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thebestsandiever · 3 years ago

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Regarding the chaos and aftermath of the Verstappen crash at the 2021 British GP

Before I begin, this is solely my own thoughts on the crash and aftermath of it, resources and intel being from various news reports, articles, interviews, social media reactions/on track fans reactions, commentators, careers etc. Also important, this post was made around 11 PM CEST, so other news after that or in the midst of this, I haven’t considered.

Comments and discussions are welcome, though remember to keep the tone guys. I rarely comment on anything on Tumblr, but looking at this chaos, I felt like sharing a bit.

Starting on the incident that happened, I don’t believe that I can clearly decide what happened and who caused, and the only comments I have is that I believe it was a racing incident that has no bad intention. We hear in conclusion from sources (there was an after analysis) (e.g. also Lewis’ Sky Sports interview) that both could have given each other space. Lewis trying to get in, and Max defending his position. People who think Lewis did it intentionally clearly have no common sense, no one wants Max to end up going to the hospital (but he is fine so no worries). Of course, nothing excuses that a crash happened, and it’s a big shame.

All the hate Lewis is getting should tone down, I think it’s fair to be critical in perspective of racing which consists of the crash and his comments regarding it, but anything that comments on something other than that with negativity, shouldn’t be.

Something that many F1 fans have brought up and Horner I believe (slightly) is Lewis 15+ years of experience in Formula one and numerous of championships. Which I think in any sport or topic isn’t a fair argument, because mistakes happen to anyone, no one is immune to that, though this is not me calling the crash a mistake, because I don’t believe that is the right word. It’s more Lewis knowing the danger of closing in and Max of course defending himself on track, and this is the end result. And if anyone was a viewer of the Euro 2020 Football Cup Finals, it’s a bit like the Southgate criticism on the penalties.

This also applies to all the fans who bring up Max’ aggressive and old nickname “crashstappen” from his early F1 career. Whether you have your impression from Netflix’ Drive to Survive or the fact that you’re new, anyone will agree that Max has matured greatly both on and off track, in my opinion one of the calmest drivers on the grid considering the amount of criticism, hate and burden that he gets/has. The fact is that there have been some people on Twitter (when I now and later comment on fans and reactions, it’s usually the very chaotic Twitter), that mentions Verstappen’s past, the infamous Baku and this season’s races where Lewis is the one who, in their words, “has backed up and gave space” (the reason I say their words is because I can’t quite remember so I won’t say that I know for sure). But again, as I mentioned, this is not valid, because it doesn’t excuse what happened today. Every track is a title fight, and previous races and tactics doesn’t apply to this. What I mean is that because Lewis gave space previous races, does it mean that Verstappen should crash? Or worded differently, because Max didn’t give space like he has previous times, that “it was coming” or that he should crash? Biggest takeaway from this is that past and future shouldn’t mean more than what happened in the present. This leading me on to a bit of the hate Max got which I think was quite undeserving, especially under his circumstances, which is f1 fans (mostly Twitter) calling it “karma” and using his young past to somehow “justify” the crash.

Also I really disliked the videos of “British fans” (we can’t actually determine that all were British, but it was home track) cheering when the crash happened, but in general I think cheering on a crash will always be awful even if you’re favourite driver gains position. Gladly though, it quickly died down on the stands as they realized it was hard impact. Very Euro 2020 vibes, though a much better English crowd- Just kidding, maybe you can see I’m not happy when any kind of fans act out of order (also I don’t hate English football fans, but sadly, the ones who make stupid actions overshadow the rest).

Now I also want to comment a bit on the drivers and teams’ comments and the PR.

So regarding Max’ social media post about the race. I honestly think it’s fair for him to be upset, no one wants to be taken out on the first lap considering that he is leading while a VERY good and competitive Lewis is trailing behind. My first reaction was that it was quite an aggressive post and the part about him unfollowing Lewis (if that is correct, I haven’t seen it myself yet) was obviously implying that he isn’t happy. Though, emotions run high as well does Lewis’ celebration reaction. I know his mind is to win on track and he has always been outspoken about that fact. Also I don’t quite believe that Max’ comments were full heartedly himself, but the PR team considering he’s just been at the hospital. I’m not happy with his post at all, but I understand both from a PR perspective and a driver’s. I believe almost any driver on the track would have said something like that in an interview if it happened to them. This just happened to be online because of health circumstances.

Regarding Marko and Horner, I must disagree with their aggressiveness or at least the way they decide to comment on it. I do understand the anger, considering the championship but also concern for Max (anyone who knows their relationship knows that they care about him.) Again, I have to say emotions run high and if anything, managers are good at, and this is not specifically only attacking Horner, but it’s stirring up tension. I would say it’s fair for him to say, and quite expected, not saying I think it’s fair for Lewis to receive though (hopefully you get what I mean).

Commenting a bit on Lewis’ Sky Sports F1 interview, we can confirm he didn’t know about Max going to the hospital before celebrating. Anyone who wins has the right to celebrate, especially at home, so props for his win, though unfortunately through a crash (this meaning Verstappen was his biggest threat on track). Though I wasn’t pleased about the commenting on Max. This leads further into the interview.

We get Lewis’ insight on the incident and where he sees Max as the aggressive one, both not giving each other space and having the crash as end result. So in conclusion, Max trying to defend his position and Lewis trying to get in, fair. Please watch the interview, because it clears up a lot of what is spoken about in the media.

My thoughts on Lewis’ response both before and after hearing about Max going to the hospital in the Sky Sports interview, is that he probably could’ve/should’ve toned down on Max being the aggressor, as they were both considering what the crash led to, and him saying that it was just about who was going to give space until it was too late. It kind of goes against what he just said. But I do agree that Lewis has the right to celebrate because he simply won. I also liked that he had championship spirit saying that considering what happened, it didn’t take the shine away from his win. It may sound disrespectful, and I do still kind of think it is, but on the other side, it’s him being competitive, and both drivers have each other’s respect on being able to fight on track. So he’s got the spirit, just maybe not the right interview to show the most competitive spirit (I think the most competitive spirit/response he’s shown this 2021 season)

A bit more on his spirit and fighting on track is seen from Lawrence Barreto who tells us that Lewis has the “game on” spirit and is ready for attacks on track but there needs to be respect on track “and if not this will happen more often I guess.” - Lewis. Just a bit more closure from another source, I like that he is more responsive, but this does make it sound like he blames Max for it. I think any driver who are up against each other have the right or it makes sense to give the majority of the blame to the other, they have their own rear mirrors (see it from their own perspective when they drive, quite literally), but it isn’t the best comment to be honest. Since he says himself, both could’ve given space.

My biggest disagreement that I must mention is the penalty Lewis got, which was the 10 second penalty. Assessing the severity of the crash with high speed, 51G impact, first lap etc. I think the penalty didn’t really serve much of a penalty, but this is also me being critical of the penalty system. These 10 second penalties don’t really make you lose that much of position (depends on car), also this is not a blow at Lewis but just the system. Afterwards, he was also given 2 penalty points. I think compared to someone like Yuki who also got 2 penalty points for crossing the white line twice while entering the pits and George yesterday at the Sprint Race (1 penalty point + 3 place grid penalty) are quite different but looking at the number, there isn’t a big difference in what’s given. But all of this penalty talk is on the stewards and system, so nothing against Lewis and he did take his penalty that was given.

I did not comment much on the actual incident as I have a hard time really deciding (I can admit I see Lewis unintentionally drift a bit in + this being a very fast turn, I believe just a misjudgment but so many fans think it was intentional), so therefore do read and watch the current and coming interviews and articles to get some racing perspective. It keeps updating and even drivers like Riccardo, Leclerc, Alonso etc. have given their comments, and who better to listen to than professionals themselves. So I encourage you to get perspective there, because I know not all of us are the most technical fans, and we tend to comment by being led through a bias and crowd.

But if we’re feeling a bit tired from today, so far the drivers are leaning towards a racing incident. They speak of it as quite unclear to determine, basically saying that both drivers could’ve done and were doing something --> could’ve given space.

We all have to remember this situation is a big deal since it’s the only two to be fair at the moment, who are competing for the championship. Both mad talented and on each other every track. Media blows it out more than them and before we know it, they’re back to what they do best, which is drive.

Heart goes out to Max, it was quite an impact and if not his worst crash so far in his career. His team radio was quite scary to listen to, I’ve never heard him so shook, but he is doing quite fine at the moment, and he will hopefully recover well enough for the next race.

As well for Lewis, emotions are running high and people are quick to assume and accuse without using common sense that Lewis wouldn’t endanger Max or himself. He has every right to celebrate a win and props for him winning.

In conclusion to those who has taken the time to read, don’t let my thoughts be any decider, but more so a way to understand and be a bit more open minded. We are all subjective in the end and I try to see from both perspectives and to be critical as well, not being led by others’ opinions. I’ve stated my sources, and this is only my overall thoughts at the very moment, so remember, as drivers evolve and move on, we do too.

I again encourage you to watch and research with an open mind so not being led on bias, especially if you’re willing to spread anything on the topic. It serves a greater outcome than sprouting from emotions and lack of information, as we have well seen from this sport. Because media does influence and we as an audience is a part of it. So I must remind again, that this is simply my thoughts.

#f1 #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #british gp 2021 #formula 1 #red bull racing #mercedes #verstappen #hamilton #be open minded

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elitegymnastics · 4 years ago

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Q: What is this?

A: It’s a flyer for a virtual fundraiser on June 4th that Elite Gymnastics is playing. You can access the show at quietyear.com

Q: Hasn’t Elite Gymnastics been inactive for like, ten years?

A: Yes. This is the first Elite Gymnastics performance of any kind since November 30th 2012, at the Horn Gallery at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio.

Q: Why did Elite Gymnastics stop playing shows?

A: Elite Gymnastics started out as me (Jaime) and a bunch of my friends agreeing to help me play my songs live back in 2009. I made a lot of weird demos in GarageBand and my friend Dominique Davis from the band Dearling Physique got tired of watching me sit on them. So, he booked me to play at a show he was curating as part of a small local music and arts festival called Clapperclaw. For several months that’s mainly what EG was. At some point the focus shifted to making recordings rather than playing shows, to participate in the emergent culture of new music distributed via MP3 file-sharing. The lineup winnowed to just me and Josh Clancy, who began creating digital EPs that we posted on this Tumblr page as ZIP files full of MP3s accompanied by a PDF of artwork. This is the incarnation of the group that most people are familiar with.

This was before Patreon existed. If Bandcamp was around, we’d never heard of it. Though MP3 file-sharing culture and file transfer sites like MediaFire and MegaUpload allowed anyone to distribute music freely across the world via the internet, it was still pretty difficult to get people to pay you for it. I think it was for this reason that a lot of internet music back then featured a lot of sampling. A lot of artists’ first forays into the world of DAWs and production took the form of mash-ups, bootleg remixes, and DJ mixes. Artists like Animal Collective, MIA, Kanye West, and Daft Punk for whom sampling was a pillar of their creative process were extremely influential. Elite Gymnastics was no exception - the first song of ours to gain traction online was “Is This On Me?” which made no attempt to hide the fact that it heavily sampled Faye Wong’s “Eyes On Me.” The fact that it was so difficult to make money off MP3s pushed people to make different creative decisions than they would have otherwise. It was sort of a free-for-all.

Eventually, all of this started to change. The major labels started getting a lot more aggressive about trying to destroy MP3 file-sharing culture. Platforms like MegaUpload were raided and taken offline. The replacements that sprung up to replace them were increasingly infested with ads and malware. Corporate platforms like YouTube and SoundCloud adopted Content ID filters to prevent the proliferation of copyrighted music there. Blogs and private torrent trackers being taken down meant thousands of hours of labor were wiped out in an instant. Some of the best archives of the history of recorded music ever created were destroyed without hesitation. Even the most devoted participants lost the will to keep repairing and re-making the stuff that cops and record companies kept obliterating.

Josh and I both dreamed of being able to make a living as musicians. We still do. Back then, we were willing to accept a lot of changes in order to make that possible, which seemed necessary. A lot of the stuff that we were great at just didn’t make any money. Once, we were asked to do a remix of a song called “Sa Sa Samoa” by the band Korallreven. I did the remix by myself, which was normal for us, and Josh was so inspired by it that he spent a week working non-stop to create a video for it. People loved it - the day the video dropped, Pitchfork designated the song as a “Best New Track” and New York Magazine wrote about it in their “Approval Matrix.” The video led to a ton of exposure, but from a financial perspective, it just did not make sense to put that much effort into promoting a remix of someone else’s song. The stuff we were personally excited by just seemed to have less and less to do with what actually makes money.

A lot of internet bands during this era began to palpably shapeshift in an effort to succeed in music as a career. Artists who’d first attracted notice for sample-based bangers they made on a laptop started posing with vintage hardware in their press photos and trading in their laptops for live bands and recording studios. It became harder to distribute DJ mixes or mash-ups that contained copyrighted music in them. Influential bloggers either closed up shop or were absorbed into the traditional music industry in some way. Feeds that once touted bizarre songs by laptop-toting weirdos with no industry connections started to become populated mostly by artists with labels and publicists. The bottom rungs of festival lineups started to consist mostly of new major label signings who have lots of money to spend on stage production but not much in the way of grassroots fan enthusiasm or media buzz.

Internet music and what people tend to refer to as “indie music” split off into two separate streams. Today, there’s a pretty intense firewall between internet culture and whatever you want to call the culture of vinyl records, mid-sized indie labels with publicists, and positive reviews from the few remaining websites that still pay people to write about music. I call it “publicist indie,” “lifestyle techno,” or “prestige electronica” depending on whether or not the music features guitars and/or vocals. The recent online kerfuffle about NFTs really emphasized this split. The worlds of digital illustration and game development campaigned aggressively against mass adoption of cryptocurrency - if you saw any Medium posts explaining crypto’s environmental issues, chances are they were written by someone from those fields. Every new announcement by an artist that they had minted an NFT was met with a swift and vocal backlash from fans. Though I’ve never really been much of an Aphex Twin fan, it was still pretty startling to look at the replies under his NFT announcement tweet and see hundreds of furious people announcing that he was now dead to them. That’s an artist who has seemed more or less unimpeachable for most of my life up until this point! All of that seemed to change in an instant.

There is a massive disconnect between the insular world of the industry establishment and the cutting edge of online counterculture. We saw this again a couple of weeks ago with the online response to the crisis in Gaza. We saw passionate advocacy for Palestinians from games journalists and developers much more often than we saw it from musicians. This is a very serious problem for music! I do not believe it is possible to please both sides - that is to say, I do not believe it is possible to be part of internet counterculture and the industry establishment simultaneously. The music industry is too conservative, too compromised, too corrupt. If it weren’t for the ocean of valuable copyrights that labels are sitting on, most of them would be bankrupt within a year. If the industry was forced to live or die based on how they handle what’s happening right now in the present, it would most assuredly die. The only people who don’t realize this are those who are being paid to stay ignorant.

Josh and I did not know this back then. From where we were standing, it looked like internet culture and established media industries were on track to converge. A career in the arts seemed genuinely, tantalizingly possible, right up until the moment that it no longer did.

In my case, I had really been struggling up until that point. My life had been this ongoing sequence of evictions and hospitalizations, and it seemed to be getting worse, not better. I donated plasma twice a week to pay for groceries and while I was sitting there with a giant needle stuck in my left arm for an hour I would see my picture in The Fader or my songs being recommended by one of the Kings of Leon on Twitter or whatever. Music seemed like the only thing the world thought I was any good at. It felt like my only chance at a peaceful, happy life was somewhere out there in a world I could only perceive through a laptop screen.

Gender, for me, was a big factor in all of this. The more invested in the craft of songwriting I became, the harder it was to repress or ignore my gender stuff. At that time I’m not sure I even knew what the word “transgender” meant - I just knew that when I showed up at a venue wearing a skirt, no one would talk to me or look me in the eye, and that reading about people like Anohni or Terre Thaemlitz or on the internet made me feel like if I could get out of Minneapolis maybe I could find a place where people would accept me. The internet was like, a pretty toxic place for someone in my position. When I tried to find people to talk to about what I was feeling, nobody tried to tell me to read Judith Butler or ask me what pronouns I preferred. The internet was just like, overrun with predators who just wanted to fetishize me and exploit me. Music seemed like the only way I’d ever have an actual life as myself. I was desperate for that. I was well and truly desperate.

Between all the big changes that were happening to us individually and the music industry moving farther and farther away of the anarchic free-for-all of MP3 file-sharing culture, the strain on us just got to be too much. We stopped trusting each other. We became the unstoppable force and the immovable object, crashing haphazardly against one another’s resolve in a dazzling display of youthful futility. Our partnership ended, and after finishing out the remaining live shows on the calendar by myself, I retired the name “Elite Gymnastics” and started making music on my own under other names. That was that.

Q: Why is Elite Gymnastics coming back now, then?

A: Over the years, Josh and I eventually started talking again. Though there was a lot we did agree on, and potential future projects were discussed, nothing truly felt right. We haven’t been in the same room since Summer 2012, and we’ve both changed a lot since then. We both have other projects and we’ve both developed other ways of working since we stopped working together. It’s a pretty big commitment to put all of that aside in order to join your fortunes together with someone you haven’t seen in a decade.

Recently, Josh decided to leave Elite Gymnastics. His reasons are his own, and I was very surprised by his decision, but after having had time to adjust, I’m really grateful to him. I had kept these songs at a distance for many years, because it seemed foolish to allow myself to get too attached to songs I didn’t feel like I was allowed to think of as mine, if that makes any sense. The songs felt like casualties of a conflict that I had to bury in the ground and try to forget about. Being able to embrace them again felt like re-growing a severed limb or having a loved one come back to life, almost. Feeling like it was safe to love these songs again made me feel whole in a way I didn’t expect to. I became really excited by the prospect of revisiting them, so that’s what I decided to do.

Q: Does this mean you’re going to put RUIN back on Spotify?

A: No. Taking the record off Spotify was the right thing to do. That record was only ever intended to exist during the era of MP3 piracy. I never envisioned a world where the music industry would be so aggressive about policing the way that copyrighted music is allowed to exist online. If we hadn’t opted to take the record down when we did, someone would inevitably have forced us to. If you want to hear those specific recordings again, you’re going to have to do it the way we originally intended: by downloading MP3 files from the internet. Try SoulSeek.

Q: What’s next for Elite Gymnastics, then?

A: Here’s the situation currently. There is no Elite Gymnastics music available to stream or purchase in an official capacity anywhere on the internet. It wouldn’t really be possible for me to put the old stuff on Spotify or Bandcamp now because of all the samples. Like I said before, it was a different time. Those records were created to thrive on a past version of the internet that no longer exists. They weren’t designed to be compatible with the 2021 internet.

Technically, Elite Gymnastics didn’t ever release a debut album. We had EPs, a compilation, and a remix collection. We didn’t make an album, a record that existed as the distillation of all that experimentation that contained all of the songs that fans of the EPs would want to hear, all in one place. It’s like we did Good Fridays but stopped before we made My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

So, I am currently working on the first Elite Gymnastics album. If you were following my stuff as Default Genders, you may have noticed me posting demos on my SoundCloud page from 2015-2018 that were all eventually reworked into the album Main Pop Girl 2019. The album I am making is taking that approach to all the old EG songs, including some unreleased stuff. I’m collaborating with others on some songs and I honestly feel like it has resulted in some of the best and most exciting music I have ever been involved with. It is a drastic reinvention, but iteration and reinvention have always been a big part of what I do. I want to make something that feels like the culmination of everything that came before, and so far, I think I’m succeeding.

Q: When will I be able to hear this new music?

At a virtual fundraiser on June 4th, 2021, where there is a suggested donation of $10. You can access it at quietyear.com

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taryntothistaylor · 6 years ago

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FROM ‘Why she disappeared’ (WHY TAYLOR DISAPPEARED From Big Machine Records)

When she fell, she fell apart (when she found out Scott wouldn’t give Taylor her masters unless she made one album for each one)

Cracked her bones on the pavement she once decorated as a child with side walk chalk (her innocence and happiness of agreeing to the recording deal with Scott when she was a “child”)

When she crashed, her clothes disintegrated and blew away with the winds that took all of her fair weathered friends (She knew that once the news came out that once again her reputation would be smeared by the media. “Clothes disintegrated” i.e. naked symbolizing “uncovered, stripped bare, vulnerable” by the news that Scott did this to her, Scott also being the “fair weathered friend”.

When she looked around, her skin was spattered with ink forming the words of a thousand voices

Echoes she heard even in her sleep:

"Whatever you say, it is not right." (Scott released a statement on Instagram saying what the “truth was” even though Taylor had already stated on her tumblr post what really happened. Also other examples such as Taylor wanted to name Speak Now Enchanted but was told not to by Scott.)

"Whatever you do, it is not enough." (Taylor made Scott famous and is the biggest artist under Big Machine Records but he never gave her the opportunity of buying her masters back, he was manipulative in making her make one album to get one album back. Over TEN YEARS) Demi Lovato seems to think Taylor can’t do enough either even though she was the first one to send flowers to her when she was in rehab, spoke up about the election, went to trial for sexual assault and gave money to sexual assault non profits, the list goes on. Not going to get started on Beiber or Kimye

"Your kindness is fake." (His kindness to Taylor was fake over all these years, all the smiles in the photos. Fake. And her smiles throughout the years with him, were they fake? And well, obvs the media again)

"Your pain is manipulative." (The media, AGAIN)

When she lay there on the ground, She dreamed of time machines and revenge (Taylor dreamed of going back in time and changing her contract with BMR, dreamed of revenge from Scooters clients who have bullied her over the years but would never do it because it’s Taylor. I think the fact “machine” is in here really signifies it. Also from Taylor: “Any time Scott Borchetta has heard the words ‘Scooter Braun’ escape my lips, it was when I was either crying or trying not to," Swift writes. "He knew what he was doing; they both did. Controlling a woman who didn’t want to be associated with them. In perpetuity. That means forever.”)

and a love that was really something, Not just the idea of something (“I’m ecstatic to announce that my musical home will be Republic Records and Universal Music Group.... be my FAMILY moving forward. It’s also also incredibly exciting to know that I’ll own all of my master recordings that I make from now on. Not just the fake “family”’ with Big Machine)

When she finally rose, she rose slowly, Avoiding old haunts and sidestepping shiny pennies, Wary of phone calls and promises, Charmers, dandies and get-love-quick-schemes (When making her decision to leave BMR, it wasn’t made hastily, it was made over a long time. "I walked away because I knew once I signed that contract, Scott Borchetta would sell the label, thereby selling me and my future. I had to make the excruciating choice to leave behind my past.” Wary of phone calls - well we all know why.)

When she stood, she stood with a desolate knowingness, Waded out into the dark, wild ocean up to her neck, Bathed in her brokenness, Said a prayer of gratitude for each chink in the armor, she never knew she needed, Standing broad-shouldered next to her, was a love that was really something,not just the idea of something. (After the decision to move to Republic Records and Universal Music Group, she knew she would be vunerable to whatever Scott Borchetta would do but was blessed with her family and her unforeseeable factor - her fans who would defend her against everything. Waded out into to the wild dark ocean is like walking through rainstorms as Taylor says, it gets you clean. Clean from what I imagine was the awfulness of having to try bargain over your own work from someone you thought you trusted since you were 14. From Taylor “music I wrote on my bedroom floor and videos I dreamed up and paid for from the money I earned playing in bars, then clubs, then arenas, then stadiums.”

When she turned to go home, She heard the echoes of new words, "May your heart remain breakable but never by the same hand twice" (when deciding on a new label, Taylor knew her new home would be one that believed in artists and would let her own the art she created. She would never make the same mistake again)

And even louder: "without your past, you could never have arrived-so wondrously and brutally, by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance ...here." (Taylor is incredibly proud of her old work and this whole ordeal has shaped her into the strong woman she is)

And in the death of her reputation. (After reputation, Taylor knew she would be changing labels and thus losing her masters, so in the “death of old Taylor, New Taylor would own everything going forward)

She felt truly alive.

Taylor you’re my superhero and I love you ❤️

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nd-bumble-bee · 6 years ago

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Some Thoughts About Antisepticeye:

I really like puzzles, mystery solving, & storytelling. I have no idea if anyone else has made these connections or publicly stated them. But I also might have an overactive imagination, which got me to start going down this rabbit hole.

So when I think back to Seán saying that nobody has really figured out who or what Anti is, I got curious. Eventually (today-ish), my brain decided to take that as a challenge.

This may be a bit lengthy, so if you plan to read all of this: Buckle up, buttercups!

Now, I'm not usually one to try & actively theorize about this kind of stuff. But I love learning about lore & psychology! One thing I know is that there are a bunch of people in Seán's community who love to come up with theories about the egos, especially Anti (& I totally understand why, since Seán & Robin are pretty damn good at storytelling). One common thing that pops up is the idea that Anti is a glitch (bitch) or a demon. Or both. But because of what Seán said, either those ideas are incorrect or they’re not specific enough & we need to dig deeper. Like, much deeper.

One thing that caught my attention was a post on Tumblr (I included the link to it so it can be properly credited) that talked about the 1st time we actually see Anti's full body (the HTC Cubicle video) & how he 1st took over Jack's body VS. how he is able to do that now. But that's not the 1st time we see Anti or any hints of him at all! I looked into this by watching an edit someone made with (almost?) all of his appearances from the beginning of the channel up until the Bio Inc. Redemption video in 2017 (you can find this collection here). Obviously, Anti has made more appearances afterward, but I focused more on the early days for this as well as some of the more recent things Seán talked about regarding PMA & his mental health.

While I have met Seán in person (& can confirm that he gives amazing hugs!), I'm in no way involved in his personal life. So I could be wrong about some of the thoughts I have moving forward. I'm basically going by what I've seen & heard from videos, live shows, pannels, etc. & taking guesses based on that information & what I know about building/creating a character (I've done interactive theatre in different settings where I had almost total creative freedom in that with some guidance & training). I also can’t speak for Seán because...I’m not him.

I wouldn't doubt if any of Seán's egos came from very personal places, maybe some of them were made because of some silly idea that he decided to run with & build on. But Anti was possibly from a very personal place in Seán's mind (especially if this was one of the 1st egos he created).

And this lead to a thought that crossed my mind & started this whole dive into the rabbit hole:

What if Anti is a "glitch" in Seán's mental system?

Okay, hear me out on this:

We know there was a period of time where a bunch of YouTubers (including Seán) were creating evil versions/counterparts of themselves. I can't say how much thought was put into all of them (because again, I’m not them), but I don't doubt Seán thought this through A LOT because he's pretty damn methodical about what he chooses to show us (the audience). Meanwhile, Anti is chaotic, much harder to predict (especially because he's been much more careful about showing himself lately), & loves to fuck with everyone. But what about the character creation aspect of this? Where did Seán pull this character from?

My guess is that Anti is an embodiment of some of Jack's darker thoughts & feelings if they were more exaggerated or taken into a much darker, more sinister direction. Seán has talked somewhat openly about being depressed, sad, & lonely (particularly when he started making YouTube content). He has also talked about his fear of letting us down/failing us as a content creator, feeling that what he puts out there needs to be perfect, & the anxiety that causes him to feel sometimes. Just because the Seán/Jack we all know & love is kind, caring, & wouldn't want to harm anyone, doesn't mean he has never experienced some dark, scary thoughts. Especially if he's not kidding about having ADD or experiencing OCD-like symptoms (I'm only grabbing this from anytime he has says his "OCD kicks in" or talks about his "ADD" brain, I'm giving the benefit of the doubt that there's at least some truth to this). One thing I can say from personal experience is that when your brain is a hot mess & you have been through some shit (even if it’s just emotionally), it's hard to not have some dark & scary thoughts, which is why we try not to be alone with them.

And then there's Seán's interest in video games & computers. When you find a glitch in a game or software, it may or may not cause problems down the road (some of them are actually pretty funny & harmless!) depending on what happens next. You know what else runs on tiny pulses of electricity & some form of "wiring"?

Your brain!

In Jack's case: Those times when he was having negative feelings & thoughts could have opened a gateway for his "glitch/virus" (Anti) to work his way into Seán's brain wiring. You could go as far as to say that Anti is trying to crash the whole damn system! Trying to delete the "Seán/Jack" software & claim it for himself.

At 1st, Anti thought the easiest way to do that was to kill Jack (which he has tried at least twice now). But what if Anti realized at some point that if he was actually successful in killing him, there would be no "system" to take over because it would permanently shut down? And Anti may not have much interest in claiming a damaged body if there's a possibility he can keep it in the best condition possible.

So like anyone creating a computer virus or hacking into a system would do: Anti had to adapt & try a different approach. This could explain why when he last spoke to us (& anytime we see him afterwards), there was no throat slit or any injury to Jack’s body. Because Anti doesn't need to physically kill Seán. He needs to kill him mentally/emotionally! Which is slower, harder to pick up on, & potentially more effective in the long run because it builds up over time.

And being the glitch (bitch) that he is, Anti is slowly feeding off of Seán's doubts, fears, insecurities, etc. to become stronger than ever. Anti is slowly integrating his "code" in small fragments that are harder to find as deep & scattered as possible so then when they finally are able to fully connect & Seán is manipulated into the right mindset, Anti can hit the kill switch. And once he does that...it's hard to say what happens next.

We already know that Anti is able to physically project himself into our world. He actually may be doing exactly that or "hacking" into the other egos, manipulating his "puppets" (JJ; working on Chase; maybe Marvin?) in order to eventually get Jack to where he needs him to be mentally & emotionally in order to go for the "kill."

This could be where the events of the “Mayhem” videos come into play. Since Anti probably has JJ under his control already, Chase would obviously be the next best place to start. Chase’s state of mind is exactly what Anti is looking for & he knows exactly what buttons to push to use Chase however he wants to.

I’m not exactly sure how the “time is broken” concept plays into this yet (I honestly haven’t thought about that until later on as I finish writing this). Seán did mention that he’s really into sci-fi, space, things like that. I wouldn’t be surprised if Anti’s appearances in the Observance videos are adding on to what has already been building. Maybe the egos are all fragments of how Seán might exist in alternate universes? Or how he imagines he would?

But I mostly focused on the early stuff because if we want to know (or continue guessing) who or what Anti truly is...it’s probably better to start from the very beginning.

As awesome as it would be to hit the nail on the head with this: I also understand that I might be completely wrong or going in the way off into the wrong direction with this. Hell, I probably dug WAAAYYY too deep for this one. But I didn’t want to let this fester (especially if I end up being right!) in my brain & I’m curious what others might think about this. And hey, it’s JUST a theory. A GAME Theory! An Ego Theory!

If you actually read through this all of this: Thank you! I really appreciate it!

And now, my brain is off to go hyperfocus on something else...

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye ego theory #antisepticeye theory

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saleintothe90s · 5 years ago

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400. My favorite highlights from the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade (1980s, 1990s)

In 1982, Olive Oyl became the first human female balloon at the Macy’s parade. However, by 1985, she was left out of the parade due to her height + the bad weather that day:

Olive Oyl was redesigned for her final parade in 1986, but it was too late, she was just too tall:

(also note that her elbow is missing)

However, I found a clip of her at a parade in Philadelphia in 1989! Being her dangerous self. (blog entry about this parade here)

In 1983, Mickey Mouse died, and I am loving the drama associated with it. I looked up what the Mickey balloon looked like back then, and he looked like a knockoff of Mickey. Bobo Mickey.

I watched parts of the 1983 parade on YouTube, and you know who is in it?

Cats.

(at 36:59) Oh my god. The original broadway cast with Betty Buckley playing Grizabella, and Marlene Danielle is there, playing Demeter!

There was also a cat hanging out of the window at Macys! I can’t tell which one this is.

Bryant Gumbel from Today hosted this year, and you can totally tell that he is miserable. That’s something I’ve learned to like about him since starting this blog several years ago. He never hides how miserable he is. (I mean ... the memo) Rewind the cats performance, listen to him read the lyrics to Grizabella the Glamour Cat. He is gone.

Alvin & the Chipmunks sang “tomorrow’ from Annie? There’s a part where these voices off screen ask the kids when they’re gonna do their chores, and the answer is “🎵tomorrow🎶”. Well, one of the chores is “are you gonna start your diet, Theodore?”Then the camera cuts to Bryant and he is giggling:

(baby) Joey Lawrence is also there through at least the first part of the parade interrupting stuff, like dancing with the Flintstones while they sing “jingle bell rocks”. He was also in the Cissy Houston broadway bit too.

(Robin looked like he was about to barf on his float)

1989 (partial video of parade) , it snowed about four inches that day. Deborah Norville hosted for the first time that year along with Willard Scott. She suuuuckkkked as a Today show host. I know its not polite to use the word “sucked” when I’m trying to be a professional pretend historian, but she wasn’t good.

Melba was at this parade! We remember Melba...

OH. 1989 was the year that Alf kept interrupting! He nearly dies of excitement when he sees the Garfield balloon. He looks kinda depressing here, hanging out a window in a dark room at Macys, snow falling down.

Scott Bakula striked up a band in the snow. The crowd behind him judging his every move. Dixie Carter was on a Native American float wearing a giant grey fur coat, looking like Old 'Doot from Cats.

This happened too.

Bart is my all time favorite balloon. He misbehaved a few years later too:

1995 was Bart’s last year, after having problems every single year he was in the parade.

I love this description on yet another year where Kermit broke (this time in 1991):

1991 (video) was the first year that Katie Couric hosted with Willard Scott. A magician makes them appear!

Sharon, Lois, and Braham was there too ... three people who I completely forgot about until this very second.

A circus came and a wind up elephant dog was there.

Lea Salonga sang from Miss Saigon!

OUR BOY FRASIER SHOWED UP.

Part 2 has Kermit’s demise. Aw, Willard said “it’s not so easy being green” as he was introducing the Kermit balloon.

They had clips of Kermit in better days ready to go! I guess this was the usual back then for when a balloon popped mid-parade, show its archive roll.

“You test me every (thanksgiving) day boy!”

(deflated Kermit was the inspiration for this piece of art in 2018)

You know one balloon I didn’t like growing up? Beethoven. He was in the parade from 1992-1995, and then brought back in 2008 for some reason. I guess he had another direct to DVD movie.

He looked extra droopy in 2008. I guess that’s what happens when you’re a 16 year old balloon.

1994 was the first year for the Cat in the Hat balloon, which became infamous in 1997 when he flew into a lamppost and critically injured a woman, Kathleen Caronna, who was in a coma for a month after her injury. 1 You may also remember Kathleen because in 2006, a plane carrying baseball player Cory Lidle crashed into her apartment. When my dad told me this, I thought he was reading an internet hoax. No, it was her apartment, for reals! 2

1999 was the peak of the dot-com boom, and its apparent. One of the sponsors was (in Don Pardo voice) GAAAATTEEWAYYYYY COMMPUUUUTTERRS.

and the pets.com dog had a float.

The Rockettes also dressed like marshmallow ladies who are manequins come to life? Matt Lauer’s words, not mine. It poured rain that day, and the painted street decoration was ruined immediately. I feel like I remember green pant being on some broadway performers costumes.

Millennium Snoopy in the rain bids the reader au revoir.

Related links:

X-Entertainment (dinosaur dracula) reviews the 1984 parade -- archive from 2003.

Dinosaur Dracula’s Purple Stuff podcast on the 1990 parade

Dinosaur Dracula’s Purple Stuff Podcast on the 1994 parade.

1. Collins, Glenn, “ Woman Hurt During Parade Is Out of Monthlong Coma,” New York Times, December 23, 1997. https://www.nytimes.com/1997/12/23/nyregion/woman-hurt-during-parade-is-out-of-monthlong-coma.html

2. “Bad luck hits twice for one N.Y. woman,” Star News Online, October 14, 2006. https://www.starnewsonline.com/news/20061014/bad-luck-hits-twice-for-one-ny-woman

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nennechus · 6 years ago

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gif tutorial !! (feat. anamo)

for everyone asking how i get my gifs so crispy

note: this tutorial is made using photoshop cs5! and while it should still work for newer versions, not everything may be the same. sorry :(

programs

photoshop cs5 (this is the only version i’ve really ever used so sorry cs6 and cc users)

topaz clean & denoise (optional)

kmplayer

media downloaders

4k video downloader

twitch leecher (for clips longer than what twitch allows)

how to download twitch clips (I use the “slow” method) twitch update made this useless ! so now i just use this site to download clips :)

1. extracting your frames when you can’t do video frames to layers

I think you need QuickTime (i don’t, which is why i can’t use this method) for this, but if your version of photoshop allows you to do File > Import > Video Frames to Layers, here’s another tutorial to help with that!

Remember that the best, clearest gifs come from the highest quality sources! However, I don’t normally recommend downloading actual 4k videos because while your gifs may be super HD, the frame rate is almost always really weird and slow.

After downloading your video/clip using one those nifty programs listed above, we need to extract your frames! Personally, I’ve only ever used KMPlayer to do this, but I’m sure that other equivalents will work pretty much the same.

Anyways, after opening your video in KMPlayer, pause right before the scene you want to gif and right click. There should be a tall menu that pops up, and from there you click Capture > Frame: Extract. This brings up yet another menu, and here are the best settings (at least I think so) for extracting your frames!

Now, you need to click start and let your video play. Once you’ve captured all the frames that you want, they should all be in your Capture folder that KMPlayer made for you (mine is located under This PC > Windows (C:) > KMPlayer > Capture). Just organize the frames as you want - I usually separate the frames for each gif into separate folders, but do whatever you want.

To actually get these frames into PS, start up the program and go to File > Scripts > Load Multiple DICOM Files and locate your Capture folder. Look, we have frames now. Cool.

2. actually making gifs

Make sure that your Animation window is open (it’s under Windows on PS if it’s not) so you can see what is likely only one frame, which is probably way less than the amount of frames that you captured (this will be different if you used Video Frames to Layers). To fix this, click on the symbol (a little upside-down triangle next to four lines) on the far right of the animation window and choose Make Frames From Layers.

Since we now have a lot more frames in our timeline, you can click the play button and watch them scroll through. Decide how you want to crop your gif and then resize the cropped frames to fit Tumblr (sizes here). Once you’ve done this, click on the upside-down triangle again and select Convert to Timeline, then select all the frames in the Layers tab that’s probably on the right of your screen and right click > Convert to Smart Filters. This will make sharpening easier because you can sharpen every layer all at once like this.

3, sharpening

At the top of your PS window, there should be a Filter tab. From there, click Sharpen > Smart Sharpen. Using my fairly limited experience with PS versions other than CS5, I do know that not every version of PS sharpens the same, so if you’re using something other than CS5, settings may vary somewhat. But anyways, here’s what my Smart Sharpen settings look like:

I then have my own personal sharpening action that I apply to the gif to somewhat smooth out the sharpness, but this tutorial has something towards the end that’ll give you a similar effect. And don’t forget to play your gif again to make sure that it works before you start coloring!

4. coloring

As a lot of players are POC, please be conscious of how you color the gif! Obviously, Obivously, it’s one thing to lighten up a dark scene because it’s hard to see what’s going on. However, when you purposefully and consciously make the decision to lighten (or darken) solely a player’s skin color, that’s gross! Stop!

This being said, there are 5.6 million gif coloring tutorials out there and 5.6 million ways to color a gif. Personally, I tend towards more “””natural””” and true-to-life colorings for my OWL gifs, but I’ve made vibrant and pastel and colorful gifs as well. Here’s what the base PSD for all my OWWC gifs looks like, and this is pretty representative of all my other OWL PSDs as well.

But as I said, there are so many different ways to color gifs - some of my gifs only have a total of three adjustment layers - and everyone has their own preferences for how they like their gifs to look. However, I will say that my first step in coloring is a gif is always use Levels and click the Auto option for a little color correction.

When you’re all done coloring your gif, select everything in your Layers tab (PSD + actual gif), then right click > Convert to Smart Filters again so that you only have one (1) layer in the tab.

5. using topaz to be extra (this is optional)

Is using Topaz necessary to make gifs? No, absolutely not. It also makes the giffing process take longer. It’s literally just to be extra yet I still use it on every single one of my gifs. Why? Because it makes them s m o o t h and I hate seeing pixels. Even if most OWL stages are pretty noiseless and nice overall.

To use Topaz, click on your single Smart Object gif layer and go to Filter > Topaz Labs.

While I do have both Topaz Clean and DeNoise, I typically prefer DeNoise over Clean, and that’s mostly because it’s a bit more difficult to mess it up. Topaz DeNoise does exactly what it sounds like it does - it removes noise from images. However, it also smoothes skin and hair and everything else, which is why you still need to be careful using it unless you’re going for an unrealistic, completely airbrushed look. Topaz Clean does the same, but with more emphasis on the smoothing (I guess), so it’s easier to accidentally go overboard with it.

I almost never use the two in conjunction, but a good thing about Topaz is that it also reduces your gif file size by reducing noise! Which is nice! Also here are some nice Topaz settings. I use these (for the most part)!

update as of jan. 6, 2019: I am a Big Liar and I use both Clean and Denoise together all the time now and have been doing so since pretty much immediately after writing this tutorial. Just be careful when using both otherwise your gif might start looking too smooth - as with anything else, Topaz should be used in moderation :)

6. saving your gif

This part is actually super important if you used Topaz on your gifs. After you’ve made everything into a Smart Object, click on the upside-down triangle on your Animation window and select Flatten Frames Into Layers. If you used Topaz and don’t do this before trying to save your gif for posting, you will crash PS.

This process might take a while for Topaz users, but at the end, once your Smart Object has been made into many layers, go back to the upside-down triangle, click Convert to Frame Animation, and then select Make Frames from Layers from that same menu.

Now all your frames are visible on the timeline! Delete the very first one (otherwise the same frame will be repeated twice), select all of the frames on your timeline, then click on the little “0 sec” thing beneath the frames to set the gif timing. For this, I generally recommend using 0.03 or 0.04 seconds, but this depends on personal preference as well as the frame rate of the original video.

It’s time to finally save our gif. You just go to File > Save for Web & Devices and a big window will pop up. Honestly, the only save setting that really matters is that you have your gif set to loop for forever. Some people prefer using Diffusion over Pattern when saving, but this is what mine looks like right now:

If you go to save your gif and find that it’s above Tumblr’s 3MB gif limit, you are probably just going to want to delete frames if you don’t want to lose the overall gif quality. Otherwise, you can click on that Colors: 256 box and try to cut down the number of different colors in your gif - though I will warn you that this generally makes gifs look more pixelated. And once your good and settled, click save and your gif is ready to post!

#uhhhhh idk if i should put this in the owl tag #uhhh maybe not tbh #mytutorials

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waltzshouldbewriting · 6 years ago

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Nemesis (Ghostmind Story 4)

By JD Jackson

First thing first, yes we are all fine.

That being said, you are all probably wondering the reason behind my recent online activities. Well, it all started about two AM when Dan was out helping investigate some weird gas thing.

It started for me when he barged into my room at 2:45 looking like a truck ran him over, minus the injury part.

“What’s wrong?” Was the first thing out of my mouth before my instincts finally kicked in. “Don’t answer that.” I ran from my computer (yes I was still up, sue me) to my bed, where I brushed off the papers I had all over it. I grabbed my weighted blanket, ordered Dan to lie down, and told him to relax.

“You need music - no you don’t,” I said, running through what Dan usually needs while in shutdown mode. I turned off my writing playlist, dimmed the lights, and fetched him a bottle of water.

Aaliyah called me just as I was about to call her.

“Is Dan at your place?” Aaliyah asked. She sounded half-asleep.

“Yes,” I replied, balancing the phone with my computer as I walked out to the living room. “He’s completely zoned. Do you know what happened?”

“Someone attacked him.”

“What?”

My parents were already in the living room, both on the phone. I plopped on the floor and opened up a window on my laptop.

“Let me find a picture,” I said. “See what I can find out.”

I put the phone down, already switching to research mode.

I found a video of the attack in half a minute. My mom handed me a notebook as I wrote and sketched what I saw.

Young. Our age? Design on shirt. One-way fight. Obvious training. Wasn’t seeking to kill, only hurt.

Questions began to form, and that’s when I started with the weird posting on social media.

Does anyone recognize his style of fighting?

Any idea on his symbol?

Anyone recognize him?

Another video came up, this one with a clear picture of the other person’s face. I snapped a screenshot and did a reverse image search just as a few responses came back in.

His fighting is very mixed. Can’t identify any one style.

If I had to guess, he had some jujutsu training mixed in with it.

I found his Facebook page, but it only listed what was definitely a false age and location, and a friends list. So I started searching for his friends.

That logo reminds me of Divinity White’s logo when she was Savage Serpent.

More googling, and I started connecting the dots. A photo on a friend’s timeline here, a jujutsu studio website from his hometown here.

After about thirty minutes, two police officers came to check on Dan. After some convincing from my parents, Dan came out to meet them.

“Any idea who attacked me?” Dan asked. His voice sounded flat, uninterested, but to me that just meant he was still in shutdown.

Police officers don’t know how to deal with him. And they haven’t had to yet, I realized. Not with his device. Which was still on his arm, shattered.

“Not yet,” one of the police officers responded.

“I know,” I offered. “His name is Jason White. He is sixteen years old, trained at an old rundown jujutsu studio in his hometown. He’s the son of Divinity White AKA Savage Serpent. Ms White was a member of the FOCOPI, back twenty years ago. She quit after a bad injury, and eventually married and became a lawyer. Her old secret identity was found at two years ago, shortly after which she and her husband were murdered by someone orphaned by the FOCOPI, which then left Jason orphaned. He moved in with his aunt, who still lives near the FOCOPI headquarters. And there’s an ongoing investigation to see if his aunt is the person behind the new FOCOPI member Avidizer.”

“FOCOPI may be evil, but they don’t involve kids,” one of the police officers said.

“Unless,” I replied. “The kid takes it upon himself to be involved. Jason has had two amber alerts since moving in with his aunt, but resolved quickly. One of the kids in his school with a less secure account seems to think he ran away.”

The other police officer raised an eyebrow. “So what you’re saying is the kid has a role model whose in FOCOPI, which is motive. And he likely tried more dangerous initiation tactics by himself.”

“Until FOCOPI gave in and gave him a safer mission,” I concluded. “Taking on Ghostmind, a superhero with no physical skill.”

“I’ll admit, it makes sense,” the first police officer said. She looked at my parents. “Your child is a good researcher.”

My dad chuckled. “It’s probably all that time they spend researching for that novel.”

“We’ll look deeper into what you’ve found, but we’ll still stay open to other explanations- though this one sounds solid.” The police officer looked at me. “Ever think of getting a job in criminal investigations?”

I made a face and shook my head. “Not creative enough for me.”

The next hour or so, police came and went from my house. I showed them how I did my research and the photos I’d found. Those who had time to react were impressed.

Dan’s parents came over, and the whole Davis Family stayed the night. Then, just a little after sunrise, it was time to start the next day.

Dan was already excused from school, and his mom called in with a family emergency, but the rest of us had to trot on to work and school. Not that I didn’t try to stay with him, but I was close to failing in two classes (like that mattered in the moment) and neither Dan nor my dad wanted me to stay.

So I went to school, despite having no sleep. And slept through most of my classes. When I got home, Dan and his mother were passed out in my room, so I took a nap on the couch.

The rest of the day was spent recovering from that morning. My mom forced us all to eat, even with no appetite. I spent the evening scrolling Tumblr while Dan played video games on his phone and his mother conversed with my parents.

She wanted to head home, but Dan was feeling sick from anxiety and was wary of riding in a car. Neither of them like the house (we are a messy family), and Dan complained once or twice that he should’ve walked the extra ten minutes back to his place initially. I did the best to keep the area clean, but it felt hopeless. Claudia and Aaliyah both showed up after dinner, and Aaliyah brought a tool kit to work on Dan’s device.

That night I didn’t stay up until 2 AM, but I still found myself woken up with a crash around the same time. I was sleeping on the couch, Claudia in one of the recliners, and Aaliyah had moved downstairs to work.

“What was that?” Claudia asked, sitting up.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

My parents creeped out of their room, my mom with a flashlight and my dad with a bat.

“Did you hear that?” My mom asked.

Claudia and I both nodded.

“Get Dan and go downstairs,” my dad barked.

“Why?” Claudia asked. “There’s police officers-“

“Do it.”

Dan was already awake, and he barely complained about the woody smell as we descended the stairs. I led them to a corner, and Aaliyah and Claudia moved a table to cover us.

Dan sighed and leaned his head against the cold wall, his breath speeding up. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest.

“It’s just a precaution,” Claudia whispered. “There’s no reason to panic.”

“I know,” I answered. “Doesn’t mean I can stop.”

“Shhh,” Dan hissed. “Stop talking so loud.”

Something thumped, startling me and Claudia.

“Aaliyah, how long is the repair going to take?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“Too long,” Aaliyah said.

“That’s not an answer!”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a good idea.”

I sighed. “It would make me feel better if we had a plan.”

“It’s four to one,” Claudia stated. “We could take him.”

“This is a horrible idea!” Aaliyah said.

Dan shook his head. “He’s too good of a fighter.”

“It’s four to one,” I repeated.

“I’m sure he’s trained for that,” Dan replied. “And none of us has.”

“I know a thing or two about strategy.” I looked around the room. “Now if I could only think clearly...” Closing my eyes, I did my best to concentrate. Just pretend it’s a scene in a novel.

“We have only one entrance,” I reasoned. “Umm, let’s see - we could take him by surprise - maybe, uh, nevermind, that wouldn’t work.” I continued to ramble, but slowly an idea began forming. “I think I have a plan. We need a net.”

It wasn’t hard. Claudia and I were able to sew a few stronger pieces of cloth together, and then I found small bolts in my dad’s work box that we tied to the end. Claudia took the net as we moved into position.

Claudia and I pressed our bodies against the wall next to the stairs just as the door creaked open. My heart was pounding even harder, but I forced myself to breathe slowly and softly. I listened as an unfamiliar gate walked down the stairs, ignoring the shaky feeling through my limbs.

Then Jason White stepped into the room, and me and Claudia tackled him with the net.

The good news is that we caught him by surprise. But, as Aaliyah expected, it didn’t take long for him to react. He landed an elbow into my stomach, and I stumbled backwards as pain flared. I hit the wall and collapsed, muttering a few of my favorite curse words under my breath.

Claudia recovered. Apparently, cheerleaders have high pain tolerance (which I do not, hence me lying on the floor in pain at this moment in time). She threw herself onto White and managed to wrap the net around his face in a smooth motion. It wasn’t enough to bring him down, but Claudia grabbed the edges and yanked, bringing White’s head down and making him stumble. Claudia elbowed him in the side of the head, knocking him into the wall, while he still struggled to get the net off. She kneed him in the stomach, and he punched her in the face in defense, making her stumble backwards.

White managed to toss the net off. Aaliyah had yet to finish her repairs.

I took a deep breath in, going through a quick grounding exercise. It made the pain worse, but I found I could focus. Now, all I needed was a stroke of genius.

And, impossibly, I had one.

I pushed myself up and forced myself to move to the other side of the room. White, who was still focusing on Claudia, turned my way just as I reached my target - a basket of spray paint. I grabbed a bottle, popped the lid, and sprayed it right into White’s eyes. It didn’t blind him as I’d hoped, but he did stumble backwards with a nasty wince.

Sometime during that sequence of events, Aaliyah managed to fix Dan’s device. Which was good, because a second later White punched me in the face and I went down.

“He has some type of device on his waist!” Dan called.

“What?” White asked, spinning around. He nervously patted his belt. “No I don’t!”

“A little protective of your doodad?” I asked, forcing myself up onto my knees despite the massive face ache (is that a thing?) spreading from my jaw.

Claudia, who, despite a bloody nose and a black eye, was sneaking around the side of White, took the hint. She launched forward, grabbing the device with amazing reflexes, and tossed it at Aaliyah. Aaliyah caught it, and held her wrench up to it like a knife to a throat.

White halted.

“You like this, don’t you?” Aaliyah asked. “It would be a shame if something... happened to it. But I figure if I’m smart enough to invent, I’m probably smart enough to destroy. After all, it’s supposed to be easier, right?”

White scowled. “What do you want?”

“For one, stop punching my friends. In fact, if you leave now, in the morning I’ll leave this somewhere for you to find.”

“Why would I trust you?”

“You don’t have much choice, do you?”

White huffed. “If you don’t return it, you’ll pay.” Then he turned on his heels and left.

Later that day, someone informed us that White used that device frequently to sneak pass police officers and guards. None of us know what happened to the device, since Aaliyah turned it over to the SGU.

And honestly, none of us care.

All I know is that two days later and Dan is still in panic mode and my cheek still hurts.

#writing #from my patreon page #JD Jackson #Ghostmind #original writing #patreon #superheroes

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ramskulls-archive · 7 years ago

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Whaaa you're art is amazing! Like what!? Okay, okay, I got a couple questions afyer looking through your blog: ▪When did you start using Krita? ▪what brushes do you use for sketch, line, and shading? ▪what advice can you give to me as a noob and somewhat newer artist, in usimg Krita? Love you're art whether it's finished or unfinished! 🐢💕

1.) Sometime around 2014! Krita was on version 2.8 iirc. Used to crash often so my hand was kind of permanently in a claw-like position over ctrl-s lol. These days autosave has made me a bit lazier saving files.

2.) I have a bunch of brushes I made myself! But I usually stick to just one over the course of a drawing. Most of them are simple and just have tweaked pressure curves and a different brush tip.

3.) Prepare to spend a good amount of time getting familiar with the program! It’s designed to let you do your work and just provides you the tools with which to do it. More often than not people give up on Krita because it seems heavy and daunting! That and lag, but we’ll address that later.

Suggestions:

- Learn to love pressure curves. Here is a link to a tutorial by David Revoy, which shows some common pressure curves. (Also try an S-shaped curve!)

You can also set pressure curves for individual brushes if you want different feels for different brushes. It can affect size, opacity, color, etc. So many possibilities. These curves can take away a lot of stress from your hand! If you find yourself hurting because you need to put too much pressure on your lines to make them thicker, change the pressure curve! If you wanna make thin lines easier, pressure curves!

- On that note, play with the brush settings! There are so so many options it seems daunting, but the pixel brush alone can give you many great effects! Play with brush tips and spacing and rotation and the aforementioned curves! They don’t have to be super weird to be useful! My favorite brush is probably just the default brush with different pressure curves for size and opacity. Moat of my brushes are variations of that, to be fair.

- Shortcuts are your friend. Open Krita and have a look at the keyboard shortcuts settings. You can probably bind nearly everything to a keyboard shortcut! I have my most used ones mapped where my left hand can reach them, my fingers barely even have to move. Learn what tools and shortcuts you use the most!

- Navigate like a boss. Learn these by heart:

PAN (space + drag)

ZOOM (ctrl + space + drag) (reset with ctrl+0)

ROTATE (shift + space + drag) (reset with 5)

MIRROR (M) (mine is set to shift-v though because I use it a lot)

- Blending modes are awesome. There’s two. Layer blending modes and brush blending modes. Each can be used to make fun effects! For example, creating glowing stars is easy with a scatter brush and addition brush blending mode. I also love to do bright lighting with a new layer set to hard overlay. Behind is also great if you are lazy like me and just want to paint on the same layer but gosh dang the lineart is in the way.

Read more about blending modes here, if you wanna get all geeky and excited about it like me. Here’s a video on blending modes by GDquest, so you can see their effects visually.

- Read the wiki! It’s there to answer all your questions and more. If not, you can always post a question on the IRC or forums, or you can also throw a question my way or to krita’s tumblr.

Other fun features:

- wraparound mode (W) - good for tiles images such as wallpapers

- multibrush - make perfectly symmetrical images or things like snowflakes

- animation - enough said!!

- different layer types such as clone layers and file layers! which can be combined with transformation masks as seen in this tutorial here by Wolthera.

- document information - found in the file menu, it tells you who is the author (you can set up in settings) as well as how much time you spend on a file! Very helpful, especially with commissions!

Krita and lag

If you have a not so powerful computer (like me) lag can be a deterrent. Some tips:

- Try not to work on super large canvases. (lately though, with instant preview, it seems to be a little better)

- Turn instant preview on or off. Sometimes it works better without it, sometimes it doesn’t.

- Brushes tend to be a source of lag, such as large textures, small spacing. Try to use smaller textures and increase the spacing of the brush.

- If your brush doesn’t need to be super accurate (like a heavily textured rough brush), set precision to 0.

Aaaand that’s pretty much it! I’ll add more when I come up with more, feel free to send an ask if you have any more questions! Krita is like, one of my favorite topics and it gets me too excited. I’ve typed this out like 3 times and had to retype it twice now lol but yeah. Have fun!

#krita #whisper-chan

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sharkiegorath · 7 years ago

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On Elias

[this is the third (3rd) time I’ve tried posting this since Tumblr’s mobile search/tag search keeps eating the post. because it’s perfectly fine with showing untagged personal posts and spam whenever you search for something, but randomly decides when to show Actual Content]

ok look I know people don’t always read the OP’s tags but I keep getting “I’M SURE HE’S EVIL” comments on a pair of gifsets with fairly obviously positive parallels and reblogging something just to definitively say “that mysterious character is eviiiiiiil” is Not Cool, even if it’s in the tags.

Yes, recent commentator, Elias definitely broke into the house. It's probably why he suggested that the Johnsons go out in the first place! But the common assumption is A) that he planted the books and B) that he did so for a malicious reason. It seems as obvious as it could possibly be while remaining unconfirmed. It seems so obvious in such a twisty show that I think it isn’t that straightforward.

Gosh, where to begin? Firstly, names and etymology are pretty good theory fodder and Easter eggs, e.g., ‘Hap’=haphephobia and all its ‘hap’-prefixed variants; ‘Khatun’ is both an old title of nobility and a modern word referring to any woman. 'Rahim' means ‘merciful’ or 'servant of the merciful'. 'Elias' is a cognate of 'Elijah'. Elijah was the Abrahamic prophet who sort of had a special connection with women and children; who was cared for by an angel; who resurrected the dead; who entered Heaven without dying at the end of his earthly life; who is sometimes believed to have become an angel. All of this information is available on Wikipedia! So even if Elias did plant the books, I don’t automatically assume he’s malicious.

There’s this interesting bit in an interview with The Atlantic:

Marling: [...] I think one of the original stories that was influential actually comes from Jewish mysticism. Do you know it?

Kornhaber: Is this leaving the door open for Elijah at Passover?

Marling: Yeah. It’s so beautiful. I think it’s amazing to try and use that as a reminder of trying to stay open. I struggle with that all the time. You get scared and you close the door. But I think The OA, she’s inviting them to let a new thing in.

(Principal Gilchrist's first name is another cognate of Elijah - 'Ellis' - and his surname means 'servant of Christ'. People have made the connection between Ellis and his "water under the bridge" comment to Ellis Island and the nearby Statue of Liberty, plus he has a snow globe of the latter.)

Elias’ potential connection with an ‘evil’ Rachel was probably debunked early by Zal Batmanglij on Twitter: the plants in her cell died because she refuses to water them as an act of rebellion. I'm too lazy to go through the whole thing about why her name being on the office wall in large Braille doesn't automatically mean she works there in the first place. I think she and Elias are connected (because of his car crash analogy and the “[My brother] never got to hear it”/”I’m a listener” lines), but I doubt it’s as evil agents.

Elias is shocked and defensive when he bumps into French in the house - but the scene follows French, so of course we aren't shocked and suspicious about French’s presence. Basically, the audience has had the same reaction to Elias breaking in as Elias initially has to French breaking in. Part of what makes Elias seem suspicious is his reaction. IMO Elias doesn't even imply or confirm that the OA was lying - he just doesn't correct French. The other 'suspicious' thing he does is...move his eyes while hugging French, which isn’t incriminating on its own since the emotion is ambiguous.

There's confusing reasoning behind why Elias would place the books in the first place. The books seem tailored to match major aspects of the OA's story. The immediate assumption is that if someone planted the books, they meant for the Crestwood Five to find them and conclude that she based lies upon them. But if that's the case, Elias likely had no way of knowing that French would break in, go to her room, thoroughly search her room, and look where he did. There was no guarantee that any of the Five would find the books, jump to the conclusion that OA was lying, then share the discovery with the others.

Alternatively, you could argue that Elias planted the books intending for someone else to find them during an investigation and use it as proof that OA was making up stories, and the Five would fall for it in the process. But in that case, why did he let French leave with all of the books? And remember, Buck kept one and the rest let him. It’s possible that they submitted the other books to the FBI offscreen, or that Elias replaced the books. But I’ve never seen the theory cover what happened to the books after the reveal, so I won’t play with that hypothetical situation here.

Maybe Elias planted the books for someone else to find and didn’t know French took them. After all, we don't know what happened after the hug. But that introduces a new set of logical problems. How would French sneak a big, heavy box out of the house? He could take it if Elias had already left or wasn’t watching him...but why would Elias leave French unsupervised? Does anyone think that Elias ensured French left, then French broke in again not long afterwards and took the books, all offscreen? And couldn’t his presumably nearby car be a potential giveaway?

So, the books don't make much sense as an attempt to disillusion the Five. Some people think French's reaction stretches audience suspension of disbelief, right - I think it's an even bigger stretch that the FBI would predict a break-in and his reaction. To a lesser extent, the books also don't make sense as an attempt to frame OA, because they end up with the boys and don’t seem to play a role beyond breaking their faith. As for how French took the books while Elias was there, Elias advocates strategic passivity and avoids direct persuasion; I don't find it outlandish that French would say something like "I need to show proof to the others" then take the box, and Elias wouldn’t protest because it's not part of his agenda either way.

The next most obvious explanation for the books is if they really are OA’s. They weren’t necessarily used to construct a lie.

In the previous episode, OA had a conversation with BBA about how cultures that suffer more loss tend to have more totems. OA knew this because of an exhibit that she loved so much as a child that she made her parents take her back twice. It made a lasting impact on her, as evidenced by the wolf hoodie that reminds her of Homer’s. BBA is not with the boys when French reveals the books, so she doesn't even have the chance to recall that conversation. We don’t know if BBA learned about the books after the boys did. And the books were specifically stored beneath the wolf hoodie. The Five may not be aware of the hoodie’s significance; Elias wouldn’t know the hoodie’s significance unless OA wore it to a session and he asked why she has a hoodie with a wolf on it, or she spontaneously told him, both of which seem a bit far-fetched. (Onscreen, at least, she never wore it to a therapy session.)

Ehh, miscellaneous notes:

It’s uncertain that OA can read English text. But the conversation with BBA says that the Thing Itself isn't as important as what it symbolises. (“Objects carry meaning in difficult times.”) She doesn't need to be able to read the books in order for them to mean something. Anyway, she might’ve been bilingual from a young age; she was 7 or 8 when she went blind and she seems fluent in English by the time we see her in the American boarding school. (There might be proof that she can write in English, since she signed the bottom of the note she left for her parents? It’s been interpreted both ways so idk.)

The Five getting discovered in the abandoned house probably wasn’t set up by Elias. BBA had previously slipped and told Principal Gilchrist about it while driving to save Steve.

I don’t strongly rule it out, but I don’t think Elias spied on the Five, because he only realises who French is when he tells him his name. Unless he’s pretending.

Why were the books under OA’s bed, under the hoodie? Maybe she hid her totems in case her parents found them, since Nancy already thought she had delusions that could easily be linked to The Oligarchs and The Iliad. It’s unclear to me, but there might be a moment in the first episode where OA shoves the video camera under her bed (starts at 29:15-ish), foreshadowing that she might’ve done the same thing with the books later.

The issues I have with my own theory are:

According to the label on the Amazon box, the books were delivered in September. That's at odds with how OA's video was posted in February 2016. But the FBI (or another organisation) ordering the books also doesn't make sense: they would’ve been planning to discredit her months before she returned or assembled the Five or told her story. Even if they knew about the experiments, Hap dumping OA on the road in February seemed entirely spontaneous; that itself was the result of a seemingly random event (getting caught by the sheriff). More importantly, I’d question why the boys didn't notice the discrepancy in dates, and why the FBI didn't realise it themselves. (Like, all they had to do was remove the label or use a different box.) How can they predict a very specific chain of events yet not be smart enough to remove a label? It’s not impossible in the broader scope of the story - maybe they have reality-warping powers, maybe there’s time travel involved - but right now it’s a big stretch just to support the basic theory that Elias planted the books. So I suspect the label is a minor production oversight. Considering exactly how briefly the date is onscreen and difficult to read even when the scene is paused, I think it wasn’t meant to be read by the audience. (Compare the length of the date’s visibility and its readability to earlier in the scene, when French looks at the newspaper clippings, or whenever a phone/computer screen takes up the frame.)

How did OA order the books? The hardest part is how she went online, but she could’ve placed the order sometime in the first episode before the router was taken away. It’s possible to order things from Amazon without a credit card and have them sent to a pickup point or post office, so that’s not a big issue if she had money somewhere (or stole it from her parents, which is 100% in-character for her). Sneaking the package into the house is another problem - but, then again, she’s cunning and her room is conveniently located so things can fairly easily go in/out of her window.

Elias suggested that the Johnsons go out for a family dinner. That somewhat complicates the timeframe he would’ve had for breaking in; if the outing had gone 'normally' they would've returned home before it was very late, yet still at an unpredictable time. (Again, he probably had no way of knowing they’d choose French's workplace, that it’d go badly, etc.) He was unable to break into the Johnsons' home on the night the OA finished her story, which is why he broke in later on, when French did. I guess Nancy and Abel went home after the incident at the Olive Garden and Elias saw the house was occupied, so he waited, and luckily for him they left the next day?

I’m not sure whether Elias lies when French asks if OA told him about Homer, the mine, and Hap’s studies. She told Elias specifics about the first and third premonitions, but it’s unclear how much she explained the second, Homer wasn’t mentioned by name onscreen, and we don’t know if she talked about the movements and angels. It’s worth noting that right after their last session, Elias does lie. OA explained her dreams, including the previous night’s. Afterwards, Nancy assumes Elias knows what happened last night...but he says no, seemingly to see how Nancy explains it. He’s capable of minor lies to Learn Things for ambiguous reasons. (Does he lie to Nancy for OA’s benefit? Or is it because he doesn’t trust OA, or is it simply an effort to hear different sides? I think the tone of the scene suggests he’s trying to help OA, but you might think it’s deliberately misleading. Anyway, they’re not all mutually exclusive motives.)

If the books really were OA’s, what was her reaction when she returned home and they were missing? She probably wouldn't tell her parents. But what would she think happened? Possibly she might be able to put two and two together since she’d previously helped Steve sneak into her room. Maybe she doesn’t seem sad right before the shooting because she deduced that the Five wanted to help her, and she didn’t know that the boys concluded she was lying.

We might be able to get general sense of where The OA is headed by examining Brit and Zal's previous work. Sound of My Voice is the most similar. One of the most common (and plausible) theories for SOMV is that Maggie was telling the truth and the 'FBI agent' wasn't actually an FBI agent. But there are other reused elements that were subverted: OA is much less intimidating and more personable than Maggie; the Five are inclined to believe her without being cult-like; the agent was trying to catch Maggie without her knowledge instead of possibly pretending to help her. I kinda hope it's a meta Red Herring planted for people who've watched both.

Elias was in the house for a reason. I think the video camera and all of the tapes might be a Chekhov's Gun. Brit Marling said something along the lines of "it’s worthy to question Elias’ motives"; he doesn’t necessarily have Good intentions. However, him planting the books isn’t a sure thing and we know nothing about whatever he did in the time gap before the shooting; there’s no indication that he helped or hindered OA in any way, if they’re still in contact, etc. So I think it’s a Bit Much to leap to "ELIAS IS EVIL" Not everyone who thinks he planted the books assumes he’s evil, which is nice. But it's Tiring seeing the evil accusation treated as if it's rare or a new theory, especially considering the depth of analysis that the rest of the show receives.

#elias rahim #the oa #oatheories #prairie johnson #oa #my oa theories #@ search function meet me in the pit you bitch #what are you doing? why are you so determined to smear elias' literally good name?#it's still not showing up??? i'm going to flip a table????

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olmopress · 5 years ago

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Lessig Come Home

week 6: Lawrence Lessig, “How Creativity is Being Strangled by the Law”

OK. OK. OK.

You may not be aware of this, but this it the third time, yes the

THIRD

time I try to make this post. This stupidly idiotic platform called Tumblr made my browser crash TWICE. I had written – especially the first time – amazing beautiful blogposts that would have made the history of the net, but what can you do? Well, I kinda know.

I’d like to have a little talk with the CEO of Tumblr about this. I have a couple of things to tell him

But let us not get carried away by transitory matters. We are here to discuss Lawrence Lessig, dad of Creative Commons and almost homophone to a very famous dog. Let’s get started.

OK kids I gotta say I like the guy. I watched the talk he gave at JCU a few months ago, where he stormed a magnificent papillon… I mean you gotta love this guy right? Right. So maybe you think that since I liked him I’m not gonna make fun of him?

Try again.

So. Remix. My man Lawrence starts by distinguishing two modes of culture: READ/WRITE (RW) and READ ONLY (RO). Yes, I’ll explain it to you heathens. RW is when common people get not only to consume but also to contribute to culture. Like when your friend Kevin lets out a massive burp and you decide to up the ante and respond with an equally massive burp which also conveys the blessing of spoken words. That’s RW fellas. Also like folk songs are RW. OK? RO instead is passive: it’s when normal people just shut up and experience products of culture. Like when you go to the movies (kids mi raccomando go to the movies, like in proper theatres – I promise it is so cool) and you just shut up and watch. Or when you go to a classical music concert and you shut up and listen. Or when you have reading to do and so you shut up and read. In RO you mostly shut up. It’s a tough life. But hey Johnny Cash said life is rough so you gotta be tough. So shut up and be tough.

Now read only this amazing piece of culture in homo sapiens sapiens form.

OK then Lessig talks a little about quoting and the fact that when you write your stupid papers you can do whatever the hell you want with copyrighted materials “so long as you cite.” And he basically says: “hey! why the hell can’t I do that with video stuff too?” Yeah because all this writing and theory was to advocate for his liberty to make stupid videos on Youtube while high from California weed. Weird guy this Lawrence huh.

But anyways, he says that regulation should adapt to technology and allow us to distinguish between amateurs and professionals and so and so, bla bla bla...

REMIX

Yes! That’s what my man Lessig loves. Remixes on YouTube! Because he thinks are a way to go back to RW culture after a century of RO! And so he lists them!

There are mashups…

youtube

I used to love this stuff when I was 14

And then there are anime music videos…

And then call-and-response virality…

Everything looks very interesting…

But…

It is all an excuse to say…

That this has nothing to do with technique and that today normal alphanumeric writing is like Latin in 21st century. You sure? I mean yes, academic writing is as incomprehensible as Latin to me but I mean… I don’t…

Oh right. He says “the words, images, sounds, and videos of the twenty-first century speak to the vulgar; they are the forms of expression that are understood by most people” (160). So like he’s talking about memes

EXCEPT

L you’re probably right in terms of form because yeah memes are like that, but in terms of content… I mean not really Lassie. Because memes are all about that idiotic post-ironic, nonsensical, dank stuff. Like the moth. ‘member the moth Lawrence?

Whatever. Lawrence doesn’t care ‘cause he’s got 99 problems and a bitch ain’t none. Like he’s got the problem of this F***ING copyright laws that are just out of date and useless and stupid and frankly are essentially theft so okay? Now off to the next step, comrade.

The funny one. The one in which he describes various kinds of economies (if this sounds like an episode of Friends, you are probably right my friend). So. There are three kinds of economies, Lawrence says.

Economy No. 1: commercial. Essentially pagare moneta, vedere cammello. Quid pro quo. Monetary exchange.

Economy No. 2: sharing. Like love. No money involved. What do you mean you don’t what that it’s like? Go ask my friend Melania, she can explain.

Economy No. 3: hybrid. OK so this is weird. Lassieg please define:

“An economy where a commercial entity leverages a sharing economy, or viceversa”

Mmh. And he says hybrids are eVeRyWhErE… like Flickr is an example…

Sooooo let me get this straight. No, Lawrence you can’t stop me from saying it:

THEY’RE NOT HYBRIDS

Because – like – when you have a commercial entity inside which there’s a sharing economy, you have… simply a commercial economy :)

IT’S AN ILLUSION

Yeah. I’m sorry. And you know what, my dear kulaki friend? You spotted yourself. because a few lines later you drop the magical combination of words that makes a certain iron female and very masculine Hollywood star get very excited – you write…

FREE MARKETS

Caught you bro. What a shame.

At this point, the reading is essentially over. L goes on for a while talking AGAIN about how much we should correct our obsession with copies, and how much we should end the war on piracy. But it’s not really relevant in 2019 anymore, right?

But one last thing. I wanted to thank Mr. Fancy bow tie. Because in his talk he was able to demonstrate the bottom line is that all these things relate to human behavior. That the essence of the internet’s problems is corruption. and corruption has to do with what is it that there is in our hearts. It’s about our spirit. Our driving force. Our mission. And it also means that there is no structure or technology that oppresses us. It always us oppressing us. Which is sad. But it also means that it is in our powers to change it. And we should do it. And we shall do it.

So thank you. That was encouraging and inspiring. You’ll receive a new bow tie from me around Christmas.

but

NOW

it is time for

CULTURE

OK why don’t we diversify a little the kind of music I post here, and use this opportunity to celebrate a genre which is essentially based on remix? Enjoy.

youtube

And also, why don’t I do that with art, too? Hell yeah I’m doing it. Get this Mimmo Rotella’s “Cinemascope” from 1962!

Au revoir ♥

Image Sources: Instagram, GIPHY.com, Amazon.com, bustle.com, wikiart.org, facebook.com

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ais-n · 7 years ago

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Reciprocal #1: Reina’s Story

This is a short story I wrote yesterday that I decided to make the beginning of a serial series of short stories, disconnected from anything else I’ve ever written. I’ll be posting more of this series on my patreon in the future so if you want to read more check https://www.patreon.com/ais for the patron early access, or just wait until I release it for free to everyone.

This is also starting SPOOKY MONTH for me, since October’s my favorite month and Halloween’s my favorite holiday <3 Give me spooky suggestions if you want for other content this month! Art prompts, story prompts, it doesn’t matter! If you have an idea, throw it my way and I might do it :) I want to do lots of fun stuff in October :)

Oh btw, like just about everything I write, this is LGBTQIA+, has a lesbian main character, and includes some violence and swearing.

Also, trigger warning for suicide.

RECIPROCAL #1: REINA’S STORY

The bus rocked as it rolled over a pothole. Like everyone else, Reina had her earbuds in while she stared at her phone, thumbs absently flicking their way through the newest app game. She didn’t need the earbuds; she had no music playing, and the bus as a whole was almost uncomfortably quiet. But she needed them for armor, for protection against the casual blade of a stranger’s inquisitive mind.

She was still trying to find her new normal but she thought she’d found the balance, as long as she didn’t think.

Someone in the back turned on a video and didn’t have their jack plugged in properly. For a few seconds, she heard the garbled sounds of a woman cheerfully greeting the viewers before the voice cut out. Reina ignored it, like the rest of the passengers.

Battle done. Next enemy on screen. Did she have enough power or was she going to have to fail out of this level and start with a different configuration?

The bus rocked again, this time around a sharp turn. Reina’s arm pressed lightly against the wall.

Reina hadn’t paid attention to anyone else the whole time on the trip; she kept her eyes downcast and only saw others in her peripheral vision. She knew a woman was sitting next to her but hadn’t bothered to get much of a view of her other than a nice yellow sun dress she wore under a bronze bomber jacket. The shoes were the strangest part; a pair of dark boots that looked expensive but were inexplicably dirty. Like she’d walked in mud, maybe. The jacket was cute, and Reina thought once or twice about asking where she got it, but that would require breaking the commuter silence with a real voice instead of just a tinny one echoing from a speaker.

Not worth it, she thought. Just play the game ten more minutes, and her stop would be close enough that she’d have to put away her phone and pay attention. Construction was a bitch around here, so it was giving her a little more time to play while the bus repeatedly stopped at lights.

The woman in the sun dress reached toward the cord on Reina’s other side, hesitated with her fingers not quite catching, tried a different angle over Reina’s head, and realized she couldn’t reach from her seat without encroaching on Reina’s territory. Reina automatically pulled the cord for her.

“Stop requested,” the bus announced.

In Reina’s peripheral vision, she saw the woman smile. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Reina nodded without bothering to reply.

The bus trundled its way the last half block toward the stop, and pulled to a jerking halt. The doors opened and the woman in the sun dress got up. She stood for a second at Reina’s side but Reina didn’t look up. After a pause, the woman walked to the front and jogged down the steps.

The bus continued to sit there. Reina thought she felt eyes on her and finally glanced up. A couple of people were looking at her oddly, but most people continued to ignore their surroundings.

A woman in the seat behind her leaned forward and murmured, “Don’t you need to get off?”

Reina pulled out her earbuds. “What?”

“The stop,” the woman said, and pointed at the open doors. The bus driver was looking at Reina in the rear view mirror now, too.

“Oh. No, I just pulled it for someone else.” The woman gave her a weird look, so Reina figured maybe she thought Reina was being rude. “Thanks,” she added.

The bus driver hesitated, then flipped the doors closed and started off. Reina was looking up now, so she noticed the woman in the sun dress standing on the corner ready to cross the street. For some reason, the woman had pulled out an umbrella and had it open despite the clear Autumn day. Maybe she was sensitive to sunlight.

She darted in front of the bus as it started to pull out. Reina sucked in a breath, sitting upright ready to yell out— but the woman appeared on the other side of the bus, running across the street. Reina’s heartbeat shot into overdrive even so, and she turned to watch the woman’s progress even as the bus started off in the opposite direction. The woman made it to the curb safely, and Reina relaxed, watching as she now jogged across a side street.

A man driving his car down the main road saw the construction and stopped traffic ahead, and suddenly decided to take a shortcut through the back streets. He tore around the corner without looking.

The woman in the sun dress was hit so hard, Reina swore she could hear the meaty thunk even through the windows. She went flying into the air, crashed against the top of the car, and fell to the street. Her umbrella skittered off along the ground. Blood sprayed everywhere.

“Oh my god!” Reina burst out.

(click below to continue reading this story; if tumblr doesn’t let you, read the rest of the story at https://www.patreon.com/posts/14652715)

The car ran up over the curb and hit a tree. The woman didn’t move. Her boots had fallen over on the ground from where she had been jerked right out of them.

Reina threw herself to a stand, frantically twisting around, horrified by the sight. “Oh my god!” she yelled again, and scrambled over the empty seat next to her. “Someone call 911!”

The commuters around her jerked to attention. The bus driver looked in the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

“The woman! The woman was just hit! Oh my god— We have to help her! Stop the bus!”

The bus driver pulled over and turned around. “What woman? Where?”

“Back there! She tried to cross the street and— I’ll go help—”

Reina ran up to the front and swiped her pass on the reader, too civic-minded even in the midst of terror to forget.

“What are you—” the bus driver started but Reina was terrified that the longer they waited, the closer the woman would be to dying.

“Open the doors!” Reina pounded on them when they stayed closed. “Open them! Please!”

The bus driver did so and Reina threw herself down to the street, running around the front of the bus and barely waiting to see if traffic was clear before sprinting across the road. She ran as fast as she could back to the side street, a horrible lump growing in her throat the closer she came and the more she could see. One of the woman’s legs was barely attached to her body anymore, and her neck was at an angle that was completely wrong.

“No, no, no,” Reina whispered to herself, hoping against hope that she was okay, that the hospital could fix this, that everyone would be okay.

She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t see another death—

She nearly fell over herself at the scene, ignoring the man in the car for a second while she knelt next to the woman. Reina hesitated a second, some part of her too scared to touch the woman because it would make it reality, another part disgusted by the blood and bodily fluid everywhere. But the majority of her was too concerned for the woman to care. She pressed her fingers to the woman’s neck.

All she felt was deathly cold. No pulse.

Her lungs compressed.

No. No, no, no…

“What are you doing?” someone yelled from afar.

“She’s dead!” Reina yelled back, hearing the frantic catch in her own voice. She desperately moved her hands around the woman, somehow thinking she could bring her back to life if she only knew how. “No, no, she’s dead, she’s dead, oh my god— Check the driver!”

She distantly heard a commotion but couldn’t pay attention to it. Somewhere even further in the distance, sirens blared. Reina twisted around toward the sound, hoping to see how far away it was, hoping somehow the EMTs could work a miracle where she could not.

Someone was standing behind her.

Reina was startled, seeing first the legs and feet. She was about to look up when she realized this person, this bystander, had the damn audacity to pick up the woman’s dirty boots from the ground and put them on. What kind of lowlife—

Reina looked up with a glare, ready to ream the person out.

She saw a yellow sun dress first, then a bronze bomber jacket, then the face she’d seen only in her periphery before. A face that also was still lying dead at her knees.

The woman from the bus looked down, her umbrella angled behind her to block the sun, a funny expression on her untouched face. Reina’s breath sucked in; her heart skipped a beat, then went dreadfully fast. They stayed there in that awful silence, Reina far too aware of the fact that the body hadn’t moved from in front of her; that her hand still rested on the dead woman’s shoulder. And yet there she stood behind Reina too, makeup, hair and clothing perfectly done and intact, not a speck of blood on her. She continued looking at her body before slowly raising her gaze.

Their eyes met, and the woman smiled the same sad, small smile as on the bus. “Thank you,” she said, “for noticing.”

Reina’s breath guttered out. “What?” she whispered.

“What are you doing!” the same person from before screamed, getting closer. “Get out of the—”

The woman in the sun dress looked past Reina. Reina turned to look too, just in time to see a car swerve around her. A catastrophe of noise and movement overwhelmed her; the scent and sound of the tires burning as they avoided her; the crunching of metal as the car slammed into the tree; glass shattering and spraying Reina; the horn blowing endlessly. A dead branch from the tree cracking and falling down.

The sight of it getting closer above her.

A scream that might have been hers.

Darkness.

+ + +

A machine beeped lowly, evenly. Reina heard it far before she could see it, or feel anything. It anchored her and irritated her. She wanted to leave it behind, but it wouldn’t let her go.

Beep… beep… beep…

Somewhere in that nether-realm, she heard voices layering over the machine. Sometimes emotional, sometimes even, sometimes so faint she could barely understand. Sometimes in languages she didn’t understand.

Over time, she learned the contours of those syllables; found meaning in the words. They came and went; sometimes a conversation, other times disconnected.

“So sad,” a woman said quietly.

“So sad,” said a man.

“She might not wake,” a woman said.

“She will,” came a voice, fervent and furtive. It was one Reina recognized from somewhere in memories she couldn’t access. “I won’t leave her side until she does.”

Beep… beep… beep…

An understanding of the world slowly returned to her; the concept of the sounds existing somewhere within her hearing, the knowledge she had ears to listen, the memory that she had a body housing her soul.

She began to feel that body; the memory of fingertips and legs and breath rising and falling in her chest brought to life her understanding that these things were still happening; that she still could feel them.

She remembered she had sight, but still she couldn’t see.

She remembered it was dark because she had eyelids blocking out the light.

She remembered she had to open her eyes to see, but exhaustion weighed heavily on her, and she was drawn once more down into the deep.

Beep… beep… beep…

“What do you think happened?” asked a man.

“Her foster sister told me,” a woman said. “Her girlfriend committed suicide last month`. She found the body.”

“And with her history…” the man trailed off.

“That sort of stressor would affect anyone, but her? It must have triggered it.”

“Did she know? I heard she was adopted.”

“Her foster sister said she’d just found her family name. She was going to reach out, right before her girlfriend died.”

“So sad,” the man said. “She probably didn’t even know.”

“We wouldn’t have either, without the name. The records were sealed.”

“Still,” the man mused, “who would have thought that Nev had a child?”

Beep… beep… beep…

Images flickered behind Reina’s eyelids. She couldn’t make sense of any of it at first, but she found words for them over time. Dirty, and blood, and yellow, and umbrella.

A woman in a dress standing over her and smiling.

Reina gasped in a breath, choking and coughing. Her eyes flew open. White on white on white and nothing made sense and she couldn’t breathe—

She flailed, pulling at cords and plastic and all these pieces attached to her, tethering her down.

A hand holding still, voices in the background crying out in surprise, the machine going louder and faster, a beep beep beep beep beep—

“Reina?” The voice from before, the one she recognized; dragging out all the emotions she’d ever heard into two syllables.

Reina looked over, trying to understand this too-bright existence, and saw her foster sister gripping her wrist with both hands. Staring up at her with tear-filled eyes, snot-filled nose, and lips that trembled.

“Mali?” Reina looked at her sister blankly and then darted her gaze around. The room seemed filled with medical professionals suddenly, too many to make sense for one place, one person. But as she looked she realized no, there weren’t that many, she must have been tired. There was only the one nurse rushing to turn off the alarms.

“You’re okay,” Amalia was saying, tears breaking the surface of her voice. “You’re going to be okay, Reina, I promise.”

Reina half-expected to see yellow around her, a set of dirty boots, but it was only Amalia and the nurse, and now the sounds of people coming down the hallway.

Yellow.

“Is she alive?” Reina said urgently, memory returning with a vengeance. She grabbed onto Amalia. “Is she okay? I tried—I tried to help her—”

Amalia’s expression froze, and slowly crumpled. “Oh no,” she said slowly, a tectonic shift in her voice. “Oh, Reina, I’m so sorry… Rosa died.”

“What?” A different memory this time, one too powerful and harrowing to even try to remember: cracked fingernails, the blue, the blood, the bulging eyes— “No,” a strength in her voice she hadn’t meant to have, something to overpower those memories and push them aside, “I mean the woman in the dress. On the bus. She was hit by a car. I think… I think she was dead, but…”

But there was something wrong with the woman, wasn’t there? Something that didn’t make sense…

What was it? Hazy images that didn’t fit with each other; something cold and still in front of her but moving behind, and…

“Reina.” The gentleness in Amalia’s voice was another level beyond what it had been before; something heartbreaking, something brittle and careful. She shifted her hold on Reina’s wrist; went from gripping it to sliding their palms together, to interlinking their fingers. She held Reina’s hand as a warm lifeline, and met her eyes with a powerful sadness. She opened her mouth and closed it.

Thank you for noticing.

Those words wouldn’t leave Reina’s mind. The way they were said, the feeling she had in hearing them, the impact of the woman’s body against the car and the impression she made on Reina’s heart.

She must have died after all. That could be the only reason for Amalia’s hesitation.

“What?” Reina asked through dry lips.

“Reina,” Amalia tried again, her features fighting the emotions Reina could feel trying to take over. Amalia bit her lip, readjusted her hold on Reina’s hand, and clearly made an effort to focus on Reina and not let discomfort shift her gaze. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I… I talked to the police. They told me what happened.”

“And she’s dead?” Reina whispered.

“No, Reina. The woman…” A tighter grip. “The thing is, Reina, there was never a woman to begin with.”

“What?” Reina felt like the world took one step away from her. “No, there was. Everyone was looking at their phones, but ask the bus driver. There was a lady in a yellow dress sitting next to me and she got off at that stop.”

“Reina.” Amalia’s tone was gentle and kind and made Reina feel like none of this could possibly be happening right now. “They did talk to her. She said you ran off the bus and crouched in the street, and caused an accident. You were hurt, and…”

“No. That can’t be. She was there, it’s just no one noticed—”

Thank you for—

“I’m so sorry, Reina, but they’ve seen the video. The whole time on the bus and then on the street, you were alone. There wasn’t a woman, and there wasn’t an accident except the one that you were in.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. How could I…?”

The nurse was standing next to the bed, Reina realized belatedly, as were two doctors behind her. They had been watching with their carefully crafted expressions that Reina knew now hid pity. She remembered that look, from the moments she refused to remember of her girlfriend—

No, that wasn’t a path she would take; she was in the here and now, she was sitting in this room, she was listening to this insanity that a woman who clearly had been there wasn’t there. Maybe it was a conspiracy. Maybe the cops and the bus driver were in on it. Maybe they didn’t want the negligence on their conscience, because that construction should have had a crosswalk to give the woman more visibility, and maybe the bus driver wasn’t supposed to let them off right there anyway…

“Reina, we’ve talked to your sister,” one of the doctors said. “I’m sure this is all very confusing for you. But we believe we know what happened.”

Reina couldn’t speak; none of this made any sense, any more than the woman dying but still standing behind her. Maybe this was all a dream.

“She tells us you recently learned of your biological family; that you believe you found the identity of your mother.”

When Reina didn’t answer, Amalia did. “She did, but she hasn’t had the chance to reach out to her…”

The doctors exchanged a look.

“What is it?” Amalia asked.

“The name you gave us. We know her.”

“You do?” Amalia asked in surprise, her hand tightening on Reina’s. It was the only thing that tied Reina to the reality of this bizarre dream, that feeling of warmth and connection. “I don’t know if she’s ready to…”

“No, no, we aren’t suggesting Reina contact her. Certainly not now, and maybe not ever.”

“Why wouldn’t she…?”

One of the doctors came closer; knelt next to the bed and placed a hand on the sheets next to Reina’s leg. Reina couldn’t move her gaze away once their eyes met, even though she still felt like her body and mind weren’t quite in alignment.

“Reina, Dr. Nasin would like to talk to you. Alone. We will all—”

“I don’t need to be alone.”

The medical professionals exchanged looks again. “I really think you might want—”

Reina felt a flash of her usual self transcend this dreamlike lethargy. “I mean it. Anything you want to say, say it in front of my sister. I give you whatever medical permission you need.”

Another pause, another exchange. Dr. Nasin pinched her lips briefly, as if in thought, and looked at Amalia, who looked back stubbornly. She smoothed the clothes at her thighs. “This is not normal procedure, but these aren’t normal circumstances, I suppose. We wouldn’t normally make a determination based on circumstantial evidence, but…”

“What are you trying to say?”

Dr. Nasin looked at Amalia, looked at the other doctors, looked back at Reina, and sighed. “I’m sorry to have to give you this news right after you woke up, but we discussed it and thought it might be less alarming for you to know right away rather than worry about anything you might see or hear. Your mother, your biological mother, was a patient of ours for many years. She had schizophrenia.”

Amalia sucked in a breath.

Dr. Nasin continued without pause, “Based on what happened, on your words and actions at the scene, and based on your age, we worry that you may be at risk too. The recent stressors might have triggered your genetic predisposition.”

Amalia squeezed Reina’s hand and turned watery eyes on her. The doctors and nurse watched her with that emotionless-but-not look.

Reina stared at them all. “So you think I’m crazy.”

“I wouldn’t say—”

“Schizophrenia means I’m crazy. That’s what you mean. It means I’m nuts. It means I can’t be trusted and I don’t deserve to be in society—”

Dr. Nasin’s expression tightened. “We would really want to work on the negative connotation you have of the term. This isn’t something you can belittle or dismiss by a word. We’re talking about a human being who is diagnosed with an illness, not someone to hate or fear. If you are diagnosed with schizophrenia or any other illness, it doesn’t affect in any way what you deserve; as with anyone and everyone else, you deserve compassion and kindness and help when you need it. Which is what we are here to provide.”

“But this is crazy, not me!” Reina jerked on her hand but was unable to pull from Amalia’s hold. Her gaze darted all around instead. “This is—this is nuts! You’re saying all this based on some woman I don’t even… I mean, my information could be wrong. I didn’t even reach out to her. I don’t know her, I only have to believe you randomly know her even though… And anyway, she might not be my mother and if she isn’t, all this genetic stuff doesn’t mean anything.”

“You look exactly like her, Reina; exactly like her at your age. And the things you’re saying, the way you’re acting…” The other doctor shook his head. “It’s just like her, too.”

“But that doesn’t even… How the hell would you randomly know some lady I just learned of recently?”

For so many years she had wondered about her family; why she’d been given up, what was wrong with her that her own mother didn’t want her, what she would say when she found her. Dreamed about maybe being long lost royalty, or maybe her mother was an international spy who had to give her up for her protection, or maybe she had died in childbirth and never would have wanted to give her away but had to because she was dead. So many possibilities she had run through in her mind all these years, even when she didn’t want to think about anything. So many things she’d wondered, so many theories she’d had, but never had she dreamed of anything like this.

She’d wanted the knowledge, the connection, but now she regretted ever learning that name.

After all, what did a mother mean against all this madness?

“When you’re feeling up to it, we would really like you to talk to one of our therapists—”

“I’m not crazy. She was there. I swear she was. She got off the bus and… And she said…”

Dr. Nasin laid a gentle hand on Reina’s shoulder. “The hallucinations feel very real, Reina, but that doesn’t mean they are. But you needn’t worry. If anything, it’s good this came up how it did. We know your genetic history. We can find out what’s happening and whatever it is, we can get you help.”

“No.” Reina tried to pull the cords off her, the lines out of her veins. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t need help. I’m fine. I just want to leave—”

“I’m sorry, Reina.” The doctor stopped her with firm but gentle pressure. “But we can’t let you go. You’re on a hold.”

“A hold?”

“We need to evaluate you; to make sure you’re safe for yourself, and…”

And safe for society. The words were not said aloud but they were there, just as deafening nonetheless.

Reina felt a helpless hopelessness rise within her. She looked between all those pitying eyes and felt her own well up with tears.

“But I want to go home.”

“You can’t, Reina. I’m sorry.” Dr. Nasin stepped back, ignoring the way Amalia sniffled and gripped Reina harder, and how Reina couldn’t stop the tears tracking silently down her cheeks now, too.

The doctors turned, talked amongst each other about transferring Reina to the psych ward for evaluation, about setting up appointments and looking into medication, and then they were telling Amalia that no matter what permission Reina thought she gave, she might not be in her right mind so Amalia had to go now, too, just until it was safe, just until everything was figured out.

Amalia didn’t want to leave but she did. Holding onto Reina’s hand until they were too far apart; their fingers catching and slipping against each other only to fall away. Her bright brown eyes looking back one more time, her chin quivering with her need not to cry in front of Reina; an expression Reina knew meant her sister would bawling the whole way home.

This was her new reality; decisions made for her because society deemed she couldn’t be trusted.

Because she was crazy.

She’d been wrong before: This wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare.

+ + +

The buzzing wouldn’t leave her brain. The medication they gave her made her feel off; like this wasn’t her reality. She didn’t want this to be real so she wished it wasn’t, yet every time the meds started to wear off she felt her body reconnecting with her mind, and she focused on her surroundings, and she knew this was her own version of hell.

They told her there was nothing wrong with being crazy. That she was sick, she just needed medication, she just needed to talk, she just needed to learn to cope, and all would be okay.

Objectively, if this was about another person, she would have agreed. She would have told them not to hate themselves or be ashamed, that it was just the way they were born. The same way she shouldn’t hate herself for being born a lesbian, that it was just how she was and there was nothing wrong with it. For a mental illness, they needed help; for sexuality, they needed to believe in themselves. But either way they craved acceptance, both internally and externally. There was nothing wrong with that; it was all very human.

She would have said that to others, but she couldn’t say it to herself. It was too much all at once; losing Rosa, finding her biological mother’s name, seeing the woman who turned out to be a hallucination, learning her mother was crazy and thus so was she, nearly getting herself killed, being deemed a danger to herself. Being brought to this place, remanded into their custody until they could clear her.

It wasn’t forever, they told her, because it couldn’t be. The law wouldn’t allow that loss of civil liberty for too long, and there were others who probably needed this space more. But the law allowed it for a time, because they said she made that guy crash, and they said they could have criminally charged her but they weren’t going to, all things considered. Since she was crazy now, that didn’t make for good prosecution when she thought she was being a Good Samaritan helping out a crash victim. Stay here, they said, stay as long as we can make you, and the courts will look kindly on you, and you can return home eventually, safer and healthier and not a danger at large.

She had become someone described in words from warning signs.

Danger. Keep Out of Reach.

She sat in a corner of the community room as often as she could, staring at the wall sometimes, staring into her soul many others. She tried to figure out where it all went wrong, and every time it came back to Rosa. Sweet, insecure Rosa. Terrified of being herself, terrified of allowing Reina to love her, terrified of how much she loved Reina in return.

Did I kill her? Reina had wondered every day since she’d come home to find Rosa’s body swinging in the garage.

Maybe I pushed her. Maybe she wasn’t ready.

Maybe it would have been safer if we’d broken up.

I should have let her leave.

I shouldn’t have told her love could overcome anything.

I killed her.

I murdered her by loving her.

“Why are you crying?”

It was the old man who came into this room sometimes when she was there; hair white against his deep skin, eyes always searching her out when she wanted to be alone. He was kind but he had to be crazy if he was here. She tried to avoid everyone, so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge how messed up everything had become.

“I don’t want to talk,” she managed. Her throat was clogged and tight, her nose stuffy and changing the pitch of her voice.

“Come on, now, you know you can talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” and here she paused, because she couldn’t remember what he’d said his name was.

“They call me Jamaica,” he said, “but you can call me Jami.”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Jami. Please, just. Leave me alone.”

He proceeded to completely ignore her request. He pulled a chair over, making a god-awful screech on the floor along the way, and dropped down into it. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and with his kind eyes searched out her gaze once more. She tried to keep looking away. It was hard; his presence felt magnetic, mostly because he was the one person here who kept seeking her out, kept trying to make her talk, kept trying to be there for her even when she didn’t want him to be.

“Why do you want to be alone? What are you thinking, making you cry like that?”

Her breath sped. She felt her own chin and lips wobbling, trying to hold in the pain, the guilt. She stared hard at the wall, focusing on a chip in the paint.

“You can talk to me. I won’t tell anyone.”

“What do you care? Just leave me alone.”

“Now, see, that’s the one thing I can’t do. Not when you’re looking that sad, like you don’t want to be alive.”

A sob wrenched out of her. She tried to hold it in; gripped the arms of the chair like her life depended on it, and maybe it did.

“Oh, Reina,” he said sadly, and placed a comforting hand on her knee. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

“How will it be okay?” Her words were hardly formed in the surge of her tears and the thinning of her throat. She gasped in breath, her body buzzing for a whole different reason now: the summer-charged-storm of withheld emotions and deeply buried grief. “How? I’m here, I’m stuck—” She jerked a hand around then brought it back down to the chair; gritted her teeth and tried to breathe, breathe, but she was so upset it was difficult. “I’m stuck here and I’m—I’m fucking crazy and I don’t have… I don’t have anyone—anything home waiting for me and I… And I just wish, I wish…”

“What do you wish?”

“I wish I’d died with her.”

The admission made her cry even harder; great, wracking gasps that dragged into ghost-town-lungs and pushed back out like miniature explosions. She curled forward, back curved and arms held tight in against her stomach and she bawled like a child. All the emotions she’d been bottling up, everything she’d tried to ignore or dismiss or forget, everything she hadn’t wanted to be true but was, it all came out with a vengeance. She couldn’t stop crying, and Jami was there, a comforting hand rubbing up and down her back, pulling hair back from her eyes, telling her quietly again, again, it would be okay.

It felt like a portion of forever before she finally got her breath back in her control, until she could see through the tears, and she could find a way to talk again. Jami waited for her, and when she wiped away her tears and snot, he was there to steady her as she sat up. An anchor when she needed something, anything, to keep her from falling right back into that heartache.

He smiled at her, something knowing and sad. “It’s okay,” he said again, and pushed some hair from her eyes. “You’ll be okay.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.” Her voice still trembled, and she just now realized so too did her body.

“You will,” he said confidently. “I know you will.”

She let out a soft scoff and scrubbed again at her nose. “Yeah, right. And what else do you know?”

He studied her. “I knew your mother.”

She pulled back, ready to stand up and storm off, but the way he watched her, the way he didn’t look at her with that pity like the others, made her pause. She glared instead. “I haven’t heard a single good thing about her yet. I wish I’d never learned her name.”

“Don’t say that. Nev was a good woman.”

“A crazy woman.” She gestured at herself. “Like me, apparently. Except worse, if everyone knows her by frickin name in this place.”

“Nev was a lot of things, but crazy isn’t one of them.”

“Are you kidding me? She was schizophrenic and passed that along to me. I overheard people talking about her; they said she used to go around the place raving even when she was medicated. They said nothing worked on her and she only got worse.”

“Maybe,” Jami said carefully, “it’s because they were medicating something that didn’t exist.”

“I think it’s pretty damn obvious her schizophrenia existed.”

“Why?”

“Because! Because she hallucinated, and—”

“Reina, if there’s one thing you should know about your mother, it’s this: she was a good woman who tried to help others. Where these doctors think they failed isn’t where they failed at all. They shouldn’t have given her pills from the start; she didn’t need them. Their medication was the only thing wrong with her.”

Reina let out a harsh half-laugh. “How can you say that, if you actually knew her? I barely know anything about her but the stories I’ve heard just from the times people thought I couldn’t overhear… It’s ridiculous the shit she pulled in here.”

Jami looked past Reina toward the open door into the hallway. Reina started to look over her shoulder but he reached out and touched her knee again, refocusing her attention on him.

“Listen, Reina. Think about it for a second. What if they weren’t hallucinations? What if they really existed, but no one else could see or hear them?”

Reina laughed. “That’s a fucking hallucination, dude. I don’t know what dictionary you’ve been using.”

Jami watched her seriously. “Just because not everyone experiences it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Is the fact you like women not real just because some other women like men or something else? They don’t experience your attraction when they look at a woman, so does that mean you don’t feel that way?”

Reina frowned. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“That’s how people are born.”

“So is this.”

“Yeah, born with a predisposition for insanity—”

“No.” Jami squeezed her knee and leaned in, his eyes overtaking her soul. “Listen to me. You. Are not. Schizophrenic. If you were, it would be okay. You’d need help, you’d get it here. It would affect your life like this does, in different but similar ways. But you aren’t. Your mother wasn’t. These people, they’ve misdiagnosed you.”

Reina leaned back slowly, a mess of emotions shifting through her; hope and wariness and disbelief. “Why are you saying this? I just started to come to terms…”

“That’s why. Because I can’t have you believing them, giving up, ignoring everything. Reina, your mother spent all her energy helping those who needed help. The voiceless, the sightless—”

“She helped people who were mute or blind?”

“Not always, but you’re right, that was poor wording.” He leaned back, jaw working, lips turning down. “I mean, people who needed help. And you’re the same way, but those who are drawn to you are going to be different. People who felt different than others; invisible. Outcasts who always felt like they didn’t exist for one reason or another; like no one noticed them, who feel like you will understand.”

Thank you for noticing.

The woman in the sun dress, the smile, the catch of light on her umbrella. The memory came bidden too quickly for Reina to stop it, even with her fogged up mind. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly.

None of this made any sense.

“I don’t get what you want me to do. How am I supposed to help people like that, especially stuck in here like this?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Reina. You can do some good in here, but you can do even more out there. You need to get out of here. Once you’re free, you’ll feel better.”

“Well. Obviously.”

“I mean you’ll be able to accept everything more easily when you aren’t stuck in here, your mind and judgment clouded.”

“Right. And how do you propose I get out of here?”

“Convince them you’re better. Convince them you’re safe.”

“If I knew how to do that, I would have already—”

“I’ll help you. I’ll give you everything you need to know, everything your mother did to get out of here.”

Reina eyed him distrustfully. “What’s with you and her, anyway? Why do you care so much?”

He smiled at her. “Because she was the only one who cared about me.”

“The doctors didn’t?”

“The doctors didn’t believe her.”

“About what?”

His eyes bored into her. “What if they aren’t hallucinations, Reina, but are people who used to be? People who need help moving on, or who need a message passed on to the living?”

She leaned all the way back in her chair and slowly moved her leg out from under his hand. “Whaaat are you talking about? Are you talking about… ghosts?”

“You can think of them that way if you want, or spirits, or a residual soul, or whatever you need. A person who was who isn’t the same person anymore, but who still remains caught in this land. A person who needs someone to notice. Someone to care. Someone to help.”

“What the hell kind of trippy drugs do they have you on, Jami?”

“The woman in the yellow dress was caught in a loop. She was dead long before you met her. She rode that bus over and over, replaying her death, waiting for someone to break the chain. She just needed someone to see her. To know she existed. And you did.”

“What?” Reina whispered.

“Natalie Lindstrom. Look her up later, if you don’t believe me. She died seven years ago. When you see her photo, you’ll know.”

“What the fuck—”

“What are you doing, Reina?”

Reina jumped at the new voice and looked over her shoulder. One of the nurses stood next to her, that pitying smile frozen on her lips, her hands braced against her knees as she bent over.

“Oh,” Reina said, too startled to come up with a good cover that wouldn’t make Jami look bat shit crazy too. “Uh. We were just…” She gestured between herself and Jami. “Talking. About nothing. I mean, buses?”

The smile on the nurse’s face held that particular cant that Reina was coming to know all too well. She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She shouldn’t have mentioned buses. They were going to think she was regressing or something.

“I see,” the nurse said after a moment. She looked past Reina. “You and…?”

“Jami. I mean, Jamaica. You have to know him.” When she looked at Reina without saying anything, Reina turned to Jami in confusion. “What, do you have a different set of nurses in your wing?”

Jami just watched her and then shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just needed you to believe.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Reina,” the nurse said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get you an appointment tomorrow morning with the doctor, okay? I’m sure we can get this all figured out. We just need to change your medication.”

“What? Why?”

“It doesn’t seem to be working as well as we would like, but don’t worry. We can adjust and everything will be fine.”

“Yeah but, why are you saying that? I’ve been fine. I haven’t seen the woman or anything. I haven’t seen anyone. I really think we can keep me at my level and you can just let me go…”

“Reina, do you see Jami right now?”

Reina’s throat closed. The pit in her stomach grew. She turned slowly to Jami.

“You aren’t crazy,” he told her. “I’m real. Or, I was. Philosophers can debate what I am right now.”

“No,” she whispered but she didn’t know if it was to herself, to Jami, or to the nurse.

“It’s okay,” the nurse said. “We’ll get this all figured out. For now, why don’t we go back to your room? You should rest.”

“No,” Reina said again to herself in horror even as she let the nurse guide her up out of the chair, and lead her across the community room.

“I’ll be here when you need me, Reina,” Jami called out as she walked away. “It’s a lot right now, I know, but I’ll be here.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look back. She wanted to ask the nurse if she really didn’t see him, really couldn’t hear him, but she knew she didn’t by the look on the nurse’s face and the way she held her so she couldn’t suddenly take off running.

Crazy.

She was crazy.

They turned into the hallway but Reina still heard Jami’s last shout; words that chilled her to the core:

“You’re going to need me when they come for you! Just like they did for your mom.”

“What the fuck?” Reina jerked out of the nurse’s hold and twirled around, shouting back at the room. “What the fuck kind of—who?”

“Come on, Reina,” the nurse said more firmly, putting an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay. Let’s just keep walking.”

Jami was standing in front of Reina when she turned around. She jumped, nearly disrupting the nurse’s hold. “What—”

“They aren’t all bad,” Jami said intently, “and they aren’t all good. You’ll have to learn the difference.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Come on, Reina.” The nurse pulled on her, getting her going. Jami didn’t move his feet, but he remained right in front of Reina the whole time they walked.

It sent chills down her spine.

“There’s a lot you have to learn, Reina. I’m sorry if I scared you. It wasn’t my intent. But I needed you to know we’re real. And I need you to know they’ll be drawn to you. When they come, and they will, you have to be ready.”

“How?”

“You’ll have to learn to help us without letting the living know. They’ll think you’re crazy like they do now. And you’ll have to learn to protect yourself.” She opened her mouth but he held up a hand, shaking his head. “That’s enough for now. I should have left before she came, but I needed you to see that no matter how real we are to you, no matter how real we are, period, they can’t feel us, hear us, see us. And more than anything, I needed you to not give up on yourself. I need you to live, Reina. We all need you to live.”

"Why?"

"Because you can't help us if you're dead. For those of us caught, only the living can bridge that gap.”

"Here we go." The nurse led Reina into her room. "Nice and easy. Let's lay down for now, why don't we? Everything will feel right in the morning."

“And,” Jami said from the doorway, “if you die, I'll never know what happened to your mother."

“What happened—”

“Be careful, Reina. I’ll be back, and so will they.”

“We’ll see you in the morning.” The nurse’s words nearly overlapped Jami’s as she walked to the door. She stopped almost on top of him, completely unaware of how his gaze drilled into Reina over her shoulder. She smiled the smile of the woman on the bus, of the doctors diagnosing her, of Amalia trying to pretend everything was okay, of Jami telling her she wasn’t crazy even when everything else said she was. Her hand shifted on the doorknob and she stepped back. “Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bed spirits bite,” Jami said with a flash of his teeth.

Was that a poorly timed joke, or an actual warning? She wouldn’t know, because the nurse closed the door on the only connection Reina had to the living and maybe the dead.

The room fell into darkness and a peculiar, unnerving silence.

Reina had never felt so alone.

#reciprocal #writing #serial stories #the start of spooky month!#tw suicide #idk what to tag this #btw I know this story isn't perfect #but I was happy to have written a totally new story #a short story (for me)#and have something to share to kick off spooky month :)#I would eventually like to be able to improve the editing even more #but I thought for getting it out today it was okay #hopefully it doesn't offend anyone on anything #if it does I'm sorry :(#it wasn't intentional

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