#they also talk about hatim a lot

[blackicek1lls]

so I recently finished POTO and apparently the Detective doesn't even know their own name??? the footnotes are definitely written by them so like what the fuck. at least we know they're not French? and are very modern??

[textsfromthefifthbasement]

I finally finished MAZM: Phantom of the Opera! I’m leaving the review under the cut because it’s long and also spoilers for some elements of the game that aren’t in other Phantom adaptations.

General

First off, I loved the art style of the game. The character designs were quite adorable, and it definitely seemed like they made an effort to follow the original Leroux character designs. They had a blonde Christine and an olive-skinned, dark-haired Meg. I also thought they did a great job with Erik’s character design (though there was too much hair). The sets were beautiful. The majority of the main plot of the game does follow the Leroux book, which I really appreciated. There were some favorite moments in the book that I wish had been incorporated, such as Raoul waking up to find Erik watching him sleep (don’t judge I just find it freaking hilarious), but they incorporated so many other small scenes from the book, such as the managers trying to prevent Erik from taking his salary by using the safety pin. As a history nerd, I also really appreciated the collectible notes giving historical context to some of the discussions, including about three notes on the Paris Commune/Bloody Week. I wished the characters would have had different outfits rather than wear the same outfit the entire story. At the very least, I wished they had made a Red Death outfit for Erik during the masquerade.

I also want to point out and give a warning to anyone who has suicide ideation before they try this game. Pretty early on in the story, you play an episode in which you control Joseph Buquet after he’s dropped into Erik’s torture chamber, and eventually, you have to walk to the noose and pick it. The scene cuts right before he hangs himself. About partway through the story, when you control Christine, there’s a scene in which she has to talk Erik out of killing himself with a shard from a broken vase. At the end, when Christine and Raoul go down to Erik’s house to bury him, they found that he had committed suicide.

In all, I spent about 23 hours on the game from start to finish. I still need to go back and replay a few episodes to complete the achievements. I missed quite a few of the historical notes, and there are parts where you can make different decisions to influence what happens.

In this game, the studio added a lot of subplots that didn’t exist in the book and expanded on some canonical subplots as well. I did enjoy quite a few of these.

The Dancers

Meg, Jammes, and Sorelli are all major characters in the game, and I loved seeing them have more characterization and actual character arcs. Jammes, as a character, doesn’t change as much as the others, but she is only a child. As in the book, she is pretty frightened of ghost stories, strangers, and the Phantom, but in the game, she also loves and takes care of the stray cats living around the opera house and does turn into a bit of a spitfire when her friends are threatened by the various happenings at the opera. Sorelli has a knife and is not afraid to use it, and she comes to realize that her fear of being alone led her to stay with Philippe de Chagny in spite of the fact that he would never officially acknowledge her. Meg, in the beginning, seems afraid of her own shadow, but throughout the game, definitely comes into her own and also develops a much healthier relationship with her mother.

Union

This had to be hands-down my favorite subplot of the game. In the beginning, when Moncharmin and Richard first become the managers of the Palais Garnier, they mistreat Christine and mass fire anyone who mentions the Phantom of the Opera. When Christine goes missing for several weeks, Meg, Sorelli, and Jammes finally decide they have had enough and basically unionize the ballet dancers. There’s an entire protest, a performance in which the ballerinas refuse to perform, and they end up getting a promise from the managers to stop indiscriminately firing and mistreating people.

Christine’s Ending

GUYS. When I joked about Christine just traveling the world and performing instead I had no idea that was an actual choice you can make for her. It’s such a bittersweet ending, but I personally hope that one day she would have emotionally healed enough from her ordeal to come back to Paris and reunite with her old friends.

That being said, there were also a lot of additions/changes that I…really wasn’t a fan of.

Melek

So, for context. During Christine’s first stay at Erik’s house, she decides to do some exploring while he’s gone. While in his room, she hears a woman’s voice behind a wall and goes to investigate. She discovers a hidden door, and behind that hidden door is Melek. We find that Melek is a blind Turkish woman who had been one of Erik’s servants during his time in Constantinople. She had refused to marry him, and so he had kidnapped her and had kept her locked in that room for ten years.

Yes, I have a lot of problems with this.

I think the first thing is that when Melek was introduced is when I really realized that the game was never going to go in the direction of presenting Erik as a character who was sympathetic at times and not so much at others. The game had already painted him as a very unsympathetic character up until then through showing how he had gaslit Christine as the Angel of Music. Introducing Melek really drove that point home, which was kind of disappointing seeing as how the literal point of Leroux’s Le Fantome de l’Opera was that we should pity Erik for how he was treated because of his face.

Additionally, Melek’s character just…didn’t do anything. The more she was around, the more I wondered what the point of her character was. She does offer Christine support half of the time, and then the other half of the time is her being upset because Christine wants to change Erik rather than murder him. Ultimately, it’s my point of view that her character was not a great addition to the game and would have preferred a closer adherence to the book in that regard.

Hatim and PTSD

*sigh* This part seriously pissed me off. While Raoul and Hatim (the Daroga) are in the torture chamber, Hatim tells Raoul the story between him and Erik. We end up playing through a flashback of when Hatim discovers Erik living at the opera house ten years ago. As they discuss their past, we and Hatim quickly realize that Erik has PTSD, and mentioning the Shah of Persia is a serious trigger for him. Which, alright. That does make some sense story-wise.

And then through other flashbacks, Hatim proceeds to use this against Erik. Like he literally would trigger him purposefully as a punishment. And say that he was doing it for his own good.

Like, excuse me, but. What the fuck. What. The actual. Fuck. No. Don’t ever do that, that’s shitty.

Anyways by the end I was legitimately rooting for Erik to punt him.

Erik’s Ending

In the original Leroux novel, Erik presents Christine with a choice: turn the scorpion, and she will marry him, or turn the grasshopper, and the entire opera house will blow up. Christine chooses the scorpion, kisses him on the forehead, and he is so overwhelmed by the action that he saves Raoul’s life and lets them go together. The only promise he extracts from Christine is that she will come back and bury him when he dies, which he believes will be soon. Two weeks later, an ad runs in the newspaper that reads simply, “Erik is dead.”

Yeah. The game really went off the rails here in respect to following the Leroux book. After Christine turns the scorpion, Erik pulls Raoul into the lake and leaves him there, thinking he’ll drown or freeze to death, and then returns to force the marriage. He does eventually let Christine and Melek go, as Christine tells him that she will never love him and that she believes he is a monster, all while he is on his knees begging her just to love him a little. There is no forehead kiss. To the end, Erik writes and tells Hatim that Christine is the devil, and that she abandoned him in hell and wants her to suffer for the rest of her life knowing what she did to him. Yeah, I wish I was making that up.

There is one point where Christine tells Erik it’s not her job to save him. Which I agree with. I feel like whoever wrote the story had a misunderstanding of the ending of the book, or else thought the idea wasn’t explicitly stated enough. The forehead kiss does, in some respect, save Erik. It makes him realize how badly he’s treated everyone and yet Christine is still willing to extend kindness towards him. But it’s not Christine saving him, it’s him coming to that realization on his own. Ultimately, the game traded that idea for a way more heavy-handed “I am not here to save you, I am going to make my own decisions from here on.”

And then, in the face of all that, we’re also missing Erik changing and redeeming himself despite the fact that he’s close to death. Instead, he dies while leaving basically a suicide note to Hatim saying that Christine is the devil and he made her promise to return to bury him to hurt her. Which is so out of character if we look at the book characterization.

Like I knew I was signing up to get my heart ripped out, I just figured it was going to maybe be the brand of Christine having to choose whether or not to stay while Erik dies. And damnit, I just wanted a single forehead kiss.

Anyways, I really enjoyed the game up until the ending. I just seriously disliked the ending for the most part. If you’re more of a fan of the idea of Christine being on her own and finding her own path, that is an enjoyable option to go with. I still need to play through that episode with the marry Raoul choice and see what happens with that option though.

[storiesofthesahabah]

Is it a yes or no? You don’t have to tell me or anyone else your answer, but I ask you to use your answer to reflect accordingly from the story I am about to share with you. _____

Whenever we read or listen to the Qur’an, do we reflect from what we just read or listened to? Don’t deny - be honest - sometimes we do it for the sake that our parents, spouse or even teacher would stop nagging us about it.  Indeed, this generation is strange and have developed different trends where they use social media to somehow “remind” others about Islam, ibadah and the likes. We see a lot of sisters, showing their faces on some mere 1-3 min videos with an ayah or hadith being shared on captions without minding the fact that they are fueling the preying eyes of nonMahrams. Same goes to brothers. It is good to remind others as we are advised and told to do so in the Qur’an, but we also have to be responsible enough on how we should address or do this.  Why am I raising this issue - because the story I am about to share with you speaks volumes regarding haya and your connection to your Lord and the Qur’an. _____ This incident happened during the time of the Prophet ﷺ‎ . Ibn Abi Hatim Radiyallahu Anhu narrates that the Prophet ﷺ‎ used to go out late night to see how his companions prayed and supplicated and would weep in the darkness, One night, when the Prophet ﷺ was out and doing his regular checking, he‎ passed by a house where he heard an old woman’s voice from behind a door - the old woman was crying and kept repeating a single verse from the Qur’an: “Has there reached you the report of the Overwhelming [event]?” [88:1] The old woman cried terribly while repeating this particular verse again and again. When this happened, the Prophet ﷺ placed his blessed head against the door and began to cry while saying:

“Yes, it did reach me. Yes, it did reach me.” _____ It is a very short story but take a moment to make this scene sink in, imagine our beloved Prophet ﷺ‎ crying out while hearing the old woman’s voice as she kept repeating this particular verse - and how much impact it has given to both the Prophet ﷺ and the old woman. Imagine the closeness of the old woman to the Qur’an - and how her heart is moved as she recites this verse as a warning and reminder from her Lord. Many of us, may have read the story above and would say “oh okay, that’s it?” without being affected and realizing that such verse is very heavy and scary in a sense that it warns us that sooner or later - we will have to face the inevitable time of death and that our meeting with Allah has been truly prescribed and is coming. Yet, we live this life as if we will never leave it - that it will never perish. My dear brothers and sisters in Islam, you may be wondering what is the connection of me raising the issue of sisters and brothers using social media particularly tiktok where they use it to “Remind” others about Islam - it is simple - remind yourself first.  The old woman in this story, subhan’Allah we don’t know how much Allah has honored her that her story reached our generation without her name being known yet her character is being told. She might have not been known here but indeed, in the heavens she is known. subhan’Allah. Such are the qualities of the sahabiyat (female companions). Most of them are unknown yet their character especially when it comes to haya puts any sister in their rightful places.  This old woman - didn’t even have to show her face nor did she even intend to be known for her ibadah - as she was doing this in the middle of the night when everyone else was sound asleep. Indeed, our actions and character is the best form of dawah - no matter how much effort you put it to make yourself look good in your videos or so - the truth of the matter is the sincerity of your actions. My sisters in Islam, if you want to remind others about their ibadah or to let them know about Islam - message the sister, converse with the sister - you do not need to flaunt your face and speak infront of videos where millions or even billions of nonMahrams can screenshot and save it in their phones.  This particular sahabiyah, Allah concealed even her name due to the high status He has given her. If you truly knew the honor of being concealed through modesty, you would want to be covered from head to foot.  Did you know that the Sahabah, when they used to talk about their families or they are asked about their spouses - they never said even the names of their wives rather they will say Umm so and so or that they will say my family - this is how the gheerah of the saharan were, this is how they honor the women of Islam. - this way of them is also mentioned in the Qur’an if you would just realize. ______ Let us focus with our connection with our Lord, our ibadah, our Qur’an and you will see how Allah will make use of you to remind others about Him and Islam.  If you want to be in the dawah field - there is nothing wrong in that but make sure you are well connected with your ibadah yourself so you can practice what you preach.  There are many ways to do dawah, putting up a video of yourself is not the “only” way. This ayah doesn’t only remind us that the inevitable will happen but also it reminds us that your life has an ending in this world - it is warning you so make sure your deeds are in line with goodness and sincerity. There is so much that this short incident can teach us, I may have pointed out a few but feel free to reflect more about it.  If ever such warning haven’t reached you then I hope by reading this tory, a life warning has reached you. ______ May Allah make us amongst such people who are well connected with Him through learning the Qur’an and establishing our salah and making the most of the days we are living in this world to do great deeds that would benefit us in the life hereafter. Amin Umm Umar Khaled _____ P.S. If you have been following my blog, you will know that I have used this story in one of my blog entries but in a different light, I felt the need to address some issue through this particular story, hence - it is here. _____ Story was taken from: • Tafsir Notes from Surah Al Ghasiyah 1436 AH

[dorkshadows]

Mazm Anon: :O Moncharmin was amazing, I couldn't help thinking though of how he was just straight-up admitting to a detective that he tried to frame someone for murder and orchestrated the kidnapping and attempted murder(?) of Jammes dfkfgsdfkk and then there's Richard being utterly terrified of the academy and having to put up with a partner who doesn't know anything about music rip. I have some more thoughts, turns out I miss this game now that it's done orz. (1/5)

I think they did try to make the characters more flawed/complex overall, and I appreciated a lot of it--like giving Christine a practical reason to take off Erik's mask, thinking he must be hiding his face 'cuz she already knows him, and how they gave Meg her own character arc about her mother and how she feels being put into this role she isn't suited for, and the stuff you already talked about with Raoul and Hatim and Badass Sorelli. And then PHILIPPE. I loved what happened to Philippe. (2/5)

Hey anon! Welcome back ;) YES, Moncharmin > everyone else, he was just on a whole other level LMAO. I was also screaming over his plan to frame Christine for murder, and the fact that he and Richard actually literally canonly kidnapped and tried to murder Jammes like ajsdfasdfasdfasd when will other poto managers ever. Richard was also done in a way I didn’t expect, but I loved how his personality contrasted with Moncharmin even though they were both like, mob members LMAO. Like, this was the real love story. 

Same here. I really liked the detail with unmasking Erik (unfortunately, it was one of the last logical choices they allowed Christine to have). Meg’s character arc was great- different than her book or musical personality, but it was an interesting change- and I like how this was the first adaptation that acknowledged the conflict between her and Madame Giry (LND doesn’t count). Sorelli’s arc was wonderful too! I even want to adopt this Sorelli into my headcanon for her- they made her complex and memorable. 

She wasn’t just the head ballerina and Phillipe’s girlfriend- she was a proud young woman with some self esteem issues because she isn’t booksmart, and her arc taught her to be an independent self-respecting person who realized she was too good for Philippe. Like, damn! Mazm really went off on the side characters.

Because when I was reading the original novel, keeping in mind the conceit that it's an account of real events, Philippe is sus as hell with the way the narrative was constantly praising his character and making him seem like a GOOD guy for taking control of what should have been all his siblings' inheritance, and how his siblings totally didn't mind?? But here Raoul just goes for his throat about it and I loved it, and then loved that he died due to his own idiocy in Horror Movie fashion (3/5)

We’re probably in the minority about this XD but I totally agree. Philippe was always very flawed to me, which is why he’s one of my favorites LOL. He’s interesting because he’s such a flawed person imo. The inheritance thing didn’t bother me since he was the head of the family and it didn’t seem like he was hording the fortune or anything. But this is like, what he should legally be doing. I see no reason to praise him for doing what he’s obligated to do lmao. Same with all the times he was just there doing the bare minimum, but getting maximum praise. 

So even though Raoul really went a bit far when he accused Philippe of that, it was interesting that he did. Just like the Girys, mazm added way more realistic conflict to their relationship. Philippe dying of his own idiocy is really in the game’s top 3 moments though. The fandom: “philippe did nothing wrong and died innocent.” Mazm: “philippe died because he’s a dumbass”

(tfw you're too stressed to hide what an asshole you are.) And yet, there was also that bit of depth by showing that he did care about Raoul and died worrying about him. Some of Erik's changes were also, interesting. I think you can probably tell I did not like a lot of the changes to him or Christine but I did like him a lot as the false angel rip (there was that moment when Christine mentions she has to save a friend and he's just like "friend....?" and goes quiet, also him promising to (4/5)

protect her from the phantom like OKAY ERIK.) It was also interesting that they gave him much less agency and more abuse in his backstory (being sold instead of running away, being the Shah's jester, etc.) as kind of an explanation for why he takes so little "responsibility" for his actions now, despite being so critical of Christine for even attempting to pity him for his circumstances. So ye! Lots to chew on. Wish we learned more about the Detective tho ;w; (5/5)

LMAO Exactly! Philippe’s worst and best sides came out in that chapter and it was amazing. We saw what an absolute privileged brute he was towards the ballerinas, but also how much he was willing to risk for his little brother. Like, this is the Philippe I signed up for. This is the person I’ve always saw him as. so vindicated.

LOL Same here. The changes to Erik and Christine were um, awkward at best. Maybe if this was an original story, I could accept it, but what happened just felt detrimental to the original themes. For example, Christine was naive in the book but she was also practical and brave from start to finish. Imo Christine’s compassion isn’t just a result of her innocence- it’s not going to go away just because she loses that innocence. It actually gets stronger. Kindness and faith are her virtues, not her flaws, but the game thought otherwise ugh. Mazm decided that her arc was “growing a spine” and went on to butcher her actual arc asdfasdf

The false angel bit was nice! It was paced creepily and you got the vibe that this Erik really doesn’t know how to interact with people + is dangerous, even as the angel of music. I laughed so hard when he said he’d protect her from the phantom ngl XD

“It was also interesting that they gave him much less agency and more abuse in his backstory (being sold instead of running away, being the Shah's jester, etc.) as kind of an explanation for why he takes so little "responsibility" for his actions now, despite being so critical of Christine for even attempting to pity him for his circumstances.”

I’m with you on this! Not sure if I think it was a good choice though, but it was an interesting one. Erik had no agency whatsoever in his life and with that kind of past, it’s no wonder he turned out the way he did + developed this mental state where he’d never take responsibility for his actions. In the book, he had a similar “coping”/deflecting mechanism but I think he was always aware that he was responsible- he just didn’t feel the weight of the consequences until his change of heart.

In the game, they made it strangely hard for us to interpret because like you said, they were full-on bashing Christine for being “naive” enough to pity Erik. But at the same time, they created a backstory where Erik’s past crimes were literally not his fault. He was used and abused by everyone in his life, including Hatim--  this Erik legit had no standard of “goodness” to measure to. He wasn’t even allowed to earn his own respect. I feel that mazm Erik is quite the terrible guy and one of the worst Eriks out there in terms of morality, but wow, it’s hard not to feel a bit bad for him given that backstory.

“Cool story, still murder.” But like... that kind of story could actually hold up in court adjsfasdfa.

What I didn’t like- I should touch on this in the full review lol- about it is that they tried to inject the same lessons from the book but in the worst ways. Like, Erik’s arc is supposed to be “no matter how bad your past is, it’s not an excuse to take it out on other people (+ it’s never too late to do see the light, in the book at least)” but here it REALLY felt like “you’re too broken to function because you’re a bad person. If you’re a victim of abuse who didn’t turn out to be an all forgiving saint, too bad, go to hell.” The message left a bad taste in my mouth, which only got worse when mazm made Christine become a colder, more hateful person as a result of all this. For what? Realism?? please.

btw, I thought the detective was Joseph Buquet’s daughter in disguise at first XD Was a bit disappointed when that wasn’t the case haha, but yeah, it would’ve been nice to get some more insight about him. 

TLDR; I vibe with all your thoughts, anon! Thanks for getting me to think about the game again!

[tiny-smallest]

not all gone (but you’ll wish it was)

Rating: T Characters: Henry, Bendy, mention of Joey, Buddy (oc) Warnings: implied abuse, so much Description: Thirty years after running away from his abusive caretaker, Bendy returns to Joey Drew Studios at the behest of the man who hurt him so badly, afraid at the vague threat Joey made towards his friends. Upon his arrival he finds the place utterly abandoned...

Except for his dead best friend and a tiny, knock-off version of himself he finds shortly thereafter.

Surely turning the Ink Machine back on will fix Boris but... the little knock-off? Apparently doesn't agree.

Also on AO3!

HELLO WELCOME TO ‘I HAD AN IDEA’ STARRING @upperstories​‘s BUDDY AND @thelostmoongazer​‘s HATIM BENDY TIME TO SEE WHO REALIZES WHAT’S GOING ON HERE EHEHEHEHEHE

This felt like a million mistakes. The biggest was leaving in the first place. Oh god, Bendy did not realize it was possible to feel this guilty. It was going to smother him out of existence.

But it was also why he had to make this right. @#$% Joey. He wasn’t sure what the man wanted from him, and this was probably not it, but he wasn’t leaving this place without attempting to fix his best buddy.

Finding him was... indescribable. With every footstep he heard that question again.

“What do you want from me, Joey?”

Why Boris? What did Boris ever do to Joey? Boris was the kindest, sweetest person he knew. He lacked the grown-up wisdom of... of him... but he made up for that with sheer, enthusiastic, endearing chutzpa.

Boris, Alice, him... sweet Lucifer Morningstar how he missed them. How he’d mourned them, at times, sure he’d never see them again. And now thanks to Joey...

The more he thought about the ripped opened corpse strapped to a table the more he wanted to be sick. He had to bring Boris back. He had to.

The Machine was his one chance. Boris’s one chance.

Assembling one’s own potential doom was not an easy task. With each item he collected he feared he was just writing on his own tombstone. Here Lies Bendamin D. Drew. Idiot Extraordinaire; Thought Interacting With Demonic Rituals Made By Joey Drew Was A Smart Idea.

But if this worked... if turning that thing on fixed his friend...

There was still no telling what would happen, exactly, but at least Boris would be alive. He deserved--was owed--that much.

If he weren’t also so irritated he might have been glad for the distraction from the all encompassing guilt and terror that were mixing in his gut like lead. As it stood, the little pipsqueak was really grinding his gears.

Or gear, as fate would have it.

“Kid, I need that.” He folded his arms across his chest, tapping his foot. The tiny look-alike, whose very existence sent his heart twisting with bitterness, held the gear aloft in probably the only exhibition of tooniness Bendy had seen from him so far. Likely because the gear was so big compared to him there was no other way to carry it.

He’d question how he held onto it with his ridiculous mitten-fingers, but whatever. Toon. Barely a toon, but a toon nonetheless.

Said barely-toon shook his head.

“I gotta turn it on. Did you just miss the- the body in the other room or what!?” He gestured back in the general direction of that horrid room, feeling his forehead drip a little. “There’s a pipe connected right to him! I can fix him!”

Still, the runt shook his head.

“You’ve been following me around and yankin’ on my tail this whole time an’ trying to pull me away from stuff! Two hours! Two hours’a that! Haven’t you been annoying enough!?”

He shrank a little then, but gripped the gear tighter, face morose. Bendy stamped his foot.

“Gimmie the gear already! I got enough problems without this malarkey!”

Another shake of the head.

“I said gimmie!” He grabbed for it and the runt zipped around him, speeding off. Cursing up a storm, Bendy followed, which was in hindsight a bad idea if he wanted to catch the brat. Slidewhistles and airhorns were not exactly stealthy and signaled to his target where he was.

It wasn’t long before he was cornered, though. Bendy’s run slowed to a jog and then to a walk as he and the runt realized, at the same time, that he’d run into a dead end, trying to hide in the room Bendy had found the record in. The runt made staticky sounds of distress as he shoved himself and the gear as far under the desk as he could, arms out as if trying to protect the stupid thing.

“Oh c’mon,” Bendy huffed as he got down on his hands and knees, reached under the desk, and yanked the toon and the gear out, letting go of the runt’s arm and quickly hoisting the gear out of his reach. “Jeez, at literally no point did you wanna make this whole thing even a little easier, did ya? Take a hike if yer not gonna help me, brat; I got a best friend to save.”

He turned on his heel and returned to the ritual room, shuddering at the pillars. Yeesh…

… He’d need a stool to get up there, wouldn’t he? “I don’ know if I’ve said this enough but wow, I hate this!”

Shoving the gear into hammerspace, he circled back to the hallway, stealing a chair from it. The runt came running out of the little radio room to pull his tail again, trying to pull him back even as Bendy pushed the chair onwards.

“Quit pullin’ my tail!” he shrieked as he got the chair in place, whipping around to snatch his tail out of the other toon’s hands. “Get lost already! Go- crawl down an inkwell or somethin’!”

The tiny, dripping thing stared (presumably, anyway; creepy little thing had NO VISIBLE EYES HOW WAS HE EVEN DOING ALL THIS) at him, eyebrows knitted together in fear or maybe sadness, but shoulders squared. Sort of. Pah. As if he could fight him!

“I don’ know what other ideas you have brewin’ but consider: don’t,” he seethed as he climbed up the chair, pulling out the gear.

While the runt kicked up a fuss the entire time, there mercifully wasn’t much he could do. Bendy sat all the items on their pedestals, cringing each time they settled in place and their spotlight lit up.

He stared at The Illusion of Living clutched in his trembling fingers. Even if it wasn’t the original one--and he had no idea if it was or wasn’t, but he had a feeling Joey would never let the original out of his sight--the sight of it still made his stomach clench.

Slowly, he set it on the pedestal. The marble column depressed into the ground with a clicking sound, the spotlight snapping on above.

Okay. That was done. He quickly pulled the chair away as the runt made to try to scramble up it, pulling the chair far from the pedestals. Judging by the frustrated way he looked at the chair and then at the six places, moving the thing was beyond his capabilities.

There is a god, he grumbled to himself as he left the room. The runt wasn’t long in following, making desperate noises and tugging at his coat and tail. The hardest part of this hell over, Bendy grabbed his tail away and held it as he marched onwards. Fixing the ink pressure should be miles easier than gathering up the ritual items.

The runt ran on ahead when he snatched his tail away. He let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he was going to finally disappear.

Two minutes later, as he turned a corner and walked down a hallway, one of his cutouts peeked around the corner.

“YEEEEEAAAAA!” Bendy jumped back, half ready to bolt, arms up as if unsure whether he was going to try to shield his head or punch whatever jumped out at him.

Nothing.

Slowly, he eased from his tense position, then slapped a hand to his forehead. “That’s you, ain’t it?”

No answer. But he could hear little shuffling sounds.

“... That was you before too, wasn’t it? Wid the cutout. Cripes.” Dragging the hand down his face, he walked down the rest of the hallway, turning the corner and shoving the runt out of the way.

The projector clicked on.

By itself.

“HOLY MOTHER MARY-!” Bendy jumped back, clutching his chest. The runt jumped too.

One of Bendy’s animation reels began to play. Not an episode. Just a simple little moving image. Could barely qualify as a dance. He swallowed.

“Tha’ was one of the very first movin’ images of me produced,” he muttered, turning away from it, shaky arms coming up as if to fold across his chest. They settled in more of a self-hug position.

He’d shown it to him once, talked about how he spent ages on that, getting familiar with his design. His voice was so warm and…

No. No point in dwelling on that. He let go of himself with a heavy sigh and walked around to where the valve he remembered seeing earlier was.

Only to be reminded that it was was too high up. Throwing his arms into the air with a cry of frustration, he turned and grabbed the nearest chair, pulling it over and climbing it to turn the wheel. Screw this; he wanted out of this room!

He pushed the chair away afterwards and stalked back to the room that would make all of this better. Little taps behind him let him know the runt was still following, and he made sure to pick up his tail to avoid anymore blasted tugging.

Standing in front of the lever, he swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut as his fingers wrapped around it.

Please. Just once. Just once, let things work out.

He pulled it just as the runt grabbed onto his arm and tried to yank. But Bendy was stronger, and the lever wasn’t rusted in place. It moved easily, tugged into place with a sharp click.

The room’s lights faded, dimming into darkness. Bendy’s heart rate kicked up, the devil standing there frozen for a good minute, still clutching the lever. The little doppelganger was already trying to shove the lever back up, but no dice. It didn’t budge.

Swallowing was a lot harder now. Trying to ignore how dry his mouth was, Bendy eased his grip off the lever and turned. Peeking down the hall, his face fell.

He didn’t have to enter the room to see Boris himself wasn’t much different. He wasn’t moving. His chest- his chest was- still… open…

Oh there was that nausea again. But he had to get closer to see if there was anything he could do…

Not even the runt bothered him this time as he approached the body. He nearly threw up when he spotted the spurts of ink shooting from his best friend’s ribcage, fleeing the room and down the hall.

It was a few minutes later when he came back to himself, finding himself crying. The runt was nearby, watching with obvious concern. Scowling, Bendy wiped his face with the back of his hand, not so much upset that he’d cried that this little pest had seen it.

“Buzz off,” he whispered.

He didn’t. What a shocker. Wiping his face again, Bendy straightened and pushed off the wall.

Okay, just turning it on didn’t work. Maybe examining the machine itself would help...?

He turned to go. The tiny devil sprang into action, pulling on him desperately. Bendy barely paid any attention until he realized there were inky blotches on the floor beneath them.

That were… too big… to be his…

Fear was a flood of icy water dumped over his head. His eyes snapped over to the brat, then trailed up the hallway.

The footprints were going right to the machine.

Were they big enough to be Joey’s? Wracking his brain as he started walking, he couldn’t come up with an answer. It had been too many years. Joey’s face was something he’d never forget, or how tall he was, but not his feet. Amazing, considering how often Bendy had stared at the floor when in his presence…

The second gut punch came swiftly, sending him reeling. The door was partly boarded up!?

Slowly, he approached.

As he tried to stand on tiptoe to peer through a gap in the boards, a hideous noise sounded from above. Bendy screamed and threw himself backwards as a loathsome shape loomed into view above him, reaching over the boards, wailing out an earpiercing shriek. Bendy landed flat on his back, scrambling to turn himself over and flee.

Halfway down the hallway he realized the runt was not with him.

Skidding to a stop, heart thumping, he turned to find him standing halfway between Bendy himself and the thing smashing its way through the boards. With a cry of terror, he ran back towards the little toon, shaking his shoulder. “KID WE GOTTA GO!”

No response. There were more of them now, horrifying inky husks rising from the flooding ink, but the kid’s gaze remained firmly on the biggest one.

That was heading right for them, something akin to a jaw opening and emitting horrific, guttural sounds.

“ssssss...oooouuuuuulllllllll… SSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUOUOUOUUUULLLL!”

Bendy scooped the runt up and ran for his life as the thing behind them moaned and groaned and chased after them, the dark, inky aura on the walls stealing every last tiny bit of light from the world, moving faster than them, overtaking them, no no no-

But there it was, there was the door, slightly ajar and there was light leaking out of it and they were so close and Bendy reached out to grab the doorjamb and slam it open-

The ground was gone.

With no warning, not so much as a groan, the floor dropped away from under them.

Bendy screamed harder than he’d ever screamed in his life. By the time coherent thought caught up to him they’d already landed in the deep well of ink pooling at the bottom, Bendy coughing and choking as it flooded into his mouth, abruptly cutting off his screams.

Thankfully it also wasn’t very deep, and he kicked his way to the surface, breaking it moments after landing, hoisting the little devil he hadn’t let go of up.

Someplace to put him down. Someplace to put him down. Where-

There! There was a cabinet leaning up against a wall! Bendy kicked and swam over, depositing his tiny charge on the cabinet before hoisting himself up there, breathing heavily.

Slowly, he turned to look at the pipsqueak, who stared upwards from where they fell, trembling and almost as if in a trace.

“What,” Bendy gasped, the other devil jumping and looking to face him, “in blue blazes- was that.”

But only the sound of dripping answered him.

I’m trying to think of something to say for the closing comments here but all I got is my brain responding to ‘regular hatim au’ and ‘bendy and buddy au’ with that stupid ‘why not both’ taco meme MAYBE I WILL HAVE SOMETHING MORE INTELLIGENT TO SAY HERE LATER WHO KNOWS.

Man writing Bendy bitching is fun and I hope too much of my own Bendy characterization didn’t leak in. Pretty sure Bendy would be 1000x more terrified and morose if Buddy wasn’t driving him crazy the entire chapter.

Also I have no idea when Buddy shows up exactly so I’m just rolling with the idea that it happens after Bendy’s done sobbing his eyes out following this scene, probably when he’s picking up the inkwell at the art department.

[questionsonislam]

Will you give information about Jabir bin Abdullah's life, his view on hadiths and his hadith narrations?

Jabir bin Abdullah's father accepted Islam by taking part in the Second Aqaba Pledge. Jabir was about 18-19 years old then. He wanted to join the battles of Badr and Uhud but his father prevented him. Jabir's father, Abdullah, was martyred at the Battle of Uhud. Jabir said the following about it:

"My father was martyred at the Battle of Uhud. My sister gave me a camel and said, 'Go and carry your father’s dead body with this camel; bury him in the cemetery of Sons of Salama.' I went to the battlefield with a few people. When the Messenger of Allah (pbuh) was informed about my arrival, he summoned me. The Messenger of Allah was at Uhud then. He said,

'I swear by Allah in whose hand is my soul that Abdullah will be buried with his brothers (martyrs of Uhud).'

Thereupon, my father was buried with his friends at Uhud."

Hz. Jabir reported 1540 hadiths from the Messenger of Allah. Some people from the Companions and Tabiun went to Jabir Ibn Abdullah in order to learn hadiths from him. Jabir b. Abdullah taught people hadiths in a circle in Masjid an-Nabawi.

Jabir ibn Abdullah made a journey to Damascus that lasted a month in order to learn a hadith that he did not hear from the Messenger of Allah in person from its source, Abdullah ibn Unays.

He narrates this incident as follows:

"I heard a hadith whose narrator was a Companion. I took a camel and went to Damascus after a journey that lasted a month. I saw Abdullah ibn Unays there. I said to his servant, 'Tell him that Jabir is at the door.' Abdullah appeared. When we met at the door of his house, he said 'Jabir Ibn Abdullah!' and hugged me. I said, 'Yes. I came to you when I heard that you heard from the Messenger of Allah a hadith that I did not know.' Thereupon, he narrated me the hadith that he heard from the Messenger of Allah:

'Allah will resurrect people naked and uncircumcised on the Day of Judgment.'"

Once, Jabir went to Egypt in order to learn one hadith from Uqba Ibn Amira and returned to Madinah after learning it.

Jabir ibn Abdullah talked to the Messenger of Allah a lot and he lived a long time after the death of the Messenger of Allah. Therefore, he narrated a lot of hadiths.

Jabir ibn Abdullah knew the Sunnah very well. He is regarded among the hafizes of the Sunnah. He learned hadiths not only from the Prophet (pbuh) but also from Hz. Abu Bakr, Hz. Umar, Hz. Ali, Abu Ubayda, Talha, Muadh Ibn Jabal, Ammar Ibn Yasir, Khalid Ibn Walid, Abu Said, Abdullah Ibn Unays, Umm Sharik and Umm Malik.

Hz. Jabir is one of the people who systematized hadith learning and teaching. He taught hadiths regularly in the hadith circle that he established in Masjid an-Nabawi in Madinah. This circle of his became an assembly that was advised and people came from different places in order to learn from him. Abu Zubayr said Ata sent him to Jabir and learned hadiths for them. Then, he said, "Jabir ibn Abdullah was a reliable person and knew a lot of hadiths." Thus, he pointed out that his narrations were sound and his knowledge was vast.

Jabir Ibn Abdullah, who narrated a lot of hadiths from the Prophet, learned several useful sciences from the Messenger of Allah. He had a booklet including his narrations about hajj worshipping. Rabi’ Ibn Sad said he saw Jabir writing hadiths on some flat materials next to Ibn Thabit. Abu Zubayr, Abu Sufyan and ash-Sha’bi listened to hadiths from Jabir and learned from him. The hadiths they heard from Jabir was from this booklet. Mujahid narrated hadiths from Jabir's booklet.

Jabir ibn Abdullah also dictated hadiths. The narration of Abdullah ibn Muhammed ibn Uqayl regarding the issue is as follows:

"I and Abu Jafar went to Jabir Ibn and wrote hadiths from him on the small tablets we had. According to the statement of Abu Hatim, Sulayman ibn Qays al Yashkuri sat in front of Jabir, learnt from him and wrote a booklet from him."

[backroadtales]

NEW TALE : “EXERCISE”

Elizabeth is walking along the sidewalk, dressed in her casual sweats and running shoes while shielding her eyes with a pair of dark sport sunglasses. She looks both ways and crosses the street. When she gets across to the other side of the street, she makes her way towards a steep stone staircase that leads off the sidewalk and down into a park. The staircase can barely be seen from the street, as trees and bushes have grown heavily in and around it’s entrance. Although the sun shines bright on this day, Elizabeth descends into darkness as she hits the first step and proceeds down the shady narrow stairway. As she eludes the sun under the cover of tall maple and elm trees, her headphones begin to blare a song by her favourite band. With the energy of the song boosting Elizabeth’s heart rate, she enters the park happy and excited. She’s going to enjoy a beautiful sunny day by the river listening to her favourite music, and she even has one half of a marijuana cigarette to enjoy. As she walks along a gravel pathway, she remembers when she first saw her favourite band perform live. Visions of the performance fill her mind as she walks along the river, passing by the odd person while admiring the scenic landscape. Elizabeth remembers her favourite band sounded just as intense live as the on the recorded tracks she frequently downloaded. The singer of the band was so aggressive and passionate in his performance; visions of the singer blasting lyrics into his cordless microphone stick in Elizabeth’s memory. She is enjoying her time walking along the river, which at this point looks to be very shallow, with the many rocks sticking up out of the water acting as rest stops for flocks of seagulls. Ducks and geese also inhabit the river a bit farther downstream. The large park opposite the river is filled with people resting in the open spaces between the large oak trees that seem to be hundreds of years old. While she watches the sun’s rays glisten off the water, Elizabeth enjoys the adrenaline rush her favourite songs gives her. The memory of the singer, who screamed with such passion and fury, is a memory that appears frequently whenever she thinks about this band, or listens to their music. How could this person sing like that night after night, she wonders. She remembers seeing interviews on the internet of this band. When the singer spoke during the interview, he didn’t seem like an angry or dangerous person; he seemed humble and confident, Elizabeth remembers. She ponders about why the singer chose the career path he did. She thinks he may just really enjoy singing in a band; maybe he just got really good, and never quit moving forward with it. She notices how singing seems to be such a positive outlet for this performer in particular; what a great way to filter out all that inner rage, Elizabeth thinks as she continues on with her walk. She finds it to be a good thing, that at least he isn’t exercising all of that inner turmoil with violence.

Hatim is standing outside of a large government building. The buildings entrance consists of tall pillars, and the entire structure itself is made completely out of white-coloured limestone blocks. Though the building is made only of limestone, the dedication and detail put into it’s architecture is sharp and elegant. The city Hatim works and lives in, the one he is currently standing in, sits almost directly in the middle of one of the hottest and most remote deserts on the continent. Although the citizens of this city do not have the access to the resources or technology that most of the other parts of the world have, they pride themselves on being a very social and passionate people. Hatim has to enjoy his cigarette quickly as he notices a group of young men laughing and chatting underneath the shade of a palm tree, which was planted specifically to accompany the front of the government facility. He knows from the way the men are nicely dressed, with their hair gelled and the large envelopes at their sides, that they are gathered here to register for the armed forces; which whom Hatim has served with for 11 years now. Hatim, like all men and woman who grow up in this country, has no choice but to enter service once he has completed secondary school. A full career is not mandatory, but it is encouraged, as soldiers are allowed to leave service once they have completed either five full years, or they become pregnant or permanently injured. Hatim doesn’t love what he does; he loves his daughter and son; he loves his wife. He does not love the service, but he earns well for his family, and he likes to think he is good at what he does. He is not a vengeful person, and finds no joy in killing others, but he is proud that he has the confidence and the knowledge to defend his family if necessary. Hatim gets sick of the rowdiness of the young men under the tree, and tosses the rest of his hand-rolled tobacco cigarette into the dirt. It is time for him to get back to his desk to attend to more new applicant paperwork. He is, after all, the first and final guidance counselor these young men and woman have access to before they are shipped across the desert for basic training.

Hatim, now sitting at his desk, takes the last sip left in his coffee mug, and organizes the young man’s folder he is about to meet. The individuals record tells the story of a person who does not respond well to authority. This young man, named Leith, has been suspended multiple times for skipping class, as well as for getting caught fighting by the police. Leith’s grades also are not impressive, although his scores in art and history are near the top of his graduating class. Hatim ponders for a second about Leith; he seems to be trouble, but there is no doubt he shows signs of being creative and intellectual. Once Hatim welcomes Leith into his office and the two begin to talk, he realizes Leith is not as bad as his record makes him out to be. He converses with Leith quite well, in fact, and Leith seems to have a productive and positive attitude. Hatim’s confidence in him grows stronger the more they interact. Leith starts to discuss his personal life more with Hatim. He knows, like everybody else, that he has no choice but to go into the service, but he makes a point to Hatim that he really enjoys music. Hatim also enjoys music, and their country is known around the world for producing respected and accomplished performers. Leith starts to tell Hatim about how he likes new music. He especially likes new music from the other continent, and he dreams of one day finishing his requirements with the service and moving to the other continent to try to become a performer. Once Hatim’s brain processes what Leith has just said, it is like Hatim’s confidence in Leith drops to the floor like a flower vase crashing on concrete. Hatim knows the type of new age music Leith is talking about. Over-privileged other continent young adults screaming into microphones with horribly distorted instruments in the background, Hatim reminds himself. Hatim despises this kind of music; not just because of they way it sounds to him, but what it represents to him. In his mind, this kind of music represents the over-indulgence and lack of appreciation young people from the other continent suffer from. This kind of music shows a lack of maturity, as well as a lack of respect not only for society, but for life itself. Hatim now has a bad taste in his mouth. He lets Leith ramble on as he stares down at his paperwork. He knows he has invited Leith to speak openly, and he still has some faith left in the soon-to-be soldier, so he chooses not to stop the conversation dead in its tracks. Hatim forces a smile, nods his head, and assures himself that being in the service for a few months would straighten Leith right out. Leith is going to be Ok, and wouldn’t fall into the seductive negativity young people from the other continent indulge in so much, Hatim ponders. The service is what Leith and other citizens like him need, and it is necessary in order for them to survive in life, Hatim thinks. As Leith starts to finish up his opinions regarding the music industry, Hatim takes control of the conversation, moving it back to the subjects he needs to cover for Leith’s basic training. The meeting ends, and Hatim wishes Leith good luck as they shake hands and part ways. After Leith exists the office, Hatim thinks to himself as he watches the young man hurry passed other waiting applicants and out the door of the building. He can’t figure out why someone, who seemingly has a lot of potential, would want to get involved with the music scene over on the other continent. Hatim assumes Leith must have a lot of hostility built up inside of him. Serving a few years across the desert would help with that, Hatim assures himself. There is more tobacco in his desk drawer, he remembers. Time for another cigarette.

Leith rests his ass on a large rock that sticks up from the desert sand just outside the perimeter of the shooting range he is training at. He takes a strong drag off his cigarette and thinks about the meeting he had with Hatim right before his tenure with the service began. He remembers how he opened up to Hatim and expressed his passion for music. Leith didn’t get much of a response from Hatim and he didn’t need one; he could tell by Hatim’s body language that he was not impressed. Leith takes another strong drag from his hand-rolled smoke. He has just entered his fourth month of basic training, and he finds he not only dislikes the service, but also that it is making him feel miserable. He doesn’t get any sleep at night in the barracks, which is paradise compared to the trenches he could be sleeping in during wartime. He has been separated from his friends, and he can only speak to his family through written letter. Leith does not have a passion for warfare like some of his peers; he misses listening to his favourite music and strumming his guitar. The new recruits are constantly being tested mentally and physically, and although he knows he has to be ready when conflict arrives, he is starting to lose his ability to focus. Above everything else, what bothers Leith the most is his emotional state. He feels completely lost, and he is literally just doing what he is told; going through the motions, eating a bit, trying to get some sleep, smoking, and then back to the routine. He knows what he wants, and the service is not it. He wants to explore his creative side and work with like-minded individuals. He wants to be a musician and move to the other continent. He wants to go there and play the same genre of music he grew up enjoying. Leith suffers with these thoughts daily, and as he puts out the last of his cigarette on the rock where his ass rests, he musters all the energy he can to report back to his squad. The sun is starting to disappear into the horizon, and soon it will be time to head to the barracks for the night. Leith wishes he could run home for his mom’s cooking. He wishes he could run home period. He knows what will happen. He will not only go to jail, but he will tarnish his families reputation. It is even possible he might be beaten and outcast from his community. What would he do then? Where would he go? Leith looks off into the distance as he walks his boots in and out of the sand. The other continent is where I would go, Leith thinks to himself. He ponders more about the idea. All the emotions inside of him start to flare up. His chest begins to fill with adrenaline. A tingling excitement rushes through his body. He thinks about how he would get to the other continent from this area in the desert. He ponders where he would stay and how he would contact his family once he got to the other continent. He devises an escape plan to the other continent, because escaping is exactly what he is going to do. Leith hangs his rifle on his right shoulder, and smiles as he looks across the endless landscape. He feels exhilaration as he commits to the idea, but he knows that excitement will soon be replaced by fear.

Leith has not gotten a wink of sleep. He stares at the alarm clock which sits on the floor beside him. In bright red, the numbers read 2:45. The time is 2:45 am; 3:15 am is the time Leith plans to put on his clothes, tie his shoes, and then check to make sure he has his tobacco, lighter, cell phone, and wallet. 3:15 am is the time he plans to escape. He also has to make sure that he has his passport, along with his credit card. He double and triple checked that he had everything before the barrack lights went out that evening. He knows he needs to be quick, but casual at the same time. It is very likely that at this moment another soldier is still awake from lack of sleep, so Leith needs to make it look like he is exiting the barracks to have an early morning cigarette. He knows he can’t take all of his belongings, as it will look like he is trying to escape. He needs to leave as if he will be coming right back. Leith continues to watch his alarm clock. The anticipation continues to rise, as the half hour in which he waits feels like a lifetime. He’s sweating and shivering all at once, fearful of all the possibilities in terms of what can happen if he is caught. He could be chased through the desert; he could be shot by a sniper; he could even get caught while trying to board a plane at the airport. He knows that if he can slip undetected around the side of the barracks, he can make it past the guards manning the gate. New guards arrive to replace the current guards near the end of their shift, which this morning happens to be at 3:30 am. Leith figures he should be able to get around the side of the building by 3:17 am, and if he can wait and not be seen, the new guards should begin to arrive around 3:20 am, which will distract the current guards. While the guards begin procedures to replace each other, Leith has an opportunity to run to the far west side of the camp, get to the barbed-wire fence, and crawl underneath at an area where the soft dirt makes this viable. After he gets outside of the camps perimeter, he will travel alongside a recently closed service road which leads back into the city. Getting to the airport once he enters the city wont be hard, and from there he can arrange himself to be presentable for boarding. All he has to do now is stick to the darkness, and when it is time, run as fast as possible for that fence. Leith now watches as the red number turns from three to four. The time on the clock now reads 3:14 am. He braces himself for the intense experience he is about to endure. He has to be casual, but he has to be fast. One more minute, he thinks to himself as sweat drizzles down his head and onto the sand below. One more minute and I’m free, Leith reminds himself. He looks down at the desert floor, looking at where his last drip of forehead sweat landed; it has created a small dark crater in the sand, and he stares at the small indent, feeling almost like he is lost in a trance. Leith looks back at his clock; the clock reads 3:15 am. He removes the bed sheet covering his body, takes a deep breath, and sits up straight like he never has before. It is time for him to go, and he proceeds to leave the barracks for the last time.

Leith crouches in the dark along the outside of the building that is the barracks. He looks around the corner towards the guart post and see’s four guards. They are socializing and not paying attention to the west side of the lot, which is where Leith has to run through in order to get to the perimeter fence. He managed to get dressed and out of the barracks without incident, and he made sure to pull his cigarettes out of his pocket as he exited the building, just in case anyone curious was watching. He is now waiting in the shadows the tall walls of the barracks have created, analyzing the guards for any unusual behaviour. He doesn’t bother reaching for his cell phone to check the time. The four guards are distracting each other, and it is now his chance to make a move. Leith wishes for God to watch over him, and he takes off running as if someone is trying to kill him. He is running so fast that he worries his feet are making too much noise. The adrenaline rush makes Leith feel as though he is stuck in time, as he races towards the barbed-wire fence. He starts to duck his head as he gets closer to the perimeter. As he gets a few feet from the fence, he drops down on his stomach and crawls the rest of the way. He’s moving quickly, but manages to glance over at the guards, who are still standing around and talking. They have not detected him, and now he is that much closer to escaping. Leith uses both hands to dig rapidly into the dirt, which as he suspected, is light and dry, giving him the ability to clear a big enough hole to fit underneath the fence, before any of the four guards can suspect anything. He digs down far enough into the dirt that there is now a small gap he can fit through, and as he crawls under the fence, he rolls over onto his side and uses his feet to push himself off the fence, and up onto the sand. Leith lays still and watches the entrance gate. He knows he is free, as it is pitch black all around except for one small light sitting atop the gate’s guard house. He turns off his side and onto his back, looking up at the sky. Huge bright stars glisten up above, and all that can be seen in the distance are the far away lights of the city. Leith jumps to his feet and begins running. He runs all the way to the city.

Elizabeth is trying very hard to hear what her friend is saying. It is a Friday night, and her and her friend are downtown at a music venue which is packed with passionate people. The atmosphere is intense, and anticipation fills the air as patrons wait for the first act to take stage. There is no personal space left in the venue as Elizabeth and her friend rest their elbows on a small strip of the bar. She can barely hear what her friend is trying to say; she thinks her friend is describing who the first act is, but she only catches a few words. Just as Elizabeth finishes her rum and coke, she hears people all around her start to cheer. A man has walked onto the brightly lit stage, which sits about four feet above the sticky black floor. Another man enters onto the stage; and then another. Everyone in the room is now cheering loudly, as every instrument on the stage seems to be accompanied by a band member; except the microphone. Suddenly all the lights in the venue go out. Only the red letters from the exit signs can be seen in the dark. Everyone in the crowd is cheering loudly and starting to occupy the front of the stage. A guitar begins a slow riff, almost mimicking the sound off a strong wind hitting against chimes. A slow but intense drum beat infiltrates the minds of the spectators and begins to engage the tension in the air. Another guitar enters in with loud but compact strumming, muting the strings the best he can in an attempt to limit the high distortion coming from the amplifiers. White, blue, and purple lights begins to flicker down onto the performers through the darkness. The band members can seen playing their instruments every time the lights bounce off the stage. Elizabeth and her friend turn to each other, neither having to say a word. Her friend quickly finishes the rest of her beer, and they proceed through the crowd to the front of the stage. A real effort is needed in order for them to push through this fully loaded crowd, but within a minute they have planted themselves on the east side of the stage. Elizabeth and her friend add to the audiences loud cheers, as stronger lighting begins to brighten up the stage. Elizabeth is looking westward at the bass player hammering on his instrument, when suddenly she gets the feeling someone is standing right above her. She looks over and see’s a pair of what look like military-style work boots. These boots are attached to someone standing up on the stage. Elizabeth looks up, and is met with the singers wide eyes and large smile. The singer looks over into the crowd, grips the microphone, and beings to yell. Elizabeth is in awe, but what she and the other cheering spectators don’t know, is that the singer is a man from the other continent. The singer is a man named Leith.

[temporaryexpert-nyu]

more plant research rants and the tragedy of the cucumbers 

Diving in the research produced more questions than answers, but it also made me think about the structure of the field guide in ways I hadn’t previously. 

There are a lot. 62 not including the grass, most of these are on the highline. There are six types of grass. How do I cull this down, or decide whats important? Even the ones that seem like overgrown weeds have really interesting properties. I color coded the plants that are on the planting schedule, and the ones that aren’t highlighted are mostly just ornamental, but does ‘ornamental’ mean = not relevant to the field guide? 

I can identify now most of these plants, and where they are on the highline, but some are missing (the tragic tale of the cucumbers, for example) 

It’s interesting to see how many of these are not native. When I was talking to Amani, she mentioned some research students had done a few years ago about how the non-native plants on campus are doing. Would looking into that be a waste of my time?

Also when talking to Amani, we discussed they ‘why’ of the field guide. I explained that I needed to answer the question of WHY I thought it was important for students to be able to identify and connect with the greenery on campus. (I guess we are drummed with the whole ‘nature= good, technology = evil’ so much that we don’t really question it). She suggested scholarly research into the effect of plants/nature on humans, in particular students. Is that a good answer to ‘why’? What about the link between connecting to the environment = caring for it = more eco-conscious students? 

LOOK! AT ! THESE! COOL PLANTS! Edible! Medicinal! WAR PLANTS!!! The desert rose is g o r g e o u s but it’s sap is used as arrow poison for hunting game throughout Sub Saharan Africa and as a fish toxin (according to wikipedia, but I have to do more research on where and who exactly did this). Not only is it toxic to humans, ingesting even the flower is fatal to dogs. There are so many dogs on this campus!! 

On the note of poisonous plants, we have quite a few that are at least toxic or irritants. What would happen if college students, who as a group are not known for making the most intelligent of decisions, knew this? Should this information be shared as a warning or hidden to protect them?  If my field guide starts calling attention to these plants, I don’t know whether thats a good thing or a bad thing.  I’m of the mind that people should be aware of the dangers around them so they can make more informed decisions on what they do/choose to put in their mouth. Then again, no one has yet died of eating a yellow oleander flower.

Everyone who sees my highlighted planting schedule seems really interested in it, and pleasantly surprised at things such as the pomegranate and mysterious cucumber plants. I’m glad my geeky interest is not exclusive to me alone.

The neem trees in front of D1 lack sunlight and are not thriving, according to Iqbal. Is this relevant? 

The cucumbers are nowhere to be found, although I’ve made many, many trips around the highline on the lookout for them.  I asked on the NYUAD student facebook page, but I got nothing but wow reacts and a characteristically snarky comment from Hatim: 

UGHHHH

[hatimnasser-blog]

Hello,

I want introduce myself, my name is Hatim. I have the bachelor's degree in agriculture engineering, so that means I love the natural and animals especially horses. Until now, I remember the first gift from my father it was the black horse when I was 7 years.

I came to the U.S to study English and I like to make new friends who are from other countries. I have a lot of friends like me international students, also I have American friends, so after what I told you, what do you think I am friendly or not?

If you are interested at animals or cooking that means, we share the same interests and hobbies. Let’s try to find who is the professional in cooking, I or you. Do not ask my about sport because I don’t like it. On the other hand, I like the exercise. I make some friends in the gym.

Before the end, I am crazy about traveling. I like to share some places such as Los Anglos and Las Vegas, they are amazing city if like to go there tell my and I will suggest some places to visit it.

In the end, I am sorry to talked a lot about myself but my teacher, she wants me write 200 words the minimum, so I got it.