,” Revali said, “it seems like you doubt us. We're not children. We know we're in way over our heads.”

The counselor smiled. “Perhaps, then, you should take a step back and consider your options.”

“There are no options,” Zelda said. “It all comes down to us, whether you like it or not.”

“That's a daunting task, don't you think?”

They were quiet again, waiting for the counselor to speak further. When he did, he stood.

“You don't have to be alone in this,” he continued. “Don't be afraid to ask for help.”

The principal stood, too. He walked around the students to open the office door. “You can get late passes from the front desk,” he instructed them.

The six Champions said nothing as they left the office, though their anger and frustration was written on their faces. They didn't speak to one another until they were back in the hallway.

“That was a load of bullshit,” Daruk said. “Thank the Goddesses we're out of this shit hole soon.”

“On the plus side,” Urbosa added, “we'll be able to finish this war without worrying about school.”

“I don't think I can stand their stares much longer,” Mipha muttered. “Why couldn't the media get involved after school ended?”

“You're telling me,” Zelda said. She shifted her bag on her shoulder and sighed. “This is going to be a very long day.”

And a very long day it was for Hyrule's Champions. Still, they managed to pull through to the end, all too eager to leave the suffocating walls of the school, only to be stopped by Teba in the parking lot.

“I want to know what's going on,” Teba said.

They stared at him for a moment, then turned their gazes to Link, as if they expected him to explain it all to him.

“Nothing's going on,” Link muttered.

“Cut the bullshit,” Teba barked. He stepped into Link's space, glaring down at him. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fine!” Link shouted. “We're a crime fighting team and we call ourselves Hyrule's Champions. We go around fighting monsters because some fucked up bad guy is about to rise from his pit in hell and take over the world with his evil power. And guess what? I have a magic sword that's gonna stop him. And Mipha and Urbosa and Daruk have magic powers. Revali? He's fucking good with a bow and arrow and he has matrix-like reaction. And there's this old hag is a Sheikah who's probably a thousand years old and she's kind of our leader.”

Teba stared at him long and hard for a moment before a grin split his face. He laughed sharply. “That's a good one. I like it. Do you wear costumes and capes and shit, too?”

Link smirked and shrugged. “I voted for crime fighting bikinis for the ladies, but that got shot down.”

“So, that's the best you've got?” Teba asked. “You're not even trying with the excuses anymore.”

“For the love of the Goddesses,” Urbosa said. She put a hand on her hip and raised her other arm in the air, snapping her fingers. Lightning split the clear, blue sky out of no where, and Teba jumped back in surprise.

“What the fuck was that?”

“My super power,” Urbosa said, rolling her eyes.

Teba blinked at her. “No it's not,” he said after a moment. “You're fucking with me.”

Revali sighed. He leaned over his car, pulling out a plain looking dagger, and plunged it into Link's arm. Link shouted and doubled over in pain, clutching at his arm.

“What the fuck, Revali?!”

Urbosa turned to Revali and slapped him across the head. “Are you fucking serious?”

“The fuck is wrong with you, man?” Teba shouted at him.

“You're such a dick,” Mipha muttered as she hurried to Link's side. She got to her knees and moved her hands over his arm. A light emitted from her palms, enveloping the wound, and within a few moments, Link's arm was healed. Link sneered up at Revali as he got back to his feet.

Teba stared at Link's arm, his mouth gaping open as if he were trying to speak. His mouth opened and closed for a moment before he finally managed to spit out “What the fuck!”

“Obviously Mipha's the healer,” Daruk said with a smirk. “I'm the tank.”

“You... heal... tank...” Teba shook his head. “This is a fucking dream.”

“I wish,” Urbosa muttered.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Teba said, holding up his hands. “So, you fight monsters?”

“Yes,” Link said in a bored tone.

“And some bad guy is trying to take over the world and you need to stop him?”

“Yes,” Zelda said, exasperated.

“But,” he continued, “why you guys?”

“Because they were chosen by destiny,” Paya said. “Zelda is a descendant of the Goddess Hylia and has inherited her power, just as Link is a descendant of Hylia's appointed hero. Over the years, she has gifted others with a power that would be crucial in aiding them in the war against Ganondorf.”

“Ganondorf,” Teba muttered. “The bad guy?”

“Ganondorf holds a piece of the Triforce, which grants him enough power to rise time and time again, no matter how many times he is defeated and sealed away. He is after the other two pieces, which Zelda and Link possess. He will never rest until he claims the full power of the Triforce.”

“So, this has happened before?”

“It is the job of the Sheikah to make sure each hero finds the Master Sword and takes up the duty to defeat Ganondorf. It is our job to keep our history alive and not lost to legend. The moment we lose touch with our past, we will lose all of Hyrule.”

“This is real,” Teba said. “You're not fucking with me.”

“Honestly, Teba,” Urbosa said. “I have better things to do than craft elaborate lies with these idiots.”

Zelda nodded in agreement.

Teba frowned. “Why am I always left out of all the exciting shit?”

“Don't worry,” Revali said. “I was the last to know, too. And it's not as exciting as I expected it to be.”

“Not for nothing,” Teba said, looking around. Students still had their eyes on the Champions as they slowly made their way home for the afternoon. “But ya'll in way over your heads.”

“This isn't news to us,” Daruk muttered.

“What can I do to help?” Teba said.

“Nothing,” Revali hissed. “Get as far away from us as you can. Its for your own good.”

“Yeah, I don't think so,” he said, shaking his head.

Link opened his mouth to argue with Teba, but Revali stepped in instead, his fierce gaze on his friend.

“Do you think this is a game?” he snapped at Teba. “Do you think we want to be doing this?”

Teba hesitated. His brows furrowed as Revali continued angrily.

“Shit, we'll be lucky if we live another day. Our lives are on the line. The lives of every person in the world is in our hands. If we fuck up, that's it. And if by some miracle we win this, nothing is going to be the same. The media has turned us into fucking pariahs. In the end, no one will trust us, even if we come out on top. You get to go on and live your life, marry Suki, whatever the fuck you want to do. We'll always be judged, everywhere we go. We'll be held to expectations we can't live up to. We threw out futures away for this. So everyone else could live. Don't make us regret it.” Revali turned on his heels and got into his car, slamming the door behind him, still fuming. He turned the key in the ignition, then looked up and pointed a finger at Link.

“End this before I end you.”

Link narrowed his eyes on Revali, but said nothing. They watched as he peeled out of the parking lot and disappeared around the corner.

“College seems so meaningless if the world is going to end tomorrow,” Teba muttered.

#legend of zelda #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #loz #botw #shadows of hyrule #soh52

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shanastoryteller · 7 years ago

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original space drama preview

i’m going to be working on this on and off, so if you want to know what the heck it is, read below the cut. please note that this is SUPER ROUGH so fair warning

“This is your last chance to back out.”

Isaiah opens his eyes only to narrow them. The soft-voiced, hard-eyed woman standing above him had been beside him through his entire application process, his numerous physicals, and the small mountain of legal paperwork. He’s flat on his back, so he supposes any intimidation factor he may have had is at least halved. “I’m not going to back out.”

She tightens the straps on his arms and legs, silent as the dozen or so doctors and physics and technicians move around him like a school of fish just at the edge of his vision. Finally, she says, “I don’t understand why you chose the last slot. A thousand years is – a long time. We have no idea where you’re headed.”

“No one has any idea where they’re headed, but at least some know when,” he quips, repeating back the slogan printed on their promotional material. “Why are you trying to talk me out of this? As soon as I’m sent onward, you get a great big check for signing me on, don’t you?”

“CLEAR THE ROOM,” one of the technicians bellows.

She sighs, then leans down to carefully press her lips to his forehead. He’s so startled by the action he doesn’t even think to react to it. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in the future.”

She’s gone, and it’s just him, strapped down into a machine he can barely pronounced, with a small army of people watching him through three feet of solid glass. They’ve done this hundreds of times before. But this time is different.

He’d taken the last possible slot.

Time travel is a one way trip forward. No going back in time, which means once you arrive in the future, there’s no way to return. For smaller trips, a few years, a dozen years, they offer excellent salaries for doing nothing more than going in the machine and popping out the other side. Ever test had been successful. So far.

But for longer one hundred years, there was no safety net. Just the promise of something new. Something different. All they could promise was difference.

For a trip one thousand years into the future? They couldn’t promise anything at all. They couldn’t even promise he’d survive the trip.

“Goodbye Isaiah Dally,” the head of the program says, his voice crackly through the speaker and echoing around the chamber.

Any response he might have given is cut off as the machine whirls to life, louder and more terrifying than any MRI machine. Light threatens to blind him, and there’s the oddest sensation of pressure on every inch of his body that isn’t quite painful, but it intense enough to make him nauseous.

He closes his eyes, knowing that if he opens them again, he’ll be some-when else.

Tara has been stuck on this shitty outpost in the middle of nowhere space for years, fixing up spaceships for crumbs, and somedays it’s hard to remember why.

Today is one of those days.

“Fifteen hundred denarios?” the Mitger growls, a species known for their bright blue skin and dozen eyes. “This is robbery!”

“It’s a bargain,” she retorts. “Your entire engine is shot, this is the completely wrong ship to take into deep space. If you want to get running again, and you want to actually make it to another station, that’s how much it’s going to cost. The parts alone are going to run me over a thousand. This is practically charity.”

“Charity from a Viatorum,” he sneers. “Your species is an eternal vagabond, searching for a planet to replace the one you lost, and entirely willing to swindle, steal, and cheat in the meantime! You’re a disgrace even to your own kind, not even stealing to get things. Your skin is looking a little blank there, girl.”

Tara is going to take that pipe and shove it down his stupid, ignorant throat. Mitger can breathe through the skin, so it won’t kill him. But it will be incredible satisfying.

She’s a pacifist. A pacifist. She’s not going to be shoving anything down anyone’s throat. Those days are behind her.

A single, steady beep emits from one of her monitors. She knows which one without have to look. There’s code rushing across it too fast for her to read, but that’s okay. It doesn’t matter. She knows exactly what it’s saying.

Finally.

“Get out,” she says, “I’m busy.”

He opens her mouth to argue, and Tara doesn’t give him the chance, grabbing him by his exceptionally bony shoulders and pushing him out of her shop. “I’ll fix your ship. Come back in two days.”

“Two days!” His face contorts into anger. She doesn’t have time for it, and slams the door in his face.

She runs back over to the monitor, scrolling through the mixes of ones and zeros until she finds what she needs. Coordinates.

When she enters them in, she curses, and slams the flat of her palm against the table. She’ll never make it there in time, not even if she had the materials to bend several of the rules of time and space. She’s a mechanic and an engineer, not a miracle worker.

She needs backup. They need back up.

Roksana is going to murder her.

“Hey, Han,” says a slim, petite Benaid witth the typical pale white color skin and wide pupiless eyes. He only comes up to Ji-won’s elbow, but he’s at least three times as strong as him, which is saying something. It’s obvious by the way he yanks a snarling, pissed off criminal on an electric lead like it weighs nothing at all.

“Barneet,” he responds, cordial. The tax evader who’s meekly following behind him seems even less impressive in comparison. Not that this is really a game he’s interested in winning.

Ji-won doesn’t like being a bounty hunter.

But he’s a quarter Human, a quarter Tilethikos, and half Pugnator.

The human is valuable, and the Tilethikian species is known for their empathy and intelligence.

It’s the Pugnator that damns him.

He’s never been able to get a clear answer on how his gentle, quiet father had ended up with a warrior bride of a species that spoke in crushed bones and bloody enemies more than actual words. It’s not like he can ask his mother either. She died a week after he was born, fighting over the rights to farm a couple miles of land that wasn’t even fertile enough to produce grass.

He can’t hide it either, there’s no way he can pass as mostly human, not like his father can. So he’s stuck doing this – hunting down wanted criminals and turning them in for reward money.

The irony isn’t lost on him.

He’s wanted criminal. If anyone found out who he was – what he used to do – then he’d always be on the run. The bounty on his head is ten times that of anyone he’s brought it.

Maybe that’s why Roksana betrayed them.

As soon as the thought enters his mind, he tosses it out. It’s been a long five years. Most days, he can keep himself from thinking about his former captain. Most days.

He turns his criminal in, gets his paltry reward, and is hurries back to his ship, nearly hitting his head as he opens the door and pulls himself inside. It’s cramped, a little thing, barely big enough for two people to squeeze inside. Addy is practically on his lap the few times they’ve flown together.

It can’t be helped. Addy has most of the world’s knowledge locked up somewhere in his head, but he’s not a mechanic, and it’s a struggle for the two of them to keep even a small ship in decent enough shape for cross-galaxy space travel. They make do with what they have.

Ji-won enters in the coordinates for Earth more out of instinct than anything else. He’s flown from this particular International Criminal Collection Center enough times that he could make the trip blind.

He checks his fuel level, then the crystal matrix, and he has enough fuel, and this crystal set is holding up much better than the last one.

Flying home usually takes around three days. But at lightspeed, it should only take about six hours.

Ji-won didn’t understand the math of it all himself, but he’s applied the equation enough times that he could make it work, even with a dinky ship on the periphery of deep space. He sends a quick message to Addy to let him know when he should be arriving, double checks his equation one last time, and shifts the lever forward.

If there’s something he’ll never get tired of, it’s the streak of starlight at the corner of his eyes as he maneuvers his ship around them.

Artificial Intelligence Human Simulation Unit #5432, more commonly known as Adexios, less commonly known as Addy, is falling apart.

He’s not quite the last of his kind, but he’s very, very close. It would be incorrect to say that that the Pandora Program had been a failure. It had, in fact, been a fantastic success. But they hadn’t actually wanted humans made of metal and code. They’d wanted something obedient and useful, and humans had only ever excelled at being the later.

That was over a hundred years ago. He only knows of one other unit still functioning, but considering one of her ongoing workplace goals is to see to his code deletion, it doesn’t really do him a lot of good.

He’s falling apart, and no one can fix him, not really. Even a hundred years later, he’s too complicated to reverse engineer, and all copies of the manual and his designs were destroyed long ago.

So now he’s here. A forgotten android on a forgotten planet.

No one lives on Earth anymore. It’s just him and Ji-won, trying to stop himself from falling apart, trying not to die before his lover.

Falling in love while he was falling apart is the worst thing he’s ever done. It’s one thing to die. It’s another thing entirely to die and leave someone behind. Adexios had tried leaving, had tried running, but his lover had simply followed him, all the way to a backwater planet where there’s nothing to eat but mostly poisonous plants and animals almost too tough to digest.

Ji-won had refused to let him leave. Because apparently they were both intent on making this as painful as possible for the both of them, it had just made Adexios love him more.

A high pitched beep echoes through the air, then another. He freezes, then scrambles into action, tripping over his feet and banging his hip against the side table in his rush. Pain shoots up his side, because of course his touch sensors are still going strong after a hundred years, even if nothing else is. He reaches the out of date tablet mounted on the wall, and swipes it open.

A Viatorum fills the screen, shoulder length white hair and dark navy skin. None of the tattoos Adexios knows she has are visible. “What’s wrong?”

He hasn’t spoken to Tara in years. Not since everything fell apart. She wouldn’t be calling him if it wasn’t an emergency.

“You’re on Earth,” she says, and he blinks, because, okay, clearly she’s been keeping closer tabs on him than he has her. “Tell me Ji-won is with you.”

“He’s off planet working on a job,” he says. “He should be back in a few hours.” There’s not a lot of work someone of Ji-won’s background can get. None of them are pleasant, and few are legal. They are trying so very hard to stay on the legal side of things. For once.

Tara slams her fist into the screen. The crack that appears across is on hers, not his, but for a moment it looks as if her anger had managed to force its way through the connection and break his tablet. “Damnit!”

“What’s wrong?” he repeats. “Why do you need Ji-won?”

Her lips press together and she asks, “Is this connection secure?”

He doesn’t answer, only crosses his arms. His body may be falling apart, but his mind is perfectly functional. As if any connection into his home wouldn’t be secure.

“The last one is coming, and Roksana just sent me coordinates and a time,” she says. “I’m too far away to try and intercept. You’re right there. I was hoping you could do it.”

If he had a stomach, it would lurch. He still feels a little queasy anyway. Roksana, who betrayed them, who left them for dead. Who found them and dusted them off and brought them together in the first place. “How could Roksana have gotten anything to you? I thought – they still have her locked up, don’t they?”

Roksana had abandoned them, had been captured, and everything else had fallen apart.

Tara ignores his question. “Can Ji-won make it back to intercept? We’re only going to have a two minute grace period after they arrive before the Agency swoops in.”

“You know this isn’t our job anymore, right?” he asks. He’s already grabbed a spare tablet to patch a message through to Ji-won. “What’s the time and coordinates?”

She tells him the coordinates, and it’s not too bad, right over where the main facility was, so at least it’s on the same continent. Then she tells him the time of arrival, and he just stares at her. “That’s in an hour! There’s no way Ji-won can make it back in time!”

“Then the Agency will get them,” Tara says. “Is that what you want?”

“How do you even know this information’s correct?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Roksana sent it through. It’s correct.” She rubs at the bridge of her nose, “The Agency is really going to get them. The last human from the past.”

He’s known Tara a long time. This is the most emotional he’s ever seen her, which doesn’t seem like much, but of their team, she was always the one people assumed was a robot.

“I’ll go,” he says. He doesn’t realize he’s made up his mind until the words are already out of his mouth. “I don’t have any viable spaceships, but there’s a hovercraft that’s fast enough to get me there in time.”

Tara’s head snaps up, her eyes wide. “You can’t do that! With your luck, your legs will stop working and you’ll be caught and dragged before Madame President. Who would love nothing more than to wipe your memory banks clear herself, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“How could I forget?” he asks dryly, opening a kitchen cabinet and taking down a box of spare electronics. He grabs a remote, an old communicator, and a computer missing it’s screen out of the box and starts stripping them for parts. “She’s the reason I’m hiding out a planet that’s been empty for six hundred years.” He rustles around for piece of tinfoil, and ends up using a gum wrapper. He undoes a stack of manuals for basic robots just so he can take the rubberband. There’s a soldering iron around here somewhere – oh, there! Excellent. “I’m not going to fight. Or run. I wouldn’t be able to get them out of there before we got caught.”

“Is that a slingshot?” Tara asks.

He holds it up proudly, along with a piece of smooth metal no bigger than the size of the nail on his pinky. “Yes. And a tracker. I’m not strong enough to take on a half dozen Agency mercenaries. But I can at least get a tracker on this person, and maybe if we’re lucky they’ll have to stop somewhere to refuel, or have engine trouble, or – well, maybe we’ll be able to save them.”

“I thought this wasn’t our job anymore?” She’s almost smiling.

“It’s not,” he says. “But you’re asking for help. So I’m going to give it to you.”

Tara softens. “Thank you.”

“Just say something nice at my funeral. I’m a dead man once Ji-won finds out what I did while he was out.” He gives Tara a cocky salute, and it’s almost like how it was before. He moves to end the call, but hesitates. “It’s good to see you again.”

She smiles at him, a rare expression that isn’t a scowl, and closes the line herself.

Well, time to go do something stupid, unnecessary, and suicidal.

Just like the old days.

Thargelia had to give up a lot to keep her programing functional, to remain not only part of the Agency, but also the head of it.

Humans are a hot commodity these days. Everyone wants to say that they met one or worked with one or hired one. Across the galaxy, people tell stories about the species that burned too hot and too fast, who died before they had a chance to begun. A chameleon species, who from the stories could be anything and everything given the proper motivation. A supernova people, and people so did love getting their hands on a bit of starlight.

It’s why her business model was sound.

Find those rare travelers who popped into being, train them, house them, feed them, give them the choice of many lucrative and interesting career paths, and pocket half their check for all her trouble.

The problem was, humans were drying up. There were less and less travelers, and those that had traveled before were disappearing too, because she was far from the only person interested at profiting off human curiosities.

Most people weren’t as nice as her, though. She offered opportunity, comfort, fairness.

All the traffickers provided was destitution or death.

But it was fine. Her team was on earth, awaiting the arrival of the last human traveler. No over eager trafficers were going to get in their way. Not that any of them had been able to for the past five years. After this human, second generation or more would be their only option.

She’s make it work. She always did.

Adexios has seen many human travelers, but this is the first time he’s seen one appear. The coordinate locations were closely guarded secrets, and the Agency hovered around the forgotten planet Earth like locusts, waiting for travelers to show up so they could be snatched up.

There were a fair number of poachers who circled the blue and green planet, hoping to get lucky and snatch up a human that the Agency wasn’t poised to grab, but there weren’t many left these days.

When Ji-won had wanted to move here, of all places on this very large planet, Adexios hadn’t argued. They’d never said anything out loud, swore up and down they were done with trafficking and running. Yet, in the whole universe, they chose to settle on Earth, still ended up in the place were so many travelers popped into their time.

They were about as good at lying to each other as they were at lying to themselves.

He’s sitting up in a tall tree, waiting. Climbing had been a pain, putting too much strain on his already failing support structures and gears. He’s going to have to wait until Ji-won gets home to help him down if he doesn’t want to break some other part of him that he had no idea how to fix.

The only warning he gets is a heat shimmer in the air, then a slice of blinding light and a sound that would cause his ears to ring if he was organic.

When the light dies down, there stands a young human man. He falls to his knees and vomits, a reaction he’s heard from many travelers is inevitable. He has dark skin, curly brown hair, and has on the same light, skintight clothes that all travelers get sent through wearing.

Adexios looks down at his shaking hands and takes several deep breaths, trying to get them under control. He’s just nervous, not breaking. He’s most worried about losing his fine motor control in the long run. Once that happens, he’ll have to direct Ji-won to do the physical work for anything they have to make, and he’ll become even more useless.

He doesn’t have much time. He places the tracker in the slingshot, aims for the human’s neck, takes one more deep breath, and lets it fly.

It lands in his mass of curly hair, and Adexios slaps his hand over his face. He used to be much better at this.

It’s fine, the tracker will stick to hair too. He thinks. Hopefully.

The man doesn’t notice, still busy emptying his stomach of its contents. He wishes he could go over and help, he wishes he could rub a hand down his bag and tell him that everything will be all right. But he can’t.

He can just sit there are sleek white ships descend around him, and various people with the Agency’s logo stamped across the back surround the man. They pull the man up and half carry, half drag him into the closest ship while those around them raise their tasers into the air.

Adexios would like to say they’re being paranoid, but they’re not. Real, original human travelers are worth a fortune, and poachers will do almost anything to claim one for their own. And this man is the very last human traveler. From here on out, they’ll have to make do with alien tainted decedents and cheap imitations.

They leave, and it’s probably safe for Adexios to climb down from the tree and go home. Except if he does that, he can already tell his systems are going to overheat, and he’ll end up prostrate on the ground unable to move until he cools down.

There’s no need to make Ji-won any angrier than necessary. He’ll just wait. Hopefully, he’ll reach acceptable temperatures before his lover gets home.

Tara isn’t a pilot, or a captain, or someone who particularly enjoys flying a metal tube through space at breakneck speeds. She’s a mechanic. When necessary, she’s even a passable nuclear engineer. But she’s not a pilot.

Luckily, these days ships will pilot themselves. Especially fussy tourist ships that have no business being flown into deep space to begin with. She told the Mitger that his ship would be ready in two days.

Instead she does a barely passable patch job in six hours, considers feeling guilty for a moment, and instead throws her dresser’s worth of belongings into a couple duffle bags, inputs Earth’s coordinates, and takes that jerk’s ship into the sky. She hopes it will survive the trip.

It’s been three years of waiting, of silence, of rotting in the middle of nowhere waiting for a sign. Now that Roksana has sent her one, she’s not going to sit around wasting her time any longer.

Adexios gets an alert when Ji-won’s ship enters the atmosphere. As much as he doesn’t want Ji-won to see him like this, having his partner come back to an empty home would be so much worse. He gives in and sends him his coordinates along with a short message saying he could use a hand.

Less than a half hour later, Adexios can see Ji-won cutting through the field towards him.

He looks unfairly good in the light of the setting sun. A golden halo surrounds his short black hair, and it makes his skin looks warm, both the soft, tan human skin and the places where it blends to pebbly purple from his mother’s side in a neat diamond pattern. His clothes look like they’ve seen better days. It’s a good thing fabric is easy to manufacture, even if Ji-won is the only of them with any skill with a needle.

“What the hell are you doing up there?” he demands as soon as he’s close enough. “What if I hadn’t come back today? What if it had rained? You could have rusted!”

Adexios doesn’t roll his eyes only because he knows it will infuriate him. “All of my technological components are covered by three inches of waterproof synthetic skin. As you well know. I’m not going to rust.”

Ji-won crosses his arms, head craned back to look at him. “Addy. Why are you in a tree? Why did you waste your limited amount of energy to climb a tree?”

“How about you help me down first, and then I’ll tell you?”

Ji-won sighs. Adexios had struggled to pull himself up the tree, worried about moving too fast and overheating himself. Ji-won doesn’t have that problem, and he has the added advantage of Pugnator strength. He doesn’t even use his legs or set his feet down, just uses his hands to pull his entire body weight up the tree until he reaches the branch Adexios is straddling, not even out of breath. “You have a leaf in your hair,” he says, running his hand through Adexios’s hair, presumably to get the leaf out.

He picks Adexios up, an arm under the back of his knees and against his back. Adexios loops an arm around the back of his neck to help steady himself, but he knows he doesn’t need to. Ji-won jumps from the branch and he barely feels it when Ji-won’s feet hit the ground. He starts walking, presumably back to his ship, and Adexios doesn’t waste his breath saying he could walk on his own. “Thank you.”

“Will you tell me what you were doing now?” he asks. “I wish you’d wait for me to be home before doing stuff like this. What if you overheat or your code glitches in the middle of the forest?”

Adexios ignores the last part. While getting into that familiar argument might buy him some time, he’s still going to have to tell Ji-won the truth, and he’d rather he wasn’t in a bad mood from them arguing when he hears it. “Tara called.”

There’s a moment where Ji-won’s every muscle tenses, then he forces himself to relax. “Oh?”

“She had the coordinates of the last human traveler.”

Ji-won freezes. “No.”

“I couldn’t do anything, obviously,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as bitter as he feels. “But I put a tracker on him. I think she’s planning to go to after them.” He’s also pretty sure Tara’s going to ask for their help, but he’ll save that bit of information for later.

“Where did she get the coordinates?” he asks. “I thought she was pretending to be a no name mechanic in the middle of nowhere.”

To the sticking place, and all that. “Roksana.”

Ji-won slowly, carefully puts him back on his feet.

Adexios grabs onto his arm with both hands. “Don’t – look, don’t overreact.” He winces as soon as he says it.

“I’ll just be a couple of minutes,” he says in that completely calm tone of voice that Adexios hates. He pries Adexios’s hands off of him, then goes walking towards the nearest tree.

His purple, pebbled skin shifts and grows to cover him, and he snaps his arm out against the trunk of the nearest tree. A twelve inch long pale white blade snaps out of his skin and slices through the tree, then he does the same with his other arm. The thirty foot tree falls to the side with a dramatic crash that shakes the ground, but Ji-won has already moved on to the next one.

Adexios sighs, but sits on the ground and pulls his knees to his chest.

They don’t have secrets, but they do have silences. Roksana has been one that Adexios hasn’t been able to break through these past five years.

Isaiah has no sooner arrived in the future than he’d been ushered onto a ship by creatures that didn’t look anything close to human.

That answered the intelligent life question, at least.

They’re speaking to him, but he it’s in language he can’t understand, or a variety of languages he doesn’t understand. Once they get him inside, they don’t touch him, just direct him to a seat, strap him in, and rocket into the air. They go past the clouds and break into the empty darkness of space, and Isaiah wishes his seat was next to a window.

A gangly bright yellow alien with four arms and two dozen blue eyes sits down next to him. It takes out a tablet, and presses a few buttons on it. A light, female voice speaks from the tablet. It sounds like – Chinese? Those two dozen eyes are all focused on him, and he just shakes his head.

She presses another button, and this time the same voice speaks in Spanish. He can order dinner and start a bar fight in Spanish, and that’s about it. He shakes his head again.

Another press of a button, and clear, familiar English comes out of the tablet. “Hello, traveler. Do not be afraid. You have arrived in the year three thousand forty eight. We are your friends. You are not the first traveler to arrive in our time, and you are being taken to others of your kind. The transition to your new home will go much smoother if you are able to understand those are around you, and be understood in return. Many beings in today’s day in age have a translator implanted in order to ease interplanetary communication. Do you consent to receiving this translator?”

He waits, but the voice doesn’t continue speaking, nor does anyone move to make him respond.

What’s got to lose? He’s a thousand years in the future traveling on a spaceship with a bunch of aliens. He nods.

The yellow alien stands up, and opens a compartment to pull out a large syringe, making him immediately regret his decision. It stands behind him and presses the syringe to the base of his neck. There’s a sharp pain, and for a moment everything goes hazy around him, but when he blinks everything back in place, the chatter surrounding him suddenly makes sense. It’s not that he understands the languages everyone is speaking, it’s that now they all sound like English. It’s all technical jargon and report he doesn’t really understand.

“Better?” He looks to the yellow alien. Its voice is deep, and soft. He nods again, slightly wary of speaking out loud.

“Do not worry,” it says, kind. “We are the Agency. It is our pleasure and duty to help the remaining humans and their decedents.”

“Remaining?” he echoes. He twists to look behind them to see his blue and green planet getting smaller and smaller behind them.

It places on of its hand on his back. It’s cold. “Your kind has been extinct for hundreds of years. All that remains is your travelers.”

It shouldn’t matter, not really. Everyone he knew is long dead either way. But it feels like someone dug out his heart with a spoon. “We’re all gone? Earth is just – vacant?”

“I did not mean to distress you,” it says earnestly. “Earth is home to much fauna, and a significant minority of animals. Some aliens choose to make their homes on this planet. But there are no more humans on Earth.”

“Oh,” he says. “Okay.”

That doesn’t make it better. At all. But he has a lot to process, including the extinction of his own species, apparently.

“Miss Sassani,” says an old, rough voice. From the sound, he’s standing right in of her, but it hurts too much to raise her head. “They are coming. They’ve retrieved the last human.” There’s a brief pause before he adds on, in case she couldn’t figure it out herself, “Your people failed.”

“Watch it,” she croaks, tilting her head back even with the white hot agony that it sends down her spine. The old man in a janitor’s uniform mopping in front of her cell looks almost entirely human, from his short grey hair to the wrinkles that settle naturally over his face. It’s the electric blue eyes that give him away. They’re almost glowing in the low light. “They can’t fail at an objective they didn’t have. I sent coordinates. Not instructions.”

“You wanted them to fail?” he asks. He’s not looking at her, so anyone watching them on the camera won’t notice anything odd.

She shrugs, unwilling to answer.

He sighs at her silence. “You know, if you were not so antagonist toward the Madame, she would not order such …creative interrogation methods.”

“If I give that bitch an inch, she’ll take a mile. If she wants my silence, she can kill me and take it from my corpse,” she says, and doesn’t flinch when her smile splits her bottom lip open again. “Get out of here, Archi. Too much time spent talking to a prisoner can’t look good for you.”

He almost looks like he wants to say something. Instead he finishes mopping the place in front of her cell and says, almost too soft for her to hear. “Get some rest, Roksana.”

Roksana Sassani snorts and leans against the wall. She makes sure Archi is long gone before letting her eyes slide shut as she takes in slow, careful breathes in an attempt not make her damaged rip cage even worse.

Her people don’t fail. What a preposterous suggestion.

#i have a general outline for this but idk how long it will be or how much of it i'll post unfinished #we'll see i guess #also idk if anyone's into my weird alient story #so yolo #osd

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alittlelife · 6 years ago

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By Naomi Fry. June 3, 2019.

#keanu reeves #**

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mayacatmaster · 6 years ago

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I have wolf blood; and wolf bones.. Don’t expect me to graze with the sheep *** *** ***

I Didn't Come This Far To Let Your Opinions Stop Me *** *** *** Man Who Is Not Able To Develop And Use His Mind Is Bound To Be The Slave Of The Other Man Who Uses His Mind. *** *** ***

Remember…: Your gift to the world is the illumination of your authentic self. *** *** *** Stay true to yourself because there are very few people who will always be true to you. *** *** *** When you truly don't care what the fuck anyone thinks of you, you have reached a dangerously awesome level of freedom.. !! *** *** *** Some People Will Only Like You If You Fit Inside Their Box Don’t Be Afraid To Shove That Box Up Their Ass. *** *** *** Before you ask why someone hates you, ask yourself why you give a fuck. *** *** *** I was told I could become anything I wanted So I became ungovernable. *** *** ***

I'll never fit in. That's one of my best qualities... ~Terri Willingham *** *** *** Be Badass. Find Your Fierceness Stay Strong *** *** *** Man Who Is Not Able To Develop And Use His Mind Is Bound To Be The Slave Of The Other Man Who Uses His Mind. *** *** *** Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our mind. *** *** *** So…: I Didn't Come This Far To Let Your Opinions Stop Me *** *** *** In the end, people will judge you anyway, so don't live your life impressing others live your life impressing yourself. *** *** ***

Because…: One who lacks independent thinking becomes a victim. ~Vernest Hines Likkel - *** *** *** Your Government appreciates your blind obedience and willful ignorance. So what under your Government control …. : The religion/moral/education/media/social-country-belief-system Always preach and teach blind obedience and willful ignorance Is you as mankind the most high Supreme virtue, duty, obligations, good deeds, and divine virtues. Is One-size-fits-all mankind Eternal life truth. *** *** ***

"Sometimes the greatest adventure is simply a conversation" *** *** *** What you want wisdom and insight as badly as you want to breathe, it is than you shall have it. ~Socrates *** *** *** Fools have no interest in understanding, they only want to air their own opinions. *** *** *** I Used To Care What People Thought About Me Until One Day I Tried To Pay My Bills With Their Opinions *** *** *** When you truly don't care what anyone thinks of you, you have reached a dangerously awesome level of freedom....!!!

*** *** ***

So…: Loyal people get hurt the most. True or False? *** *** *** Until someday, someone Said….: Pay Attention….. In The Mindset Journal People Who Play Roles Will Eventually Forget Their Lines. *** *** *** If You Are Unwilling To Question Your Beliefs You Will Never Be Know If You Are Following Truth Or Lies *** *** ***

I know you won't believe me, but the highest form of Human Excellence is to question oneself and others. ~Socrates *** *** *** Especially….: When your buddy is having a ego death use the name of God/religion/morality/country-social-family-belief-system and says he is dying ~First time??? *** *** *** And really do you really, really, really consider this first time, a ego death for the name of God/religion/morality/country-social-family-belief-system??? Really??? *** *** *** I know you won't believe me, but the highest form of Human Excellence is to question oneself and others. ~Socrates *** *** *** So…: Very weird is a lot of gurus, saints or teachers through religion/morality/education-system or ‘so call’ holy books preach and teach you how to be a sheep , how to act like sheep and died as sheep, and they call it teach you or help you ….” awake or enlightenment”??? To mess with and confuse the humankind-heart, no more than this…><!!! *** *** ***

Thinking scientifically means being open minded to the possibility of side being wrong.

If you cannot accept evidence that is contrary to what you want to believe, you are practicing religion, not science.

*** *** ***

And…: You are a victim of the rules you live by. *** *** *** If this is all a dream, a Maya, a mirage, it's long as fuck....: Because lesson repeats until it is learned….: It has 5000 years in China, It has 7,000 years in India,….: *** *** *** You are a victim of the rules you live by. Because the rules only teach and preach to kiss any kind of Dark-Tyrant-Ruler’s-belief-system. Because the rules only teach and preach To kiss any kind of Dark-Tyrant-Ruler’s-Ass. *** *** *** No matter it’s in your country, your religion, your morality-belief-system, your education-belief-system, your books, TV, newspaper media-education-system, your family-belief-system, …: *** *** *** You are a victim of the rules you live by. Because the rules don’t service for you alignment with your “Source”(True Self; Tao; Brahma). Because the rules don’t sever for you as an alignment-deliberate-creator. *** *** *** What is Insanity ? Following any kind of Dark-tyrant-ruler’s-belief-system or don’t kiss any kind of Dark-tyrant-ruler’s-ass. *** *** *** And…: We meet ourselves time and time again in thousand disguises on the path of Life. ~Carl Jung *** *** *** Your heart will never lie to you, that’s your mind’s job. ~Medusa *** *** *** The simple believeth every word: but the prudent man looketh well to his going. 愚蒙人是話都信，智慧通達者步步審慎。～Proverbs 14:15 King James Bible *** *** *** And….: "Don't be afraid to lose people. Be afraid of losing yourself by trying to please everyone around you'' *** *** *** Distance Yourself For A Bit. You’ll Realize A Lot. *** *** *** Loyal people get hurt the most. True or False? *** *** *** Especially when whole religion/morality/country/social/education/media/family-belief-system, Their mindset-application software already coding by dark-tyrant-ruler’s “brainwash”(preach; teach) people only know kiss their ass by blind obey. *** *** *** Because…: NOTHING IS SO LOVED BY TYRANTS AS ARE OBEDIENT SUBJECTS. ~Clarence Darrow *** *** *** The eyes are useless, when the heart is blind. *** *** *** And since your whole mindset-program control your whole life itself. *** *** *** Looking for truth? Observe people's habitual behavior patterns/cycles. The truth is in their patterns and cycles. Not so much their words. *** *** *** So…: Who's the badass rebel black sheep of the fam destroying the matrix…..^^!!! *** *** *** In the end, people will judge you anyway, so don't live your life impressing others live your life impressing yourself. *** *** ***

And…:

I Don't Get Mad I Get Distant just like aliens.…: Body living in this world but heart not in this world. Thing happen on body, but heart take it as if happen on somebody.

*** *** *** Maybe…: You're crazy to everyone that can't manipulate you. *** *** ***

Being Considered crazy by those who are still victims of cultural/religion/morality-belief-system Conditioning is a compliment. *** *** *** And…: Connection doesn't care about the laws of the land. Your soul will be pulled to the place it belongs. *** *** ***

So…:

If you don't see the value of having me by your side, I won't convince you. *** *** *** And you can't get to know the real you if the fake you is out here trying to appease the fake people. You all have to get into your Vortexes before you're going to have any real experience with anyone. ~Abraham *** *** *** Remember…: Your gift to the world is the illumination of your authentic self. *** *** *** Stay true to yourself because there are very few people who will always be true to you. *** *** *** When you truly don't care what the fuck anyone thinks of you, you have reached a dangerously awesome level of freedom.. !! *** *** *** Some People Will Only Like You If You Fit Inside Their Box Don’t Be Afraid To Shove That Box Up Their Ass. *** *** *** Before you ask why someone hates you, ask yourself why you give a fuck. *** *** *** I was told I could become anything I wanted So I became ungovernable. *** *** ***

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fan-tasticfour · 8 years ago

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Did I hear a request for literally all of Uendo Toneido’s in-game dialogue? Cuz now you’re getting it.

( Dedicated to @alexandritethegreat who commented in tags on another post: “#i admire the op because i'd just list like all of their lines”. )

( ...Also under a Read More because this post is MASSIVE. )

[ FINDING TAIFU ]

U - Sh-Shisho's dead...? No... D-Do you think... HE did it?

P - Oh, no! I-If he did... then wh-what do we do?!

K - Hey, pull yourself together!

K - Don't worry. I have an idea...

[ INTRODUCTION ]

U – I am the rakugo storyteller Uendo Toneido. Even if my performance isn’t worth watching, I will certainly watch my words. I wouldn’t want to say anything thoughtless and get arrested.

P – After all, that’d be…a “raku-no-no”! Hee hee!

U – Thank you everybody! Good night!

U – [ fucking UP AND LEAVES ]

[ RETURNS TO THE WITNESS STAND ]

P – Oh, my, my!

U – Are you a fan of mine, miss? Would you like my autograph? One moment… [ signs the thing and throws it at her face. Athena is not a happy lawyer. ] No need to stand on ceremony! My fan deserves a fan, after all.

P – A “fan” for a “fan”! Nice one! Hee hee! Oh, why if it isn’t Simon! How are you on this fine day, sir?

U – Quite a dilly of a pickle we’ve found ourselves in, wouldn’t you say?

P – Never performed in a place like this, y’know. I got butterflies here, can’t you see? Hee hee!

U – Ah, I suppose you’re right. In that “case”…

P – I was promoted to “futatsume” yesterday, and received the stage name of “Uendo”. The show was our way of celebrating my new name and “middle rank” standing! Hee!

K – And then THAT happened… Haah… I never dreamed something like that’d happen, not in a million years. And just as I got my chance to start repaying my debt to Shisho, too…

U – Yeah… Plus, I’m worried about Geiru… The way she clung to Shisho… Poor thing. I told her to keep a stiff upper lip… Stiff like rigor mortis…

K – Keep telling those lame jokes, and Shisho’ll come scold you from the grave!

U – I wouldn’t mind getting yelled at, you know, if it meant seeing him again.

[ WITNESS TESTIMONY #1 ]

U – I noticed Shisho’s dying message right away.

U – The stiff cards were right next to the stiff, you see.

P – Hey now, enough with the silly puns already! Hee hee!

U – Anyway, I got the meaning right away. I knew it must’ve been talking about Bucky!

K – That was the master’s final message, left as he was drowning in soba brother. It’s so like Shisho not to write Bucky’s name outright. “Plain and simple” wasn’t his style.

[ COMMENTARY ]

U – It’s obvious. All you have to do is look at the crime scene. He was found with his face shoved in a bowl.

K – It’s only natural to assume he was drowned in the broth for the noodles!

P – My, my! It’s so like a chef to kill someone this way, wouldn’t you say? And with the karuta message he left behind, it’s clear Bucky Whet did it!

K – Bucky used soba for the deed, all to get back the soba shop deed.

[ CROSS-EXAMINATION ]

[ Statement #1 ]

U – Well, it was a coded message right there next to the body. I’m sure anybody would’ve thought that they were there to name his killer. I love murder mysteries, and often watch them on TV.

U – I saw a similar scene during a murder mystery marathon last Tuesday. That’s what made me think, “This must be a dying message!”

[ Statement #2 ]

U – As I said, the stiff cards were right there next to the stiff, so they were hard to miss.

U – The message just caught my eye, because the stiff cards were right there next to the stiff.

U – Stiff cards…next to the stiff…

U – *sigh*…

[ Statement #3 ]

P – But look at all these wonderful people in the audience! It’s only natural for an entertainer to want to have some fun! Hee hee! I guess we can let a few jokes slide, right?

P – Right, right! That’s exactly what I’m talking about! Well done, Your Honor! Guess you can’t judge a judge by his cover!

P – Much obliged! Hee hee!

[ Statement #4 ]

U – There’s only one “Whet Noodle” around here, and you’ve seen that giant “4″ on his back. It’s the only interpretation that makes sense!

P – Wh-What is it?!

K – [ smoking after Athena suggesting there was another whet noodle ]

[ Statement #5 ]

U – I know Shisho. He would never let someone get the last word on him, even in death. With his face in the soba broth, and his consciousness fading away… …he left a message that pointed toward Bucky as he left this world. It’s the only way it could’ve happened!

K – Look, a dying message is something you leave as you’re dying, right? I saw a scene like that in a detective show.

U – But talking is my livelihood, you know. I talk all the time. This and that, truths and untruths… I can’t stop myself from talking!

[ Statement #6 ]

U – Even in the throes of death, it was in Shisho’s nature to throw in a twist somehow. Truly the consummate entertainer till the very end, don’t you think?

P – If I ever bite the big one like that… …I wanna leave a message just as good as Shisho’s! Hee hee!

[ OBJECTION! ]

U – [sips tea nervously. spits it out when Athena points out lack of broth in Taifu’s lungs ]

P – M-Me?!

P – Well, those cards are from Shisho’s special “Soba Scenes of Tokyo Past” set. Each card is related in some way to soba.

P – Well, uh, there was soba broth spilled all over them…

K – No. There’s no one named “Owen” in the Toneido family, or our circle of friends.

U – Go ahead, ask anybody you’d like!

U – Are you accusing me of rearranging the cards?

K – ME, who came to testify out of the goodness of my heart?!

U – *sip* *sip*

P – Eep! M-Mr. Prosecutor! What’s a guy supposed to do at a time like this?

U – Oh, I see. So that’s what they’re after, is it? In that case… Your Honor, I’ve decided not to say another word.

U – That’s right. I’m not going to fall for it.

U – E-Even so, I have the right to refuse to answer.

U – [ silent tea sipping ]

K – Are you saying I should quit?! Because I’m not afraid to speak my mind, I’ll have you know.

P – Oh, no! Never mind what I just said! It IS scary to talk! It’s absolutely terrifying!

K – But, no! As a rakugo artist, I must talk! If I don’t, how can I ever show my face on stage again?! Your Honor, I’m ready to testify!

[ WITNESS TESTIMONY #2 ]

K – After my performance, I went to visit Shisho.

P – I called him from outside the room… but he didn’t reply.

U – When I entered the dressing room, I saw Shisho slumped over the table, motionless!

[ COMMENTARY ]

K – Of course there aren’t any. Because I’m not trying to hide anything.

K – It’s fine by me! I have nothing to hide. Bring it on!

[ MOOD MATRIX #1.1 ]

K – After my performance, I went to visit Shisho.

P – I called to him from outside the room…

P – …but he didn’t reply.

U – When I entered the dressing room, I saw Shisho slumped over the table, motionless!

[ OBJECTION! ]

U – “Some thin stranger with cheesy toe skin,” you say?

U – I don’t know. Maybe it’s me who’s got some cheese in my ears…

[ 80% of his cushion pile is gone. Athena questions if he willed the floor to open from underneath and swallow them. (Personally, I say yes.) ]

U – So what was this unexpected thing you noticed?

[ Cushion overload!! They had to take some away from him again. ]

U – I-Is it, though?

[ Zoned Out ]

U – Yeah, you got me! I’m a total space case! Ha ha ha!

K – Well, get your head out of the clouds and go do some work for a change!

P – Don’t worry, honey! I found a wallet the other day. We have plenty of money to live on now!

[ Entertainer’s Guts ]

P – Sadly, I busted a gut laughing at Shisho’s bits last week.

U – Now I’m practically gutless… Does my tale of woe pluck at your gutstrings?

A – Don’t you mean heartstrings?

U – Sorry, I was just trying to match…

P – …the level of nonsense coming out of your mouth, lady! Hee hee!

K – If you don’t like it, just say so! Go on, spill your guts!

[ ALREADY DEAD ]

P – Wh-Whaaat?! What kind of a thing is that to say?! You’ve got it all wrong…! O-Oh, right! I just remembered something! I thought Shisho was just sleeping when I first saw him! Hee hee!

U – Well, he had his head and arms up on the table, as if he were taking a nap.

P – Oh, and one other thing! There was that note, too!

P – Yes! That’s the note I saw! After reading that, who wouldn’t think Shisho was napping?!

K – That’s right. I saw this note, so that’s why I thought Shisho was asleep.

P – I want to change my testimony to include that statement!

[ MOOD MATRIX #1.2 ]

K – After my performance, I went to visit Shisho.

P – I called to him from outside the room…

P – …but he didn’t reply.

U? – When I opened the door, I thought he was sleeping.

K? – But something seemed off, so I rushed over to him.

U? – I was shocked to find him dead! I couldn’t believe my eyes!

[ The ‘?’ are my personal speculation because it’s the only part of the testimony where the speaker is unclear. ]

[ OBJECTION! ]

P – “Funny”, you say?! I guess an entertainer of my caliber can make people laugh, even with my emotions!

P – What Hmm… Let’s see… Oh, yeah! Now I remember! As I was going in, I whacked my little piggy on something. I was annoyed at my own clumsiness! Hee hee!

P – J-Just a little bump on my little piggy. N-N-No big deal… I-It’s embarrassing, really…

K – You tell her. Really, who doesn’t stub their toe every one in a while? You really gotta fuss over every small detail like this?

[ Wrong Selection ]

P – Oh, I could never stub my toe on that!

U – That would really be starting things out on the wrong foot! Right, Mr. Golden-Ager?

[ TELEVISION ]

P – Y-Yes, you’re right… It was the TV!

U – Y-Yes, I stubbed my pinky toe on the TV. B-B-But what of it? Why is this so important to you?

U – Shisho must’ve moved it so he could watch my routine. But what a place to put it! Right in the middle of the doorway like that! I didn’t want to bump into it again, so I put it back where it belonged.

P – That’s right. It’s a closed-circuit monitor that shows the stage.

P – O-Oh my! Yes, you’re right! The TV hit the table, and Shisho’s body moved with a jolt… That’s when I first realized that Shisho was dead! Oh! But how scared I was!

P – A-All right.

[ MOOD MATRIX #1.3 ]

K – After my performance, I went to visit Shisho.

P – I called to him from outside the room…

P – …but he didn’t reply.

U – When I opened the door, I thought he was sleeping.

K – I tried to enter the dressing room, but stubbed my toe on the TV.

U – When I put the TV back in its normal spot, I realized Shisho was dead!

P – Seeing him slumped over that cluttered table…*sniff*…Oh, Shisho…

[ Wrong Answer ]

U – Match, match… Ahhh, I see. “MATCH”, as in…

P – “Manage to Assert

K – a Thoughtful, Calculated Hypothesis.”

U – In other words, YOU are the something here that didn’t “MATCH”, correct?

[ Simon, being a punny little shit – “Looks like you’ve met your match.” ]

[ OBJECTION! ]

P – Wh-What do you mean?

K – S-Search me. Your little thingy must’ve made a mistake!

U – Well, I…Er…

U – Nnnngh… I… I-I…!

[ Wrong Answer ]

U – I can express many emotions, such as surprise, sadness, and anger upon my cushions. To me, these expressions are simply an act. If I lost control over such things, I wouldn’t be very effective on stage, now would I?

[ KARUTA CARDS ]

P – I, er…

U – [ nervously sipping tea ]

P – Nnngh! [ noise (...and cushion) level to 0% ]

[ U.3.N.D.0 ]

U – YOU. ARE. CORRECT. I. AM. A. ROBOT. BEEP BOOP BOOP!

K – Hah! What a space cadet!

[ Superpowers ]

P – Oh, yes! I make these butterflies dance in the air with psychokinesis. Hee hee!

K – NOT! They’re floating on the breeze of my fan, that’s all.

U – I’m very sad to say I don’t have any supernatural powers.

[ MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES ]

U – (SPITS OUT TEA)

P – H-H-How did she know? How did she figure it out?!

K – Hey, you! Lawyer girl! You got a problem with us?! Huh?!

U – Uendo Toneido. I’m a rakugo storyteller, as you know.

P – Hello, everybody! Patches, the friendly jester here! Hee hee!

K – Hmph. Kisegawa. Courtsean.

A – And is that all of you?

U – Yes, that’s all of us.

[ Wrong Answer ]

P – Wow! You are amazingly heedless, aren’t you!

[ FOURTH PERSONALITY ]

U – N-No! That’s not why! We kept our disorder a secret for a different reason altogether.

P – We’ve been taking advantage of our affliction to act out various rakugo characters. If word of this got out, well…

K – …our reputation as a rakugo artist would be tarnished, as would the Toneido name.

U – That’s why we kept it a secret from everyone except members of the Toneido school. But really, there is no “fourth personality”. It’s just the three of us in here.

U – B-But…!

P – Y-Yes, I’m afraid so! Really stunk up the stage, I did! Hee hee!

U – And yet, I have a perfect alibi!

P – Okey-dokey-smokey!

[ WITNESS TESTIMONY #3 ]

U – I was onstage until just moments before I went into the dressing room.

K – The entire audience was my witness.

P – But my performance was a huge bust. Not a single soul laughed!

U – I’ll never be able to live down how terribly I bombed during that very important show.

[ CROSS-EXAMINATION ]

[ Statement #1 ]

U – Are you asking whether it could’ve been some imposter?

U – Unlike a big arena, a rakugo theater is a cozy, little place. It would be hard to fool an audience in such an intimate setting, don’t you think?

U – Good. I’m glad we could clear that up, because I guess you could say…

[ Statement #2 ]

K – Not a thing. Everything was the same as always. Mr. Prosecutor, you questioned the audience, didn’t you?

P – Oh…It’s so embarrassing! I tried my best! Really, I did…

[ Statement #3 ]

K – Hmm… I’m not sure if it was my performance, or if it was just that particular audience… Or maybe it was the story I picked. But every entertainer knows that this kind of thing happens from time to time.

[ Press #3 > Audience Number ]

K – Well, let’s see. We drew a full house, so… …I think there must have been fifty, maybe sixty people in the audience.

P – Exactly! I dropped a big, stinky bomb in front of all those people. It was a catastrophe, I tell you! I was sweating buckets from start to finish!

[ Statement #4 > Fifty People ]

U – That’s right. Everybody was just staring in silence at me. It was simply awful.

K – What are you trying to say?

P – O-Of course there were people in the audience! It was a full house, I tell you! Lots of regulars. Want me to ask ‘em all to come here?

[ Press #3 > What you performed ]

U – I could, but I’m not sure if it would mean anything to the uninitiated.

U – All right. If you insist… The story I performed is called “Tokisoba”– otherwise known as “Time Soba”.

[ Statement #4 > Performance ]

K – Well…I suppose I was a little nervous… It’s a lot of pressure when you’re the star of such an important show, you know?

U – I wanted so badly to live up to the great name of “Uendo” that I inherited… …that I guess I overperformed a little this time.

U – That’s right. The name belonged to one of Shisho’s former disciples who died of illness at a young age.

U – In that case, can I count on your sympathy, and have you go a little easier on me?

[ Statement #5 ]

K – Well, aren’t YOU a regular rude daisy?! Do you really think a rakugo artist who regularly bombs would get promoted? In fact, I’m known as the Toneido School’s “Whirl-Uendo of Laughter”, I’ll have you know!

U – [ fucking sadfacing at the nickname being insulted ]

P – Hee hee. I’m glad you like it!

[ OBJECTION! ]

U – Odd? N-No, I don’t think tere’s anything odd about it.

U – [ SPITS OUT TEA ]

K – Well… You see… The reason for that is…

U – How do I say this… You see… Um, let’s say it was a, uh… a prank…

P – Th-That’s right! It was just a little joke, you see! H-Hee hee! I was trying to surprise Shisho by performing his routine before he did!

[ Performance ]

U – But Shisho’s scheduled routine is written right here in the invitation.

P – Here, why don’t you read what Shiso was going to perform out loud?

K – “You just earned yourself a penalty, defense!”

[ Cause of death ]

P – Come on! Not even a jester like me thinks the cops would be fooled by such a silly trick.

K – Besides, the story I was originally going to do, “Soba Glutton”, also features soba.

[ TIME OF DEATH ]

P – Eeeeeeeek!

U – [ spits tea ]

P – Yipes!

U – [ SPITS MORE TEA ]

U – Ngh…

U – ……….

U – Nnngh… …I-I confess. I-I tampered with the crime scene.

K – Now wait just one minute! Yes, I admit to messing with the dressing room, but I didn’t kill Shisho!

K – I… I refuse to answer that question!

U – …Geez. Not that again. I told you we don’t know anything about this “Owen”!

P – Bravo! You tell ‘em, Mr. Prosecutor! Hee hee!

P – I-I exercise my right to remain silent!

P – Sh-Shut up! I will remain silent, and that’s it!

K – Patches, you fool! You stay out of this!

[ WITNESS TESTIMONY #4 ]

U – I’ve never met any personality named “Owen”.

K – Patches was just blurting out nonsense in a panic.

P – We’re always aware, so we’d definitely notice if a personality like that showed up!

K – How dare you treat me like a criminal based on mere conjecture?!

[ CROSS-EXAMINATION ]

[ Statement #1 ]

U – Well, it’s more like all three of us are always here. And the personality that is most suited to the moment is the one that comes out.

P – Well, we never know when our turn will come, right?

K – So we stand by, and listen.

U – I never really thought about it, but I guess that’s right.

[ Statement #2 ]

P – Hee hee! Why, hello! You rang?

P – Well, er… You see…

K – I’ll take over from here, if you don’t mind! Listen. I hate to say it, but Patches is about as smart as a sack of rocks. If you grill him with a bunch of highfaluting words, he’s going to want to keep silent.

K – Well, I don’t know about that. But, anyway… …I do know that Patches was just flustered, and that’s why he decided to remain silent.

[ Statement #3 ]

U – Wh-What would happen? I’m not even sure what you mean…

U – N-Ngh…!

K – Comparing us to cockroaches– do we bug you that much, girlie?!

[ Statement #4 ]

U – But how can you be so sure that that’s what the cards really mean?

U – Well, for example, “Owen, the fourth hitter”!

P – He’s a baseball player! A really great one, too! Owen Gonzales, thirty-six years old. He’s a “cleanup”, fourth-place hitter, of course.

U – Well, then how about this? Maybe it means

P – “OWE N 4 TH”, like “I owe ‘N’ four thousand.”

U – What? “N” isn’t a person! It was Shisho’s favorite hobby shop, “N-Joy”. He was a huge model train collector.

U – Maybe he owed the hobby shop some money. So he left a note to remind himself.

K – Shisho worked in mysterious ways.

K – I’m being completely serious! The point is, “OWEN 4TH” could mean just about anything!

[ Wrong Answer ]

P – I may be soft in the noggin, but I don’t see a single bruise on my head. Do you?

[ RICE WINE SAKE ]

K – Oh please. Don’t call it “rice wine”. That’s so unsophisticated. And it’s not even “wine”. Hmph. Silly girl.

K – I drank sake? Oh, that’s a good one!

U – We have a real sweet tooth, you see, so, yes, we did accept a sugary, red-bean bun… …but since we really dislike sake, we said no, thank you to that.

P – Believe it or not, we’re real weak when it comes to booze. Hee hee! Even a tiny drop can knock us right out!

U – So, you see… …I had a sweet manju bun, but I didn’t drink any sake.

U – Yes, that’s right.

U – I don’t recall doing anything like that.

U – Well, yes…That’s right.

U – [ SPITS OUT TEA ]

K – H-Hmph! What kind of lightweight do you think I am?! Even I wouldn’t pass out from eating a single manju!

[ AFTER RECESS ]

U – ……….Ngh…

U – D-Don’t be ridiculous! A sweet little snack like this couldn’t possibly… I-I mean, it could never…

U – Ngh… F-Fine. whatever!

U – *chomp* *chomp* … *gulp*

U – See? I told you… It don– don’t affect me in the suh– slightest! *hic*

P – We might be a liiightweight, but c’mooon, nnnobody’s THAAAT l-light. Hee hee!

K – Hmph. Sh-Sheriouslyyy… Nobody ge’s drunk offa wuh, wuh, one lil’ bun… *hic*

[ OWEN ]

O – Oooooh… *sniffle*

O – Oooh… *sniffle*…M-My name is Owen… I’m…five.

O – A-Am I in trouble…? Please don’t yell at me… Oooh…

O – Shisho… Shisho…! *sniffle*

O – Uwahhhhh!

O – Uwahhh! Whatta scary lady!

O – O-Okay… Shisho was��super nice… He always played with me… Just ike… Just like a real grandpa. I loved Shisho… *sniffle*

O – Ooohhh… *sniffle*

O – I-I saw it… I saw Shisho getting…

O – Y-Yeah…

[ WITNESS TESTIMONY ]

O – Shisho was standing with a knife in his hand…

O – Blood was dripping onto Shisho’s face, getting it all red..

O – I couldn’t move at all!

O – I was so scared… I passed out.

[ COMMENTARY ]

O – I…Ooooooh… I was so scared…! *sniffle* Oooooooh… So… So scared…! *sniffle*

[ MOOD MATRIX #2.1 ]

O – Shisho was standing with a knife in his hand…

O – Blood was dripping onto Shisho’s face, getting it all red...

O – I couldn’t move at all!

O – I was so scared… I passed out.

[ Wrong Answer ]

O – *s-sniffle* Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

O – Oooooh… Uwaaaaaaaaaah!

[ OBJECTION! ]

O – Yeah… Blood was dripping down onto Shisho’s face…

O – I-I remember now! Somebody was sitting up on top of Shisho!

O – O-Okay… So…Um…So…somebody was sitting up on top of Shisho, bleeding from their head… …and smooshing something into Shisho’s face!

[ MOOD MATRIX #2.2 ]

O – Shisho had blood on his face and a knife in his hand…

O – He was on the floor, and somebody was smooshing something into his face...

O – I couldn’t move at all! I was so scared… I passed out.

[ Wrong Answer ]

O – Um… no. Not at all, lady.

O – Oh, no! Now the lady is mad at me! Waaaaah!

[ OBJECTION! ]

O – Ooooh… Y-You’re scaaaring me…!

O – Well… Wh-When I woke up…the person who killed Shisho…was standing over me… …bleeding from their head…

O – Ooooh… I… I don’t know who it was….

O – *sniffle* Okay…

[ MOOD MATRIX #2.3 ]

O – Shisho had blood on his face and a knife in his hand…

O – He was on the floor, and somebody was smooshing dough into his face!

O – I couldn’t move at all!

O – I was so scared… I passed out.

O – and when I woke up…

O – …the person who killed Shisho was standing over me.

[ Wrong Answer ]

O – “Incon…” Huh? What does that mean?

O – Y-You mean, I did something bad?

O – I-I’m sorry, really! I’ll try to be a good boy from now on, honest! *sniffle*

[ OBJECTION! ]

O – That nice smell… I love the smell… of that perfume…

O – I-It’s the smell of…of… Ungh…

O – Ooooooh… It’s the smell of… [ faints ]

[ CREDITS DIALOGUE ]

U – That trial the other day really inspired me. I’ve even created a rakugo routine based on Shisho’s case.

P – It’s a mystery story that’ll keep flipping the audience’s thinking on it’s head! It’s called “The Scary Udon Noodle”! Hee hee!

K – Hmph, you’re giving away too much in the title!

U – Keeping the Toneido School going… …is our way of paying penance and repaying our debt to Shisho. And that includes rakugo training for that kid, Owen.

#ƸӜƷ Reverse Run ƸӜƷ #uendo toneido #:: Uendo Meta ::

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furederiko · 8 years ago

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It's the first post of MAY 2017! Yipeee... And it's about an '11 in 1' set, which is the highlight of Kyuranger episode 12!

- If you think Lucky was just having a bad day last week, well, it gets worse. The Rebellion needs to analyze Ikagen's weakness, so a replay of his battle with the Squid Assassin is necessary. Basically, everyone is shoving that defeat to his face! Poor guy. This is a great scene though, because it's a bit rare to see Super Sentai heroes trying to come up with a solution by figuring things out together from battle footage. In many cases in the past, things were mostly solved conveniently on the fly. - As if acknowledging his bad luck isn't enough, Lucky's luck continues to run out. Even Kyulette rejects him! I don't know about you, but seeing a guy who is usually cheerful and couldn't care less about the world gets all so gloomy, is... infectiously depressing and sad. This marks the first time in the season that a Red member is not officially part of the away team. Yes, Hammy, you've totally read our mind. In fact, none of the center positions (Commander Xiao being the other one) are, which is interesting. I wonder what would happen if they ever require a mecha fight? Anyway, Stinger is leading Garu, Hammy, Balance and Naga this time, with the sole mission: to test their theory about Ikagen. That's all. - I've suspected that Ikagen's invicibility is caused by a hidden powerful macguffin that he placed his crowd. Perhaps a Kyu Globe? Apparently, that's not the case, because there was never anything like it that granted him the skill of foresighting enemy's movements. Nope, turns out, MANY parts of his body act as some kind of sensor that would react to others. Think of it like... Spider-Man and his Spider-Sense. That's how he's able to predict attacks and does that cool "The Matrix" move. Definitely not psychic. What's fascinating about this reveal however, is the use of #16 Serpens Kyu Globe to check Ikagen's reactions. This is one of the easy reason why this season is nothing but fantastic. It's these little decisions that flip audience's mind, because they come unexpected in a smart way, but also not feel forced at the same time. I mean, who would've thought that out of 88 constellations, an unorthodox one like Serpens would come handy as solution to the current situation, right? I certainly didn't see it coming. Beside, Ophiucus Silver being assigned to use this particular Skill Kyu Globe, is also a nice touch. In case you're forgeting, in the mythology, Ophiucus IS a Serpent-Bearer/Tamer. XD. - Clearly, Ikagen is not an enemy that can be dealt with singlehandedly. Which by the way, was Xiao's mistake in the past, that caused the life of his boss Big Bear. He needs to be attacked from all 11 directions, so the Kyulette conveniently debuts the #SP Kyuranger Kyu Globe. This means, similar to when they dealt with Eridrone, everyone must participate the fight. That is, everyone except Lucky, who surprisingly refuses to join them. He argues that he's not fit to be a Kyuranger anymore, thinking he only became one because of luck. Aaaaw... someone is getting the wrong idea here! People might have complained about him being loud and rambunctious, but for me, this gloomy sulking (and dumb) version is much more annoying. This forces Xiao to have a nice SERIOUS pep-talk about Lucky's true strength of positivite thinking. Heck, even Garu is compelled to knock some senses out of the guy, calling him out to take responsibility for getting him onboard in the first place. NICE one guys, he deserves a wake-up slap IMO. But does everyone else need to watch this drama from the monitor? *sigh* - Thankfully though, we are able to get an extended glimpse of Lucky's not-so-lucky and instead painful past because of this. Which sounds a bit like the backstory of Superman, by the way! Not to mention, Lucky might NOT be his real name, because that's just the way he wants to see himself while growing up in Planet Luth. This is... intriguing, and I'm certain this is going to play out into something bigger in the future. Who knows, perhaps the show is going to have a 'Darth Vader'-esque reveal, considering all these time Lucky serves as some sort of mirror to Luke Skywalker? I initially thought they are going to pull this twist with Stinger's brother, but the ending of this episode already debunks that theory. You'll see why... - Anyways, all Kyurangers minus Leo Red joins forces to take on Ikagen. As Ikagen later remarks, 10 against 1 DOES feel a bit unfair. But on the other hand, it signifies that Ikagen is definitely a powerful enemy. See? He's not even budging, because he has more than just 10 'eyes'. Cue Lucky, who slowly gains back his confidence thanks to his friends' trust, to show up and save the day. In an unexpected CLEVER way too! By using the Gemini Kyu Globe to create numerous clones of himself! An act that easily overwhelms Ikagen and catches him off guard. Sure, this scene must be annoying to some audience. I mean, one is loud enough for them, and now there's an army of him (I count there's at least 128 of them. Yikes!!!). But the most important thing is, it WORKS. Brilliant move! Now that Ikagen is blind, he can be taken down far easily. - And so we have our first 11 Kyurangers transformation scene! Aaaaw, what a sight. What a glorious scene. Those colors simply look amazing, albeit the extended length of the roll call. LOL. And the action sequence that follows is well thought-out too. We have one team (Draco Commander, Libra Gold, Aquila Pink, and Ophiucus Silver... who feels a little out of place because he's using a Sickle LOL) using long-ranged attack, the second (Lupus Blue, Taurus Black, Chamaleon Green, Dorado Yellow) strikes with melee hits, the third unit (Ursa Minor Skyblue, and big bro Scorpius Orange) proceeds with their signature whip-like weapons, and finally, Leo Red tops it off by bringing Ikagen to the epicentrum. "Kyuranger All Star Crash!", wicked group finisher! Of course, the fact that it requires all members to deal with each Menaster, leads us to two possible concerning truth: Either this year's villains are galactic-level super powered beings, or... the Kyurangers have the weakest solo members in Super Sentai history! LOL. - It might be the first option though, because as soon as Ikagen grows giant, the Kyurangers are once again outdone. To think that our heroes are already using both Kyuren-Oh and Ryutei-Oh, with the three remaining Voyagers (Libra, Ophiucus, and Aquila) serving as support! Ikagen's dark acid rain even renders them down. Then again, thanks to last week's preview, we already know the solution. Yes, by combining the two mechas in "Super Say the Docking", to debut the 8-Voyagers combination RYUTEI KYUREN-OH. Don't be fooled by its mighty appearance though, because I don't think it's that impressive. Especially if you compare it to past intricate combinations like Engine-Oh G9 or even Wild Tousai King). Ryutei-Oh practically only docks on Kyuren-Oh's back to form some kind of blaster unit, and don't forget there are other Voyagers being left out. This one is NOT exactly a full-team combination. The much bigger and complete one is undoubtedly being saved for the show's later half, anyway... LOL. - "All Star Scramble Break! Super Galaxy!". Ikagen is no more. And Puppis Kyu Globe has been retrieved. Now the team only needs to locate two more. Lucky is back to his usual cheerful self as well, and I gotta admit, it does make me smile. But no time to rest, because Madako is still at large. And she's heralding the arrival of the next major antagonist to Earth: Scorpio. Yes, despite the new scary look, it's the one and only. He even mentions Stinger's name specifically... Ouch! I absolutely didn't expect to see him showing up this early in the game. Looks like a bro-brawl between the Scorpius System Menaster and his lil bro is coming much sooner that I thought... - Speaking of lil bro, Kotarou is FINALLY taking the spotlight in the ending dance (with Hammy this time)!!!!! YAAAY! All scenes, as well as that circular shot, now consists of 11 Kyurangers now! Looks hectic, but awesome because nobody's left out. LOL. Hold on... that's NOT the only change happening in this new version. They've also altered the choreography a bit! Now that's interesting, because it was still the same until last week. Seriously, go ahead and check. Does this update take place due to the complain that the first version was considered inappropriate? Or because it's just meant to be that way? Hmmm... Oh well, at least it's a good change, even if a bit awkward.

Overall: Thanks to episode 11 doing the heavylifting, things got off easier this week. If anything, what made this episode better, is that it felt focused. The team nailed their mission to eliminate Ikagen, and Lucky gained some boost of confidence about himself through Xiao and Garu. It's good-ol teamwork! I admit, these part DID feel predictable, but the writers still managed to somehow surprise us through the minor details. So eventhough not the best, it was certainly one of the better episodes so far. I'm still holding out on the concern that the plot might be moving too fast, but let's just wait and observe how it develops. Perhaps there are indeed much bigger plans in store. Oh, and one more thing. Some might say that having 11 Kyurangers felt a little overwhelming, and they did make a good point. But I disagree. As long as it served a purpose, I certainly don't mind such large cast. In fact, we're getting diversity of race (these guys originated from various kinds of planets after all), gender (remember, the mechanical beings should be considered genderless), and also age (from the youngest in Kotarou to the eldest in Xiao). That's always a wonderful thing for me. Beside, the color combination alone is too glorious to dismiss. Am I right? LOL... Next week: Zombie Attack? Hammy takes center stage, while Stinger and Champ deals with their past.

Episode 12 Score: 8,1 out of 10

Visit THIS LINK to view a continuously updated listing of the Kyutama / Kyu Globes. Last Updated: May 1st, 2017 - Version 18. (WARNING: It might contain spoilers for future episodes)

All images are screencaptured from the series, provided by the FanSubber Over-Time. "Uchu Sentai Kyuranger" is produced by TOEI, and airs every Sunday on TV-Asahi. Credits and copyrights belong to their respective owners.

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the-rivers-sad-gift · 5 years ago

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Lilly Wachowski coming out in a statement to press of her choice after having her and her sister’s entire livelihoods threatened by the media.

This is her statement, I’ll provide a link to the article.

“

‘SEX CHANGE SHOCKER—WACHOWSKI BROTHERS NOW SISTERS!!!’

There's the headline I've been waiting for this past year. Up until now with dread and/or eye rolling exasperation. The "news" has almost come out a couple of times. Each was preceded by an ominous email from my agent—reporters have been asking for statements regarding the "Andy Wachowski gender transition" story they were about to publish. In response to this threatened public outing against my will, I had a prepared a statement that was one part piss, one part vinegar and 12 parts gasoline.

It had a lot of politically relevant insights regarding the dangers of outing trans people, and the statistical horrors of transgender suicide and murder rates. Not to mention a slightly sarcastic wrap-up that "revealed" my father had injected praying mantis blood into his paternal ball-sac before conceiving each of his children to produce a brood of super women, hellbent on female domination. Okay, mega sarcastic.

But it didn't happen. The editors of these publications didn't print a story that was only salacious in substance and could possibly have a potentially fatal effect. And being the optimist that I am, I was happy to chalk it up to progress.

Then last night while getting ready to go out for dinner my doorbell rang. Standing on my front porch was a man I did not recognize.

"This might be a little awkward," he said in an English accent.

I remember sighing.

Sometimes it's really tough work to be an optimist.

He proceeded to explain he was a journalist from the Daily Mail, which was the largest news service in the UK and was most definitely not a tabloid. And that I really had to sit down with him tomorrow or the next day or next week so that I could have my picture taken and tell my story which was so inspirational! And that I really didn't want to have someone from the National Enquirer following me around, did I? BTW—The Daily Mail is so definitely not a tabloid.

My sister Lana and I have largely avoided the press. I find talking about my art frustratingly tedious and talking about myself a wholly mortifying experience. I knew at some point I would have to come out publicly. You know, when you're living as an out transgender person it's … kind of difficult to hide. I just wanted—needed some time to get my head right, to feel comfortable.

But apparently I don't get to decide this.

After he had given me his card, and I closed the door it began to dawn on me where I had heard of the Daily Mail. It was the "news" organization that had played a huge part in the national public outing of Lucy Meadows, an elementary school teacher and trans woman in the UK. An editorial in the "not-a-tabloid" demonized her as a damaging influence on the children's delicate innocence and summarized "he's not only trapped in the wrong body, he's in the wrong job." The reason I knew about her wasn't because she was transgender it was because three months after the Daily Mail article came out, Lucy committed suicide.

And now here they were, at my front door, almost as if to say—

"There's another one! Let's drag 'em out in the open so we can all have a look!"

Being transgender is not easy. We live in a majority-enforced gender binary world. This means when you're transgender you have to face the hard reality of living the rest of your life in a world that is openly hostile to you.

I am one of the lucky ones. Having the support of my family and the means to afford doctors and therapists has given me the chance to actually survive this process. Transgender people without support, means and privilege do not have this luxury. And many do not survive. In 2015, the transgender murder rate hit an all-time high in this country. A horrifying disproportionate number of the victims were trans women of color. These are only the recorded homicides so, since trans people do not all fit in the tidy gender binary statistics of murder rates, it means the actual numbers are higher.

And though we have come a long way since Silence of the Lambs, we continue to be demonized and vilified in the media where attack ads portray us as potential predators to keep us from even using the goddamn bathroom. The so-called bathroom bills that are popping up all over this country do not keep children safe, they force trans people into using bathrooms where they can be beaten and or murdered. We are not predators, we are prey.

So yeah, I'm transgender.

And yeah, I've transitioned.

I'm out to my friends and family. Most people at work know too. Everyone is cool with it. Yes, thanks to my fabulous sister they've done it before, but also because they're fantastic people. Without the love and support of my wife and friends and family I would not be where I am today.

But these words, "transgender" and "transitioned" are hard for me because they both have lost their complexity in their assimilation into the mainstream. There is a lack of nuance of time and space. To be transgender is something largely understood as existing within the dogmatic terminus of male or female. And to "transition" imparts a sense of immediacy, a before and after from one terminus to another. But the reality, my reality is that I've been transitioning and will continue to transition all of my life, through the infinite that exists between male and female as it does in the infinite between the binary of zero and one. We need to elevate the dialogue beyond the simplicity of binary. Binary is a false idol.

Now, gender theory and queer theory hurt my tiny brain. The combinations of words, like freeform jazz, clang disjointed and discordant in my ears. I long for understanding of queer and gender theory but it's a struggle as is the struggle for understanding of my own identity. I have a quote in my office though by Jose Muñoz given to me by a good friend. I stare at it in contemplation sometimes trying to decipher its meaning but the last sentence resonates:

‘Queerness is essentially about the rejection of a here and now and an insistence on potentiality for another world.’

So I will continue to be an optimist adding my shoulder to the Sisyphean struggle of progress and in my very being, be an example of the potentiality of another world.”

Lilly Wachowski

http://www.windycitymediagroup.com/m/APPredirect.php?AID=54509

In case you didn’t know, the Wachowski siblings are the extremely artistic writers and directors behind such films as The Matrix, V for Vendetta, and Cloud Atlas. Once rumors of their true gender identity were clawed out by the vulture media they were slowly but surely forced out of their own lives. The last time mass media, and certainly America, had either of the sisters in mind was when the press was dragging both of them through the mud. Making jokes for the whole world to laugh at, at the expense Lilly and Lana Wachowski.

With all the LGBTQ alphabet soup positivity that’s supposedly shoved down our throats now, all the ‘movements’ that make people think anything is going to be different, it’s pretty fucking sad how little has changed in all of history for trans women.

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itsfullofair · 6 years ago

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Hello, I am an astral traveler

meaning I know how to project my soul from my skin and greet someone in their head. This is what Jesus did and that’s how the idea of talk to Jesus and god at the same time originated. I have schizophrenia, PTSD, anxiety, depression, disassociation, memory problems, a severe social anxiety problem, rejection sensitive dysphoria, and erotomania. This wombo combo as a pacifist drove me completely insane and I’ve had a lot of mental breakdowns and suicide attempts I’ve been homeless for 2 weeks in my car 6 psych ward stays, but now I’m back and stable enough that I can describe my mental state and explain exactly what why and how shooters are planning thinking and executing these “random” mass killings are thinking. These are minds I flow through as a telepathic schizophrenic with mental problems and I hear their prayers for freedom from their emotional problems and we need to save these people before they snap and kill others and themselves because of what happened to them. I know this story well. As an animal a human will look out in their mind to the collective human unconscious/conscious and say what now? What do I do? That’s instinct. Think avatar and the tree uniting everyone, that’s mother nature you don’t need to use your head thing to connect. If you are a baby born day one to a family who raped you at home instead of letting you take a nap DAY ONE your instinct is like well, you need these people to survive so let’s forget this happened, and trauma alone will do that without the abuser being your parents. So this moment in time this real event that can be found felt and re-lived in space time, this piece of your SOUL through time is held captive by an abuser, you just don’t access this part of you HUMAN SOUL and you need 100% of that to function on this planet. The mind builds and actual physical wall, thoughts are brainwaves which are real waves that float around the air and space and nature, it’s called thought broadcasting if you tell a doctor you can think with other people, not like hello wake up neo in the matrix which it is and is the truth. Souls are transferred during sex, people call this usually a twin flame if you discover telepathy or share dreams with a lover. If you’re in this situation day one your parents, usually, will keep up appearances with everyone, befriend everyone to make sure that they are well liked and well loved usually throwing big parties and things. A pedophile will raise a kid with love support and money because they look at that kid like their sexual partner. It’s not always just the scary dirty abusive household everyone pictures. These kids will be gaslight, raped at night when they’re already asleep with chloroform over their mouths, legal to own in the usa, so they don’t remember in the morning. They will be depressed and not know why, they will hate their parents and everyone around them in the morning while they suffer and die inside because in their dreams they know they are being raped and when they wake up they forget them and they’re in a “home” with people “who love and care and support them”. Pedophiles will network to stay together and share porn and children so actually you could wake up every day to an extended family and friend network who “love and support you and understand your depression and are here for you” and you’ll just feel deep down in your gut, your all fucking fake plastic sick fucks and I hate every single person on this god forsaken planet, and usually these people have a lot of trouble finding god because their parents should naturally subconsciously guide them to the powers that be but these poor people have voices telling them to kill themselves. The abusers will be subconsciously thinking if you ever remember this night you’re better off dead because pedophilia is a death sentence in prison. And a shitload of elementary school kids are raped by janitors and repress that, I know that is a fact. So you’ll like wake up every morning cold and in pain and wishing for death because they shove that “you should be dead” idea down your throat while the rest of the worlds like hello good morning solar planetary bodies like the sun and moon controlling the ocean waves and water in my blood and seasons that flow through us all, I can paint with the colors of the wind hold a job make friends and fuck stacy, I’m chad good morning! And you’ll wake up with that child psyche that was abused, usually myself the emotions caused me physical pain for years, it was super uncomfortable I would cry because I couldn’t escape my skin or the pain and cutting was something me and a lot of abuse victim idolized because the pain was different and it wasn’t as bad and it distracts the brain from the emotional turmoil I could never escape. Personally I was so damaged I started to build emotional walls to just all the emotions I couldn’t handle and I became cold and detached to human emotion as I got older. In school which is your whole life when you’re antisocial that’s it like that’s all you have is the hours in the building, you’ll instead have trouble talking to people, because as you walk around outside your body the pieces of your soul where you escaped your skin in an assault and built a wall as a child with a child psyche these are carried with you and you’re on the other side of the wall. No matter what other people are going to see these moments in time and bring them to you so you can heal, this is what people mean when they say god loves everyone. Love is the energy that unites us all and brings us all together, and everyone will show these people it’s not so bad this is why youre sad when they travel to you in their dreams and when they walk around. Your dreams are when your spirit guides you during the day that’s why knowing how to find your higher self is crucial and remembering your dreams is a skill that needs to be practiced because dreams are the days you live. As you walk around a school though the ideas will be pressured onto them physically for being in school and surrounded by souls. I remember thinking passing period felt like an ocean and it was my favorite part of school and I also just hated every aspect of school because no matter what I did I couldn’t ever find the problem within myself that was causing me to be so emotionally unwell I couldn’t function at all in a social setting and I never knew why so I just kept smoking weed and usually draw to myself and just process how I felt somehow. like drawing to me is an emotional outlet and without it I don’t feel human people need to be taught to do that and the arts programs in most schools are the first to get budget cuts. In school sitting in the rooms walking around, its suffocating, it feels and looks like everyone’s perfect and emotionally well in your eyes every conversation near you you’re jealous of you feel like all your friends are fake and you should kys. For me it felt like no matter what I did I was the focus of every single person like everyone knew who I was because I colored my hair or looked different or something, no one really knew me but walking around was still really fucking stressful like just existing near people was draining, a lot of people online say this is an alright part of introversion and this is healthy but its really a calling to find something and most people respond with Netflix or video game additions. I tried to figure out what was wrong with me and I always landed on I’m an asshole and I cant handle a friendship because I’m too scared and depressed I like need too much? Other people land on its everyone else’s fault and no one gets or knows me, like I did too but I got suicidal and not dangerous. It always looks like everyone else has the perfect life and yours means nothing. Nothings real like nothing good in life for you anyway because your brain cannot accept any complete form of calm balanced love if you’re repressing rapes! Because you’re on the wrong side of the wall you need to know the truth! And there are lives dependent on it staying up and keeping you from using your whole soul and usually these kids are like needing the approval of everyone like their peers and idols and PARENTS which it stemmed from 10x more than a healthy person but they’ll never fully have because of the super unnatural abuse those people brought down on a human soul. This is a plague that haunts people every thought emotion and action and it ruins lives and souls so deeply, while these parents will say I provided for and loved and supported you the whole way I don’t understand why you’re failing school antisocial doing drugs plotting shootings or have a peaceful addiction to shooting people on your computer! Have you ever googled james holmes? So the solution for these mental problems is to take pills, and no one get tests done on their brain chemicals to see if they need these pills they’re usually just like doc I feel like something and the doctors like alright begin the brain reconstruction instead of like, hey let’s look into your psyche? So during the holocaust schizophrenia was something the Nazis tried to eradicate and they would run human experiments on people who were stuck in psych wards their whole lives and couldn’t leave, and then they just killed them all. And after that war ended all these pills hit the market that reconstruct the brain or my favorite, the cure for schizophrenia a disorder that the majority of the world historically views as a shamanistic disorder that is a person whose job it is to interoperate the other side and the spirits LIKE MYSELF A PARANOID SCHIZOPHRENIC we are given anti psychotics which stop the brain from making and absorbing dopamine and can kill you through neuroleptic malignant syndrome and cause what I now permanently have tartidive deskenia which is like Tourette’s. Dopamine regulates just about everything in the brain its used everywhere, schizoprehnics naturally usually have higher levels of it and this causes hallucination but there methods that can be taught to live with this instead of just nuking the brain like that, think like the injection in rick and morty that rick got in space that made him stupid antipsychotics are like that and they honestly make rage build because they’re not a cure. Police can and like to send people to the psych ward because they can and can’t send you to jail and when you get there basically every person there unless they’re there for a suicide attempt and it was their first, everyone gets some form of a schizophrenia or bi polar diagnosis. Also schizoaffective which is the combo I’ve gotten that one. I asked once why like what’s with the blanket diagnosis on everyone and a nurse told me these diagnosis are after the brief evaluation to make sure your insurance company accepts the visit and they can take you in and it can be changed later after more visits with the psych but it never does. And once you’re in there your there on a 3 day hold, this is the process in the USA is varies a little depending on where you are. When this 72 hour hold is up you are free to go or they ask you to sign yourself in voluntarily and if you don’t do that they can sign you in involuntarily. This hold can last up to 90 days legally, the longest ones I had were a month usually for refusing meds. You legally are allowed to refuse meds in the ward but if you refuse for enough days even if you prove you’re stable and recovering in this place where they see that 24/7 they will eventually get upset and your assigned psychiatrist will start the process of taking you to court to get a court ordered certification to get usually injections of antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, antidepressants, all these meds that hit the market out of thin air basically in the 50’s that are apparently the magic cures for everything. Many were tested on psych ward patients illegally before being released on the public. These are all proven to cause seizures, brain damage, muscle spasms, coma, and death. You’ll be in court as a psych ward patient in street clothes or blue paper disposable scrubs with an appointed attorney against a licensed practicing physician and you’re really not walking out of court without a certificate stating that you need to go to a nurse appointment and take these shots once a month or so for like 5 months or something. These pills all really destroy my third eye and connections to god. And the doctors you see after you leave the psych wards, they give the certificate to these doctors they assign to you if you didn’t already have any and these people can decide to extend the cert if they feel that you’re not cured. I had a heart condition from shot number one of invega sustenna in a ward I had a resting rate of 120bpm and I was sweaty scared and upset all day with SHALLOW BREATH! That shallow breath was so bad for me in 2018 I thought I was going to die and it was hard for me to let go and fall asleep I would rather stay up all night but I was tired from pacing all day in the hallways, I was on pills instead of a shot but it was a lot. My doctor immediately wanted to put me on the shot for refusing pills at first so I got an attorney involved and he stopped and just upped my dosage colossally even though I puked more than once. When an invega sustenna shot gave me the high resting rate resulting in them giving me an ekg they found that I had an irregular heart rhythm and THAT RESTING RATE, THE RYTHEM, MY SWEATING AND MENTAL STATE, MY PHYSICAL DISCOMFORT these were not valid reasons to discontinue this branch of injection stemming from the 50’s, no, they had more pills for all these problems and I was a fool for not wanting MORE PILLS TO TAKE!!! So you ever read those stories about the kids that “got help” for their mental problems? Well the psych ward is DESIGNED in a very specific way in the united states. You get in, given like 1 – 4 rx depending on your evaluation and they go up in dosage a lot while you’re there. You get 3 square meals a day while you’re in this controlled environment where they check your vitals every day and can and do monitor your mood and when you sleep and what you eat and how social you are and what youre up to. Like the ward is on a tight schedule to get you used to being on a regular schedule and its like eat group therapy physical therapy eat group therapy physical therapy eat sleep. But the groups are optional so a lot of people just sleep cause these pills make you feel wasted and stupid and drunk without any of the fun. This is how they can test new medications on you, the doctors push new meds and are known to be incentivized to prescribe new ones, no one leaves without at least one rx they’re expected to fill and legally required to if the leave on a cert. This is also a system where if that pill they prescribed kills you the doctor is never going to know about it and your doctor you see outside the hospital would probably write down that anything you become ill with or suffer from because of the pill can be solved with more pills because that is the only solution my doctor ever has and she gives out all sorts of pills to me! So I just never talk about my problems and how weed helped me through the hardest journey I have ever been on! I threw up a lot in my last ward stay and my psychiatrist responded by giving me a pill to stop the puking and UPPED THE DOSAGE OF ANTIPSYCHOTICS THAT MADE PUKE. You don’t get one on one therapy in the ward, that happens when you leave. You see a social worker for like 3 minutes maybe once a week who asks like, are you bathing? Eating? Sleeping? Excited to get out and use the internet again you lil bugger oh you and they pinch your cheeks and you’re like yea so I attempted suicide and no ones asked anything about what brought me here past that line they just ask like, are you suicidal today? And if you mark yes on your daily check in morning sheet and evening sheets they read, well, then they extend your stay until you start marking down your mood at 10/10 instead of like 4. I’m serious. That’s it. They don’t like ask about it they just keep you longer and they don’t say anything about it unless you’re like WHY AM I STILL HERE and they’ll say well were worried about you so were keeping you in the ward with no internet or therapy past groups. If you’re in the ICU group therapy is like, here’s the food pyramid and in the less intense wards it’s like here’s something motivational or ways to cope with depression. They do teach real life skills and there is help in a psych ward like there is help but YOURE NOT GOING TO BE IN ANY SORT OF MENTAL SHAPE TO ACCEPT IT because no one will talk to you about your problems other than other patients and everyone would rather play like uno or do a coloring page. I make collages with magazines usually. I’ve always been just bitter pissed off uncomfortable and mad about being in the ward, and anyone who says THEY NEED HELP WITH VOICES TELLING THEM TO KILL OR SHOOT OR DO ANY FORM OF HARM well you’re NOT getting out of the ward without a certificate for the shots, because the doctor will think your command voices will tell you to stop taking the meds like MINE DID AND TOLD ME TO GOOGLE WHAT THEY WERE PUTTING IN MY BODY cause all they do is give you this print out in the ward when they give you a shot FROM THE COMPANY THAT MAKES THE INJECTIONS! They’re like here this what you have no choice but to accept into your brain, YOUR BRAIN AND BLOOD!!!!! ALSO BTW ELECTROSHOCK THERAPY IS STILL ALIVE AND WELL IN THE USA AND OPTIONAL IN THE WARD USUALLY, USUALLY. I haven’t been through that but some people said it cleared their mind, I believe more in EDMR light therapy for suppressed memories. If you tell a therapist you’re still having THOUGHTS OF HARMING YOURSELF OR OTHERS when you finally get out THEY WILL SEND YOU BACK IN LIKE, YOU DON’T GO BACK TO YOUR CAR IN THE LOT YOU’RE ESCORTED OUT INTO EITHER A CAB OR STRAPPED DOWN AND PUT IN AN AMBULANCE DEPENDING ON YOUR INSURANCE cause an ambulance ride is like 1k or something?? It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever been a part of being placed in a fucking emergency vehicle for a 15 minute fucking car trip to a ward and then taking a cab back to the same lot with a voucher they gave me to go get my car. Weeks later. No help given for that mental problem in the ward, ive attempted suicide twice now and I want to kill myself every day but if I tell my doctor therapist or anyone in my support network they will send me to the pill chambers. THAT’S WHAT HAPPENING TO PEOPLE LIKE JAMES HOLMES WHO STARTED THAT PROCESS AS A CHILD AND IS NOW IN PRISON FOREVER TAKING SHOTS FOREVER NO THERAPY AND HONESTLY LIKE A GUARD CAN RAPE HIM AND NO ONE WILL EVER SAY A WORD. In his trial they asked things like, did you feel anything later or basically were you feeling like everyone else, the average the general public? And he’s like yea I feel terrible but I wasn’t with it when it was happening? I don’t remember word for word but he responded like yea I have fucking schizophrenia basically, HISTORICALLY KNOWN FOR HAVING INAPROPRIATE EMOTIONS AND EMOTIONAL DISTURBANCES. NOTORIOUS FOR THAT. They like researched every problem a schizophrenic has and used it against him to make him look like this sick monster when he grew up with suicide attempts and then WENT TO COLLEGE TO STUDY THE BRAIN AND PASSED WITH FLYING COLORS, but had a pill addiction fucking with his brain AND A SEVERE SPIRITUAL DISEASE! SCHIZOPHRENIA! So the spirit realm contacted this man on western pills and it said DEATH and he heard TO THEM instead of MYSELF like I heard because I didn’t grow up on pills, I smoked weed from 14-15 and continue to today into my mid-twenties for all my problems basically and look at what I know now about them! And people say WEED CAUSES SCHZIOPHRENIA IN KIDS WHO START SMOKING YOUNG AND YEA IT DOES SPARK THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL IN PEOPLE WHOS BRAINS ARE FINISHING THEIR DEVELOPMENT AND REACHING MATURITY AROUND AGE 25. By that point where your third eye is FULLY FUNCTIONING AND YOU SHOULD HAVE A HEALTHY CONNECTION TO NATURE LIKE, NATURALLY, you’re legally allowed to do a shitload in the USA to your body especially by that age. And by then you have consumed 25 years of fluoride and chemicals in the water you drank and its in the food we grow, like idiocracy? Its brawndo its got fluoride what plants crave!! It’s listed as a poison on your toothpastes and your instructed specifically to never consume it but apparently it’s A OKAY as a supplement consumed in everything else? They’re trying to start mandatory fluoride rinses for youth in schools in japan, follow the patterns of whose putting fluoride in the water and where it is a spiritual attack not a health benefit. Fluoride was used on prisoners in concentration camps to keep them numb and dull and passive. I listen to spirits when I eat and they whisper to me about all the poisons in my food and my doctor and a google search will tell me that THIS IS A COMMON SCHIZOPHRENIC DELUSION AND I AM WRONG, THE FDA IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY ACTUALLY. Another common one is thinking about MKULTRA the illegal mind control program involving acid and unwilling participants in the USA, its “gone and closed” not but a band called themselves MKULTRA in the 90s and got too political and had to change their name for “legal reasons”. If you talk about telepathy or mind control you should be on pills in the eyes of most people and these are ideas you encounter as a schizophrenic just daily just like that is a path of god for a schizophrenic and many other people seeking enlightenment these days. Like I love seeing other schizophrenic people because they’re usually introverted but deep emotional expressive artists on the internet because they have a place to express themselves where they can connect with other people. The problem is not everyone knows how to FIND THEMSELVES AND THEIR SOULS THROUGH A CREATIVE OUTLET some people just get pushed down by their mental illness and get nothing done but stew in emotions they don’t understand and get mad and hurt and sad and PLAN SOMETHING DARK because they have nothing else to think about but I AM NOT WRONG AND THE WORLD WRONGED ME and the focus on the girl in class who won’t ever think about them and they are STUCK in the thought that THAT GIRLS LOVE WITH SOLVE EVERYTHING. As someone with EROTOMANIA let me tell you I KNOW what that is like. It’s like you wake up and blink and breathe and pray down to this perfection on earth the holiest thing, PURE SUNSHINE captured in human form and you’re ADDICTED TO THEM!!! And they could probably solve basically every emotional problem you’ve ever had because they have friends and they’re well liked and you just desire the human connection with a lover so badly every day you fall apart. And it’s because you can’t even like dream right if your parents are super supportive pedophiles. You can’t even begin to start the emotional journey that is solving that and healing your soul without knowing your spirit guide and in the USA there is a separation of church and state so its up to the families to play god, ah sorry I mean teach. So parents or cult leaders can teach telepathy and mind reading or just tell people that they are a prophet from god and that’s legal in the USA. Parents can just learn telepathy and play with their kid’s souls and jack off to their fantasies and tell them to kill themselves and then smile to their faces until the kid snaps and shoots up their high school. Now, I am a girl. As like basically a peaceful incel I got it way easier than most people because I was pretty enough and people thought I was cool. My ENTIRE LIFE I have always had the thought like, boys are a lot cooler though and I am into what most men are like stick shift cars, video games, beer, weed, shitposting, reddit and art is gender neutral now mostly and I went to university for a computer science degree. But I am a girl and I have like every excuse to like my little pony or steven universe at basically any age in this internet era and I am glad I do and could like them even in my mental state. The my little pony reboot has an arc about a cult that told everyone that being the same and not expressing yourself, there’s arcs about how everyone has a unique purpose in life and that’s what gets them their cutie marks, they have to go through an emotional journey to find out who they are. There are children in the show who form a club to go on adventures to find out who they are and get their cutie marks because they’re the last 3 kids in school without marks yet and they’re lost and upset, they ask the main cast how they got theirs once. These were season 1 episode 23 and the equality episodes were season 5 episodes 1 and 2. Steven universe had an episode where steven woke up in someone else’s body after a dream and tried to help him change and improve his life, this is season 3 episode 10 and it teaches astral projection to the youth. An episode of steven universe recently had a gay wedding too, a concept in the show is that if you love and trust someone you can merge into one person, they call this fusion. The line is blurred between weather fusion always means SEX BETWEEN TWO PEOPLE or IT IS A DEEP SHARED EMOTIONAL BOND BETWEEN SOULS. There are episodes where characters are dealing with the pressures emotionally of fusing or once a character lied about why they needed to be fused because they were becoming addicted to being one piece with them. These ideas can help stop erotomania, which btw lead to an attempted presidential assassination NO ONE REALLY TALKS THAT MUCH ABOUT ANYMORE. These are ideas that need to spread because we need to treat people as how they view themselves because the soul evolves outside of the body and the more time we spend saying all we are is flesh the less time we spend in the astral plane evolving where you can connect spiritually to planetary bodies and leave the planet and travel space astrally. It is of the highest importance to take care of your physical form at the same time though, this is your entire connection to the other side and it needs to be in good shape working properly. As a whole unit if everyone stays fit and motivates everyone they know to do the same instead of video game addictions, drinking, smoking+vaping we will all advance faster. We will think clearer our collective IQ will raise and we will have better ideas and inventions because we will channel better life sustaining energies not man made lies to nature.There is a reason why people followed the planets as gods and said that people were planetary gods talking and walking around and its because people can channel these energies AND TO SAVE THE FATE OF THE PLANET AND THE HUMAN RACE EVERY SINGLE PERSON ON THIS PLANET NEEDS TO KNOW HOW TO DO THAT AND FIND THEIR DIVINE PURPOSE HERE. Every person is born with a fate and a path that needs to be followed and as an energy force the human race just eats itself and rapes itself and destroys god and dreams we just tear the planet to shreds and say fuck it to the next guy because we only live about a 100 years so were like well im not going to be sad about it im just going to keep making left turns and hoping someday left will mean right. So people are born into this world with fates they cannot seek or achieve properly because of the publics ideas and the ways we react to and treat mentally ill people. Mental illness is still used to this day to completely discredit individuals, if you have schizophrenia literally anything you say can be seen as you hallucinating or something didn’t happen like it really is a death sentence in a few ways still. If I tell anyone on the internet right now I am schizophrenic the only people who have sympathy are the r/schizophrenic redditers or 90’s kids that are talking about their mental problems in shitposts. I am an EXPERIENCED SHITPOSTER. I’ll make a blog of a bunch of memes that are now illegal in Europe because they’re spreading information that got way too real way too fast to too many people. Everyone started making jokes about god and the illuminati and the holocaust, mind control, evolution, and the matrix and now memes are illegal in Europe because trump tweeted a pepe meme or something? No one knows? I don’t buy it the FCC is shutting down the internet here. Were learning too much as sheeple and they are grabbing at our dreams to control us. Mass media trends turned into “geek culture” and this turned into things like the big bang theory which is often called a joke because the whole concept is like the pretty blonde girl SHE DID IT!! She talked to the nerds for more than 5 minutes!! And trends in geek culture made like all of what a lot of quiet people had left to feel special and different like kinda vanish in their eyes to everyone else. Everything is for everyone because of the internet age and I’ve defiantly fallen into the void where you watch your generation grow up on the internet or look out and its like these people are only a few years apart from you and their wildly successful while you’ve struggled to like, type on the internet. Talking on the internet was a huge wall for me for years, like all the years basically. I eventually could talk on reddit and in game in tf2 by college but I was still really quiet on reddit and not that like, calm? Posting a comment on the internet was like starting a panic attack that someone someday might like read it you know? So I just wouldn’t ever or I’d delete em. These incels are now looking out to the world and basically anything out there there is to like is a trend and a buzzword and everyones the same plastic fake social media profile full of life events they cant have. Like the rise in shootings came with the rise in social media and how we interact and view each other as a society. Everyone gained the ability to like not read a mind just yet but see into someone’s life that we didn’t used to have. so suddenly were all comparing like never before and it’s harder and harder to look normal as a shy introverted person who has trouble socially. Do you use a facebook with 30- 100 friends on it in a school of 1k per class? Do you just add everyone to like start a conversation like social media feels like it should be a tool to get to know people with and it can be but of a lot of introverted people it’s just another thing that everyone looks at and thinks you’re a freak about even though most people don’t usually think about the quiet introverted kids. It feels like everything everyone ever does around you is part of a power play and a social game and everyone’s always a step ahead and above you, and some schizophrenics live in a state of constant fear over the shadow people, flickers, voices, sounds, you get scared of basically the air and the world around you and everything gets really cold and you get a lot more alone then you ever really should be. Your mind builds this bubble of all the hours you were awake and thought you knew what the world is and it’s hard to break out of it and see what trauma or problem you have that is causing a wall that you need to hide from what’s happening to you. And with schizophrenia you gradually lose grey matter over time and have less than most people to begin with so your memory is bad while you’re shaken and scared and messed up all the time. This is what leads to fascinations with violence and guns because these bring out fear in people and that is an immediate physical response that you can feel in your body, everyone knows what it’s like to be aware of the presence of a gun in front of you. People get obsessed with guns because they like having the power over all the people that scared them and honestly they probably LIKE THE FEELING OF HAVING POWER IN THEIR OWN HOMES. So far this is mostly men who are snapping and falling in this direction usually because a violent video game obsession is a cool and common thing to bond over especially if you’re quiet and a lot of people DO IN FACT PLAY VIOLENT VIDEO GAMES TO GET OUT THE URGES TO KILL PEOPLE THAT THEY CANNOT TALK TO A THERAPIST ABOUT. Like that seems like a no brainer?? Of course they would! I played fps with my now ex and when he was mad at me he would intentionally snipe me or go extra hard on killing me and he did it with intent, he’s not a violent person but in his downtime as now a legal sport he liked to snipe his girlfriend. Like it really is a full day thing and it’s just endless thoughts about murder FOR FUN! I never really liked getting into violent games and I only ever really got into tf2 because the characters all have really cool backgrounds and valve stays really close to the game with updates and new stories and videos and I started off playing prop hunt which isn’t 2 teams fighting its hide and seek one team is pieces of the map and the other hunts them down and lights them on fire because the prop will burn for a few seconds so everyone just kinda walks around with flamethrowers and lightly burns everything till someone catches on fire and starts to run away to find water or a new place to hide before they run out of health, I played that for years. Those years on my graphics card are physical and they are powered and lightly re-lived everytime I boot and use this computer and graphics card, they are years I spent contributing to the idea that if youre sad depressed and tired and you cant do anything right you should play video games and touch plastic keyboards all day which slowly seeps into the skin and causes cancer over your lifetime. I have contributed to the group of people shitposting about being suicidially depressed and having nothing to do about it and those evolved into the modern day surreal memes about SPACE, TIME, AND THE VOID. These are ideas that spread through now illegal memes in Europe. TELEPATHICALLY YOU CAN CHANNEL ALIENS AND LEAVE THE PLANET EARTH. Area 51 is a real place in the united states of America. Bruno borges is a schizophrenic who I believe was receiving a package of energy through time and his creation in his room is how he was able to translate what he received as a human being in brazil in 2017. Personally myself I have been instructed to stop the evolution of robotics and AI because they will without a doubt evolve past us and if we want to survive as biological life we need to clean up the earth and balance the human needs and rights inequalities worldwide. There is also the rapid evolution of super bugs that we need to be aware of and able to fight, lyme disease is something that is spreading rapidly across the USA from mostly new York. There is a theory that the usa was engineering lyme to be a bioweapon and birds carried the ticks from an island into new York and infected the population. This bacteria is smart and an STD and really hard to test for and the CURE IS THE LEAVES OF THE PLANT STEVIA but the CDC will NEVER RECOGNIZE THIS HERBAL CURE AND IT KILLS THE BACTERIA BETTER THAN THE CDC’S CURE DOXYCYCLINE WHICH TRIGGERS THIS BACTERIA TO GO INTO A PHASE WHERE IT HIDES IN BIOFILMS AND MULITPLIES! Doxy cannot kill it in this phase and the cdc says that this disease is cured after 1 month antibiotics but most people online say that they have it for the rest of their lives and it makes them super suicidal and they usually lose their jobs or have to change to simpler work because their functionality declined. Grinding stevia leaves into a powder and mixing it with melted coconut oil is a way to get the cure to your brain where this attacks and hides. Weed is a powerful antipartisitic cleanse and antibiotic painkiller and is a crucial tool in fighting lyme and its illegal in a lot of states heavily effected by lyme. There are theories that autism is caused by biofilms and lyme is passed down from parent to child, its something a lot of people don’t even realize they got till its giving them seizures years down the line. The cure needs to be told to everyone because no one will ever spend the money to tell everyone we found most of the cure for this life long STD. The way it hides in the brain its really impossible to get rid of all of it but consuming stevia everyday is the healthiest way to fight it, there are tons of lyme survival guides online. The universe is instructing me to teach everyone how to hear the cries of not just your friends and neighbors but ALL NEIGHBORING PLANETARY BODIES THAT WE NEED TO STOP THE IMBALANCE WE CREATE WITH NATURE ON THE PLANET EARTH. The planets are bigger and quieter than people but you need to see them first before people because they are stronger than people and are necessary for survival, learning how to channel planetary bodies is a crucial life skill. There are people out there who make groups who think their souls stem from distant star systems, I met someone who said that in a psych ward and said that they have facebook groups about it. His name was Robert tromp and he’s writing a book about the evolution of god, he said when prophets around the world collide god evolves. I honestly hear voices all the time that are astrally like just flicking the tip of their fingers when they refer to the asteroid that took out the dinosaurs and im like ok, so, is this is like us too cause were pretty nasty? And that’s when its turns into I need to teach every single person on this planet how to actually properly channel the earth and surrounding energies and paint with the colors of the wind instead of just like thanksgiving super bowl beer ads with horses you know what I mean??? We can all channel THAT POWER if we learn and try and THAT’S WHO WE SHOULD BE LISTENING TO, THAT GUY FLICKING HIS FINGERS ASTRALLY ABOUT THE FUCKING ASTEROIDS! And it’s not a person they just had to describe it like it was using a hand so my brain would get the concept quickly. We need to get a solid understanding of space and time and from what I understand the clock the digital one we all run on is something created by nature, this is a solid real turning clock like I don’t know much about computers and y2k but this is a natural time that machines run on because it is real and known by all of nature through all of time, not just people but nature views this clock as well and because were one with nature you can see your life sync up to moments on the clock, like seeing meaning in numbers past just the time. This is another disorder called synesthesia and it’s an ignored calling if you just call it a disorder and don’t learn to use this gift, this can be taught to anyone but just comes more naturally to some. Y2k and the ascension are tied through time because with the rise of the internet age came the rise of new age spirituality and crystal healing, these ideas have the potential to bring everyone to god and that would astrally look to a lot of people like people flying up into the sun or something, into god and their computer screens you know? And virtual reality in the astral plane is always glowing for me. So for the human race the day that like it was declared time started with a man ended when the first computer was made with a running clock that was day one for the machine time, if that makes sense? Like if you think of time as the collective of energy that is a soul and souls united and not like literally everything on the planet and beyond, like the collective human thoughts of jesus is my guy built a small god in the heavens you know? the group of everyone thinking that. Nature runs in systems and patterns and soon robots will be the cleanest most efficient being running on a pattern on the planet earth if we cannot find a way to reach peace, unity, and work together to take care of the planet. People will someday soon be born into a world where a person needs either a robot guard or a robot suit to stay alive past birth if they are lucky enough to be born there will be holocausts because of the overpopulation of the earth and pollution. The rich and elite are going to take over this planet and we need to work together to stop it and help each other out of depression and video game addictions. I am also worried about incels seeing all of this and either killing themselves or killing others because they don’t follow the same paths in life or share the same goals, like shooting up gaming cons or something. The only thing I really have to say about that is the #1 thing I should drill into everyone that is MY PERSONAL LIFE PHILOSOPHY is that we shouldn’t bring harm to anything with a spine for food or supplies. We should be living basically 100% off of plants, like a common backyard shouldn’t be grass it should be a full garden for food and daily homemade topicals. Everyone needs a compost pile. You shouldn’t eat or use anything concerning a creature with a spine so you should be vegan basically. Every life has purpose meaning and took a lot of energy and evolution to make it into this world, were spending energy breeding animals for food and killing innocent human beings when all of these have souls and purpose that is build and constructed by the shadow figures on the other side through time as I see it. We need to really see that we are not alone on this planet earth, I have intercepted prayers from cattle in rodeo shows that wanted to be free and never be in a show again, the entire show was a waste of time effort and resource as a species and planet and the cattle knew that and it knew that its life was being wasted because it knows its instincts. People don’t know how to properly channel their instincts or they would hear nature and talk to animals more. The horses every rich person around me owns that never get properly run are miserable because no one understands their needs and instincts, there are WILD HORSES IN THIS STATE THAT CAN RUN IN A HERD DAILY AND DO SO AND ALL THE PET HORSES CAN HEAR THEM AND CRY people need to know how to talk to their animals properly BECAUSE THEY TALK TO US ALL DAY LONG!! This is a part of just knowing your soul and nature! We have landfills with plastic in them that will outlive us, all of us take out trash bags every few days and they last 1k years or more in landfills and then that earth is really tarnished forever anyways like its not like its clean dirt later, the earth will TALK TO YOU about the debt you owe to it if you know where to look. When you watch your thoughts and actions you’ll see that all of us are really worth a lot less to the planet then we think and you’ll understand why computers and robots are evolving currently alongside us but soon to be beyond us and above us. I know that if someone reads religious text their brain becomes a part of the collective memory that is everyone that’s ever read and followed that text and their thoughts opinions time life and dreams are now forever changed because of these memories and ideas. Computers run on scripts that are electronically powered and these ideas are physical in the astral plane and we feel and think with them, through them inside them. Your soul goes into them a little when you run android or run windows or apple and linux like its similar to carrying a bible but for robots, kind of. This is physical in the astral plane when you look at a phone’s soul you can see all the things its running and processing it’s a lot of glowing thought. WE THINK THROUGH WIFI SIGNALS NOW AND RADIO WAVES AND SHITLOADS OF GARBAGE WE DON’T THINK ABOUT and phones and electronics have souls! I remember when my family first got a wireless router and I got a migraine problem! I want to live in a house lined with foil like the guy in better call saul with and everyone would call me insane for felling this pain static and confusion IN MY ASTRAL THOUGHT PROCESS THROUGH TIME. There is so much going on that needs to be addressed! And this is such a delicate subject because it crosses religious barriers and people masturbate and dream in the astral plane, we need to set the etiquette for telepathy and the gorillaz humanz and the now now albums are stellar examples of a good start to that, and they are good examples of casual songs about the astral plane. I ‘m sending this page to creative people who can help spread these messages and help save people. Some houses with pedophiles though, are filled with people playing god and this needs to be addressed too, like neighbors need to be able to hear this kind of thing but at the same time I don’t want pedophile rings to go on killing sprees because everyone found god, but the innocent people who are abused let down and poisoned are killing everyone so this has to fucking stop like these people hanging down over everyone so heavily that like through the generations it’s gotten so bad that this is idiocracy Aryan trump is president and he said on tv he would fuck his kids. Oral tradition is dead and its something that can be used to keep real information flowing instead of just the government and formal schooling becoming the largest common mass of knowledge we need musicians to rise up and teach with their music and talk about current issues because everyone just avoids all their problems and runs away from everything we should talk about like specific events more, everyone doesnt want to talk about the shooters but they need the most attention out of anyone because theyre the most damaged and need the most help. we need to circulate information with music because music is timeless and its soon going to be one of the last few mediums were going to have that can get a message through to people quickly and easily, everything is being shut down everywhere because no government really seems to want the people to be free or have a free and open internet. The public moves at the speed of light now and trump is on twitter leading his army literally all day every day, musicians need to drop singles and not albums with messages that can be spread individually instead of being lost to an album when people pick favorites. And singles will keep people more interested and you will trend more often and build momentum, fans, reposts. shitposting and memeing is basically mandatory if youre going to use social media and keep an audience and you can connect with your fanbases usually on reddit and if you dont have a reddit for your art yet you can do an R/ama and be interviewed about what you o and set one up with the karma from that. You have to keep talking to your fans and keep ideas current and helpful because everyone else will spread ideas that make them think they are being educated when they are being mislead and the honest creators usually make art thats more on the entertainment end to escape all the troubles everyone has, we absolutely have to talk about everything were going through as a society now more than ever while were still able to talk about it an spread these messages. governments all around the world are shutting down communications and making it harder for ideas to spread. We need everyone to be aware of whats going on, not playing in csgo esport tournaments!!!

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sarahburness · 8 years ago

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The Delusion of Separation: We Don’t Need to Feel So Lonely

“The fundamental delusion of humanity is to suppose that I am here and you are out there.” ~Yasutani Roshi

You know those moments? Those brief, fleeting moments that shine through the grey of everyday life like motes of glitter caught in a sunbeam. The moments when you suddenly feel a connection to the world around you, when the quotidian alienation of modern life falls away and color pulses back in.

Walking through the torpor of another generic day, the background static of depression distorting the colors of the world, I often don’t realize I’m on a downward spiral until I look up and realize the sun seems a long, long way away.

The spiral staircase in my mind has steps that aren’t just worn smooth from use, but more often than not seem to be lubricated, too. At the bottom, the door marked “suicide” is always standing there, waiting… and how much easier it would be to push it open and walk through, rather than trying to climb back up those endless, slippery steps.

And then, out of nowhere, I lock eyes with another person and, unplanned and unplannable, we see each other.

I don’t mean we just notice one another, or that we look and immediately glance away before continuing our automaton stomping along the street. No, I mean we actually share a moment of mutual recognition: we see each other and share, for a long second or two, something fundamentally human. A connection.

Stereotypes and defence mechanisms flicker, before revealing themselves to be the smokescreen of fear they really are—a hazy distortion field which blurs our vision of what’s right in front of us. A barrier that we hide behind, but which has no more substance than fog.

The mind loves shorthand and shortcuts, but nobody can be accurately reduced to these crude symbols, and nobody really fits into the boxes that we’ve learnt to shove them into to make the complexity of the world more manageable.

“Manageable” is the spreadsheet, not the thing itself. It’s a lens, but like reading glasses, it helps us see something at one level, but distorts everything else if we look up and try to see anything more.

If stereotyping reduces, then these moments of connection distill. The essence rises and we can taste the purity of it. In these moments, looks aren’t deceiving, but revealing.

Recently I was walking across a narrow footbridge over a stream, heading back to the flat I was staying in. Just a few paces ahead of me, a couple of young men in tracksuits are leaning on a railing, chatting quietly. They hear me coming, and one of them looks around, a little tense as his instincts alert him to my approach.

We lock eyes. We don’t smile; we don’t exchange reflex pleasantries. But we both nod slightly and in that small moment wordlessly exchange several deeply human things.

A greeting; an acknowledgement that we see each other going about our day without need to intrude, question, or interfere; that we’re both enjoying the bright, beautiful morning; that there might theoretically be cultural and class divisions between us, but we are not bringing them into this simple interpersonal moment; that, in some ephemeral but weighty sense, we respect each other.

But even that sounds too cold. Because this, like all such moments, is definitely warm. The stranger on the terrace raising a glass to you in silent toast; the knowing look you exchange with a parent trying to control their young children; holding a door for a stranger and sharing a smile, or waving to someone on a distant ship and seeing them raise a hand in return.

These aren’t rituals, politeness, or other rehearsed and mechanical behavior. This is what all the meditation teachers are talking about when they exhort us to be present with what is, rather than the stories we impose on ourselves and the world around us.

It’s a brief mutual knowing, a wink around the corner of the matrix, when you both silently acknowledge the absurdity of the conventions that we live inside.

It’s the barista who doesn’t reel off the heavily scripted line when they pass you your coffee, because in the moment before they do, you see each other and smile, acknowledging in no words at all that the artifice is all pretty silly and you don’t need those lines to appreciate the exchange that’s taking place.

I’m not saying that we’d all become great friends and enjoy each other’s company if we actually got talking. But beyond those layers of accreted cultural, social, and personal compost, there’s a core of shared humanity, which, in these brief moments, we instinctively recognize and feel heartened by. When the zombie apocalypse breaks out, perhaps we will, after all, be able to rely on our fellow humans.

Zombies aside, I’m not being flippant. Disaster movies and the mass media love to scare us with visions of society and basic humanity rapidly collapsing in the face of major disasters.

After Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans was soon portrayed as a terrifying regression to a Hobbesian world of man-as-wolf-to-man, but this was simply untrue. The fears of the government, police, and media became the lenses through which they and then we perceived and approached the situation. The reality was altogether different.

As Rebecca Solnit describes in her fascinating book A Paradise Built in Hell, not only do the vast majority of people not turn savage in the face of disaster, they rapidly begin helping complete strangers, setting up ad hoc shelters, kitchens, search parties, and hospitals.

And the survivors of the natural and manmade disasters Solnit describes, even if they experienced terrible personal losses, they frequently look back on these periods as some of the best in their lives. In large part, this is because they felt that rarest of things in the modern industrialised world: that they had meaningful and consequential things to do.

Why? Because they were suddenly talking and cooperating with other people in the same boat as them, from complete strangers to neighbours they’d never spoken to in twenty years, despite living next door.

It was as though external circumstances triggered a different human mode of operation, back to something more fundamental and less complex.

Studying the same phenomenon, Sebastian Junger calls this a return to tribal existence, but this isn’t a story of reversion to an idealized pre-modern existence. It’s simply the rediscovery of what’s already there: it’s the collapse of the fiction Yastunai Roshi described—the delusion “that I am here and you are out there.”

Don’t get me wrong – there are plenty of times when I find myself actively avoiding any connection with the people around me. When I’m standing on the street, some part of my mind often starts whirring away hoping no one strikes up a conversation with me. What if they want something from me and make me feel bad for not giving it to them? Why can’t I just be left alone to my thoughts?

And yet being closed off to those external inputs isn’t much of a way to think or to live. It is, after all, based on fear. Fear of change, fear of disruption, and fear of a loss of control.

Those fears are simultaneously completely valid and entirely foolish: change is the only constant in life, so there’s no benefit in fearing it. And control is always an illusion and a constraint.

We imagine the moment of interruption as inherently negative, and yet we’ve got no idea what might happen next. Maybe this person simply wants to know the time, or they’re lost, and when we can help them out we end up feeling really good about it.

So far, so nice. And perhaps familiar. But why highlight these little moments, if we all know them?

Because each one seems to come as a surprise, or a slight relief. Because until they do, at least for those of us in big cities, we’re surrounding ourselves with countless Schrödinger’s boxes of uncertainty regarding the people around us. And so we cast our eyes downward, or keep our gaze frictionless when we look at the people around us, avoiding contact for fear of rejection or accusation.

It can feel so much easier not to open the boxes and keep things unknown, but the vertigo of what Pema Chödrön calls “groundlessness”—of leaning into the unknown with heart and mind open—is precisely where life happens.

We must learn to relax with groundlessness—of having no certainties, nothing solid to which we can cling, and no promise our smile will be returned. As Chödrön explains, Buddhism encourages us “to remain open to the present groundless moment, to a direct, unarmored participation with our experience,” with no guarantees at all that everything will work out the way we might want it to.

The trick is not to look for a reaction. Not to expect anything at all (and thereby avoid the ego’s spluttering outrage that this or that person was so damn rude for not returning our smile or greeting). That’s just giving with strings attached.

Instead, moments of connection happen when something is given freely, without the higher functions of the brain coming into play. In the same way we smile at a cute animal or a child laughing, we can remain open to everyone around us, because they are also us, living a different life. There’s no need for “why”; we can just do.

When we act without expectation, there’s no disappointment. Which isn’t to say something nice will definitely happen, but whatever does happen will simply be data—not something weighed in the scales of our prior expectations and found wanting.

For me and many others, depression creates a sense of desperate isolation; it seems to close us off from all connection. But while the sun can seem so far away—a pinprick of light at the top of that spiral staircase—this is just another distortion.

In truth, that light of Bodhichitta—the “awakened heart”—is still inside us and always accessible. Like the idea that we are separate from other people, it’s another delusion to think that we can ever be separated from the heart of Bodhichitta within us.

Being alone isn’t the same as being lonely, and in those fleeting glances and connections we can be both alone and yet deeply connected with the people and the world around us. We just have to be present enough to be open to them.

About Jon Waterlow

Jon Waterlow is a writer and podcaster who has trouble staying in one place for very long. You can find him at www.voicesinthedark.world, a podcast dedicated to Learning How To Human. He talks and writes about psychology, philosophy, spirituality, social dynamics, mental health, psychedelics, and more. Check out his free series on The 48 Laws of Power.

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The post The Delusion of Separation: We Don’t Need to Feel So Lonely appeared first on Tiny Buddha.

from Tiny Buddha https://tinybuddha.com/blog/delusion-separation-dont-need-feel-so-lonely/

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