#which ties into cobs being a piece of shit

[heavy-buddy]

cobs is so autistic with lots of internalized ableism coded

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

Random Review #3: Sleepwalkers (1992) and “Sleep Walk” (1959)

I. Sleepwalkers (1992) I couldn’t sleep last night so I started watching a trashy B-movie penned by Stephen King specifically for the screen called Sleepwalkers (1992). Simply put, the film is an unmitigated disaster. A piece of shit. But it didn’t need to be. That’s what’s so annoying about it. By 1992 King was a grizzled veteran of the silver screen, with more adaptations under his belt than any other author of his cohort. Puzo had the Godfather films (1972 and 1974, respectively), sure, but nothing else. Leonard Gardner had Fat City (1972), a movie I love, but Gardner got sucked into the Hollywood scene of cocaine and hot tub parties and never published another novel, focusing instead on screenplays for shitty TV shows like NYPD Blue. After Demon Seed (1977), a movie I have seen and disliked, nobody would touch Dean Koontz’s stuff with a ten foot pole, which is too bad because The Voice of the Night, a 1980 novel about two young pals, one of whom is a psychopath trying to convince the other to help him commit murder, would make a terrific movie. But Koontz’s adaptations have been uniformly awful. The made-for-TV film starring John C McGinley, 1997′s Intensity, is especially bad. There are exceptions, but Stephen King has been lucky enough to avoid the fate of his peers. Big name directors have tackled his work, from Stanley Kubrick to Brian De Palma. King even does a decent job of acting in Pet Semetary (1989), in his own Maximum Overdrive (1986) and in George Romero’s Creepshow (1982), where he plays a yokel named Jordy Verril who gets infected by a meteorite that causes green weeds to grow all over his body. Many have criticized King’s over-the-top performance in that flick, but for me King perfectly nails the campy and comical tone that Romero was going for. The dissolves in Creepshow literally come right off the pages of comics, so people expecting a subtle Ordinary People-style turn from King had clearly walked into the wrong theatre. Undoubtedly Creepshow succeeds at what it set out to do. I’m not sure Sleepwalkers succeeds though, unless the film’s goal was to get me to like cats even more than I already do. But I already love cats a great deal. Here’s my cat Cookie watching me edit this very blog post. 

And here’s one of my other cats, Church, named after the cat that reanimates and creeps out Louis and Ellie in Pet Sematary. Photo by @ScareAlex.

SPOILER ALERT: Do not keep reading if you plan on watching Sleepwalkers and want to find out for yourself what happens.

Stephen King saw many of his novels get adapted in the late 1970s and 80s: Carrie, The Shining, Firestarter, Christine, Cujo, and the movie that spawned the 1950s nostalgia industrial complex, Stand By Me, but Sleepwalkers was the first time he wrote a script specifically for the screen rather than adapting a novel that already existed. Maybe that’s why it’s so fucking bad. Stephen King is a novelist, gifted with a novelist’s rich imagination. He’s prone to giving backstories to even the most peripheral characters - think of Joe Chamber’s alcoholic neighbour Gary Pervier in the novel Cujo, who King follows for an unbelievable number of pages as the man stumbles drunkenly around his house spouting his catch phrase “I don’t give a shit,” drills a hole through his phone book so he can hang it from a string beside his phone, complains about his hemorrhoids getting “as big as golfballs” (I’m not joking), and just generally acts like an asshole until a rabid Cujo bounds over, rips his throat out, and he bleeds to death. In the novel Pervier’s death takes more than a few pages, but it makes for fun reading. You hate the man so fucking much that watching him die feels oddly satisfying. In the movie, though, his death occurs pretty quickly, and in a darkened hallway, so it’s hard to see what’s going on aside from Gary’s foot trembling. And Pervier’s “I don’t give a shit” makes sense when he’s drilling a hole in the phone book, not when he’s about to be savagely attacked by a rabid St Bernard. There’s just less room for back story in movies. In a medium that demands pruning and chiseling and the “less is more” dictum, King’s writing takes a marked turn for the worse. King is a prose maximalist, who freely admits to “writing to outrageous lengths” in his novels, listing It, The Stand, and The Tommyknockers as particularly egregious examples of literary logorrhea. He is not especially equipped to write concisely. This weakness is most apparent in Sleepwalkers’ dialogue, which sounds like it was supposed to be snappy and smart, like something Aaron Sorkin would write, but instead comes off like an even worse Tango & Cash, all bad jokes and shitty puns. More on those bad jokes later. First, the plot.

Sleepwalkers is about a boy named Charles and his mother Mary who travel around the United States killing and feeding off the lifeforce of various unfortunate people (if this sounds a little like The True Knot in Doctor Sleep, you’re not wrong. But self-plagiarism is not a crime). Charles and Mary are shapeshifting werewolf-type creatures called werecats, a species with its very own Wikipedia page. Wikipedia confers legitimacy dont’cha know, so lets assume werecats are real beings. According to said page, a werecat, “also written in a hyphenated form as were-cat) is an analogy to ‘werewolf’ for a feline therianthropic creature.” I’m gonna spell it with the hyphen from now on because “werecats” just looks like a typo. Okay? Okay.

Oddly enough, the were-cats in Sleepwalkers are terrified of cats. Actual cats. For the were-cats, cute kittens = kryptonite. When they see a cat or cats plural, this happens to them:

^ That is literally a scene from the movie. Charles is speeding when a cop pulls alongside him and bellows at him to pull over. Ever the rebel, Charles flips the cop the finger. But the cop has a cat named Clovis in his car, and when the cat pops up to have a look at the kid (see below), Charles shapeshifts first into a younger boy, then into whatever the fuck that is in the above screenshot.

Now, the were-cats aversion to normal cats is confusing because one would assume a were-cat to be a more evolved (or perhaps devolved?) version of the typical house kitty. The fact that these were-cats are bipedal alone suggests an advantage over our furry four-legged friends, no? Kinda like if humans were afraid of fucking gorillas. Wait...we are scared of gorillas. And chimpanzees. And all apes really. Okay, maybe the conceit of the film isn’t so silly after all. The film itself, however, is about as silly as a bad horror movie can get. When the policeman gets back to precinct and describes the incident above (”his face turned into a blur”) he is roundly ridiculed because in movies involving the supernatural nobody believes in the supernatural until it confronts them. It’s the law, sorry. Things don’t end well for the cop. Or for the guy who gets murdered when the mom stabs him with...an ear of corn. Yes, an ear of corn. Somehow, the mother is able to jam corn on the cob through a man’s body, without crushing the vegetable or turning it into yellow mash. It’s pretty amazing. Here is a sample of dialog from that scene: Cop About To Die On The Phone to Precinct: There’s blood everywhere! *STAB* Murderous Mother: No vegetables, no dessert. That is actually a line in the movie. “No vegetables, no dessert.” It’s no “let off some steam, Bennett” but it’s close. Told ya I’d get back to the bad jokes. See, Mary and Charles are new in town and therefore seeking to ingratiate themselves by killing everyone who suspects them of being weird, all while avoiding cats as best they can. At one point Charles yanks a man’s hand off and tells him to "keep [his] hands to [him]self," giving the man back his severed bloody hand. Later on Charles starts dating a girl who will gradually - and I do mean gradually - come to realize her boyfriend is not a real person but in fact a were-cat. Eventually our spunky young protagonist - Madchen Amick, who fans of Twin Peaks will recognize as Shelly - and a team of cats led by the adorable Clovis- kill the were-cat shapeshifting things and the sleepy small town (which is named Travis for some reason) goes back to normal, albeit with a slightly diminished population. For those keeping score, that’s Human/Cat Alliance 1, Shapeshifting Were-cats 0. It is clear triumph for the felis catus/people team! Unless we’re going by kill count, in which case it is closer to Human/Cat Alliance 2, Were-cats 26. I arrived at this figure through my own notes but also through a helpful video that takes a comprehensive and complete “carnage count” of all kills in Sleepwalkers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmt-DroK6uA

II. Santo & Johnny “Sleep Walk” (1959) Because Sleepwalkers is decidedly not known for its good acting or its well-written screenplay, it is perhaps best known for its liberal and sometimes contrapuntal use of Santo & Johnny’s classic steel guitar song “Sleep Walk,” possibly the most famous (and therefore best) instrumental of the 20th century. Some might say “Sleep Walk” is tied for the #1 spot with “Green Onions” by Booker T & the M.G.’s and/or “Wipe Out” by The Surfaris, but I disagree. The Santo & Johnny song is #1 because of its incalculable influence on all subsequent popular music. 

I’m not saying “Wipe Out” didn't inspire a million imitators, both contemporaneously and even decades later…for example here’s a surf rock instrumental from 1999 called “Giant Cow" by a Toronto band called The Urban Surf Kings. The video was one of the first to be animated using Flash (and it shows):

So there are no shortage of surf rock bands, even now, decades after its emergence from the shores of California to the jukeboxes of Middle America. My old band Sleep for the Nightlife used to regularly play Rancho Relaxo with a surf rock band called the Dildonics, who I liked a great deal. There's even a Danish surf rock band called Baby Woodrose, whose debut album is a favourite of mine. They apparently compete for the title of Denmark’s biggest surf pop band with a group called The Setting Son. When a country that has no surfing culture and no beaches has multiple surf rock bands, it is safe to say the genre has attained international reach. As far as I can tell, there aren’t many bands out there playing Booker T & the M.G.’s inspired instrumental rock. Link Wray’s “Rumble” was released four years before “Green Onions.” But the influence of Santo and Johnny’s “Sleep Walk” is so ubiquitous as to be almost immeasurable. The reason for this is the sheer popularity of the song’s chord progression. If Santo and Johnny hadn’t written it first, somebody else would have, simply because the progression is so beautiful and easy on the ears and resolvable in a satisfying way. Have a listen to “Sleep Walk” first and then let’s check out some songs it directly inspired. 

The chords are C, A minor, F and G. Minor variations sometimes reverse the last two chords, but if it begins with C to A minor, you can bet it’s following the “Sleep Walk” formula, almost as if musicians influenced by the song are in the titular trance. When it comes to playing guitar, Tom Waits once said “your hands are like dogs, going to the same places they’ve been. You have to be careful when playing is no longer in the mind but in the fingers, going to happy places. You have to break them of their habits or you don’t explore; you only play what is confident and pleasing.” Not only is it comforting to play and/or hear what we already know, studies have shown that our brains actively resist new music, because it takes work to understand the new information and assimilate it into a pattern we are cogent of. It isn’t until the brain recognizes the pattern that it gives us a dopamine rush. I’m not much for Pitchfork anymore, but a recent article they posted does a fine job of discussing this phenomenon in greater detail.

Led Zeppelin’s “D’Yer Maker” uses the “Sleep Walk” riff prominently, anchored by John Bonham and John Paul Jones’ white-boy reggae beat: 

Here it is again with Del Shannon’s classic “Little Town Flirt.” I love Shannon’s falsetto at the end when he goes “you better run and hide now bo-o-oy.”

The Beatles “Happiness is a Warm Gun” uses the Sleep Walk progression, though not for the whole song. It goes into the progression at the bridge at 1:34: 

Tumblr won’t let me embed any more videos, so you’ll to travel to another tab to hear these songs, but Neil Young gets in on the act with his overlooked classic “Winterlong:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV6r66n3TFI On their 1996 EP Interstate 8 Modest Mouse pay direct homage by singing over their own rendition of the original Santo & Johnny version, right down to the weeping steel guitar part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT_PwXjCqqs The vocals are typical wispy whispered indie rock vocals, but I think they work, particularly the two different voices. They titled their version “Sleepwalking (Couples Only Dance Prom Night).”

Dwight Yoakam’s “Thousand Miles From Nowhere” makes cinematic use of it. This song plays over the credits of one of my all-time favourite movies, 1993′s Red Rock West feat. Nicolas Cage, Lara Flynn Boyle, Dennis Hopper, and J.T. Walsh https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tu3ypuKq8WE

“39″ is my favourite Queen song. I guess now I know why. It uses my fav chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kE8kGMfXaFU 

Blink 182 scored their first hit “Dammit” with a minor variation on the Sleep Walk chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sT0g16_LQaQ

Midwest beer drinkin bar rockers Connections scored a shoulda-been-a-hit with the fist-pumping “Beat the Sky:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSNRq0n_WYA You’d be hard pressed to find a weaker lead singer than this guy (save for me, natch), but they make it work. This one’s an anthem.

Spoon, who have made a career out of deconstructing rock n’ roll, so that their songs sometimes sound needlessly sparse (especially “The Ghost of You Lingers,” which takes minimalism to its most extreme...just a piano being bashed on staccato-style for four minutes), so it should surprise nobody that they re-arrange the Sleep Walk chords on their classic from Gimme Fiction, “I Summon You:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teXA8N3aF9M I love that opening line: remember the weight of the world was a sound that we used to buy? I think songwriter Britt Daniel is talking about buying albums from the likes of Pearl Jam or Smashing Pumpkins, any of those grunge bands with pessimistic worldviews. There are a million more examples. I remember seeing some YouTube video where a trio of gross douchebros keep playing the same progression while singing a bunch of hits over it. I don’t like the smarmy way they do it, making it seem like artists are lazy and deliberately stealing. I don’t think it’s plagiarism to use this progression. And furthermore, tempo and production make all the difference. Take “This Magic Moment” for example. There's a version by Jay & the Americans and one by Ben E King & the Drifters. I’ve never been a fan of those shrieking violins or fiddles that open the latter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bacBKKgc4Uo The Jay & the Americans version puts the guitar riff way in the forefront, which I like a lot more. The guitar plays the entire progression once before the singing starts and the band joins in: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKfASw6qoag

Each version has its own distinctive feel. They are pretty much two different songs. Perhaps the most famous use of the Sleep Walk progression is “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers, which is one of my favourite songs ever. The guy who chose to let Bobby Hatfield sing this one by himself must have kicked himself afterwards when it became a hit, much bigger than "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling."https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiiyq2xrSI0

What can you say about “Unchained Melody” that hasn’t already been said? God, that miraculously strong vocal, the way the strings (and later on, brass horns) are panned way over to the furthest reaches the left speaker while the drums and guitar are way over in the right, with the singing smack dab in the middle creates a kind of distance and sharp clarity that has never been reproduced in popular music, like seeing the skyscrapers of some distant city after an endless stretch of highway. After listening to “Unchained Melody,” one has to wonder: can that progression ever be improved upon? Can any artist write something more haunting, more beautiful, more uplifting than that? The “need your love” crescendo hits so fucking hard, as both the emotional and the sonic climax of the song, which of course is no accident...the strings descending and crashing like a waterfall of sound, it gets me every fucking time. Legend has it that King George II was so moved by the “Hallelujah” section of Handel’s “Messiah” that he stood up, he couldn't help himself, couldn't believe what he was hearing. I get that feeling with all my favourite songs. "1979." "Unchained Melody." "In The Still of the Night." "Digital Bath." "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?" "Interstate." "Liar's Tale." “Gimme Shelter.” The list goes on and on. Music is supposed to move us.

King George II stood because he was moved to do so. Music may be our creation, but it isn't our subordinate. All those sci-fi stories warning about technology growing beyond our control aren’t that far-fetched. Music is our creation but its power lies beyond our control. We are subordinate to music, helpless against its power and might, its urgency and vitality and beauty. There have been many times in my life when I have been so obsessed with a particular song that I pretty much want to live inside of it forever. A house of sound. I remember detoxing from heroin and listening to Grimes “Realiti” on repeat for twelve hours. Detoxing from OxyContin and listening to The Beach Boys “Dont Worry Baby” over and over. Or just being young and listening to “Tonight Tonight” over and over and over, tears streaming from my eyes in that way you cry when you’re a kid because you just feel so much and you don’t know what to do with the intensity of those feelings. It is precisely because we are so moved by music that we keep creating it. And in the act of that creation we are free. There are no limits to that freedom, which is why bands time and time again return to the well-worn Sleep Walk chord progression and try to make something new from it. Back in 2006, soon after buying what was then the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, I found myself playing the album’s closing track over and over. I loved the chorus and I loved the way it collapses into a lo-fi demo at the very end, stripping away the studio sheen and...not to be too punny, showing its bones (the album title is Show Your Bones). Later on I would realize that the song, called “Turn Into,” uses the Sleep Walk chord progression. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exqCFoPiwpk

It’s just like, what Waits said, our hands goes to where we are familiar. And so do our ears, which is why jazz often sounds so unpleasant to us upon first listen. Or Captain Beefheart. But it’s worth the effort to discover new stuff, just as it’s worth the effort to try and write it. I recently lamented on this blog that music to me now is more about remembrance than discovery, but I’m still only 35 years old. I’m middle-aged right now (I don’t expect to live past 70, not with the lifestyle I’ve been living). There’s still a whole other half life to find new music and love and leave it for still newer stuff. It’s worth the challenge, that moment of inner resistance we feel when confronted with something new and challenging and strange sounding. The austere demands of adult life, rent and routine, take so much of our time. I still make time for creative pursuits, but I don’t really have much time for discovery, for seeking out new music. But I’ve resolved to start making more time. A few years ago I tried to listen to and like Trout Mask Replica but I couldn’t. I just didn’t get what was going on. It sounded like a bunch of mistakes piled on top of each other. But then a few days ago I was writing while listening to music, as I always do, and YouTube somehow landed on Lick My Decals Off, Baby. I didn’t love what I was hearing but I was intrigued enough to keep going. And now I really like this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMnd9dvb3sA&pbjreload=101 Another example I’ll give is the rare Robert Pollard gem “Prom Is Coming.” The first time I heard this song, it sounded like someone who can’t play guitar messing around, but the more I heard it the more I realized there’s a song there. It’s weird and strange, but it’s there. The lyrics are classic Pollard: Disregard injury and race madly out of the universe by sundown. Pollard obviously has a special place in his heart for this track. He named one of his many record labels Prom Is Coming Records and he titled the Boston Spaceships best-of collection Out of the Universe By Sundown. I don’t know if I’ll ever become a Captain Beefheart megafan but I can hear that the man was doing something very strange and, at times, beautiful. And anyway, why should everything be easy? Aren’t some challenges worth meeting for the experience waiting on the other side of comprehension or acceptance? I try to remember this now whenever I’m first confronted with new music, instead of vetoing it right away. Most of my favourite bands I was initially resistant to when I first heard them. Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss, Guided by Voices, Spoon, Heavy Times. All bands I didn’t like at first.  I don’t wanna sleepwalk through life, surrounding myself only with things I have already experienced. I need to stay awake. Because soon enough I’ll be asleep forever. We need to try everything we can before the Big Sleep comes to take us back to the great blankness, the terrible question mark that bookends our lives.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 213: blahblahblahSIXQUIRKS

Previously on BnHA: Baby Ochako stole the show for a few pages as Ochako thought back to her childhood and the first time she saw a hero in action and wanted to be like them and help people who looked like they were in trouble. And more recently during the Basement arc, she saw Deku struggling and thought, “who protects the heroes when they need protecting?” So with that nice segue, we cut back to the present, with Deku freaking out and Ochako trying to calm him down and eventually realizing he had no control. So she called on Shinsou to brainwash him, which he did by telling Deku he wanted to fight him again. And miraculously the brainwashing worked, and the quirk died down and retreated back into Deku’s arm. But then Deku found himself back in the OFA Happy Funky Dream Time Zone, being accosted by some beefy aggressive bald dude with goggles. He told Deku he’d gotten it all wrong, and accused him of not listening. “We told you that you’re not alone!” He said Deku’s quirk wasn’t something he could use casually while distracted any more, and told him to pull himself together.

Today on BnHA: Aggressive Bald Dude explains that the crazy new power Deku just used is actually his quirk, Blackwhip. To make a long story short, Deku can use all of the quirks from the previous wielders of OFA. Something something OFA is getting stronger, something something Quirk Singularity blah blah blah. Anyway, so Deku accidentally activated Blackwhip due to his strong feelings and his wanting to capture Monoma. Baldy warns Deku that if he wields his power in anger, it will respond accordingly, and that he needs to have control. He tells Deku he will eventually manifest six different quirks, and that he is the one who will complete One for All. Then he wishes him good luck and vanishes. Deku wakes up in the aftermath of all this strangeness, only to immediately be attacked by Monoma, who knows an opening when he sees one I guess. Everyone else from Teams A and B chooses this moment to arrive as well, and things quickly escalate into a melee battle. Shinsou challenges Deku, and we cut to the teachers who are watching nearby. A thoughtful-looking Aizawa tells the other teachers to let the battle continue.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 224, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

lol

Kirishima you never told me your ancestor was a bearer of OFA

I really like this guy. what’s your name dude

(ETA: jesus Horikoshi would it kill you to name such an important character though. at least let us know which number he is. give us something)

and this conversation just keeps getting better!

“I don’t have a mouth.” “oh shit you don’t have a mouth. well THAT IS JUST FINE don’t you worry”

so Deku can see this guy much more clearly than OFA Primo in his previous dream. and on top of that, he’s now fully aware that it’s not a dream at all

also I really like TryHarder’s face. it’s just a nice face

he seems tough but kind

ahhhhh it’s another image of the previous 8

(ETA: so is that really you up there, Katsuki? is a part of you “actually alive inside One for All”, deep inside Izuku’s soul or whatever? just waiting for Deku to finally figure this shit out? so you can finally pop up at a critical plot moment and be all “hah, so you can finally see me. took you long enough, you damn nerd” and then give him Mystical Advice or some shit I guess? what level of shipping is that. when a piece of character A’s soul or will or whatever is literally chilling out inside character B’s soul. honestly I still don’t even know what to think about this fucking theory, because I would lose my damn shit. it just seems so ridiculously catered to Everything I Want that even pondering it feels absurdly self-indulgent. and how would it even work. ahghghg. anyways.)

there had better be at least one more girl besides Shimura, otherwise I’m gonna go on a ranting spree just like the JP Hero Billboard Charts all over again

I wonder when Toshinori’s outline will become more visible

and also when will Deku get to talk to Shimura?? her vestige has been clear right from the start. TALK TO HER AND GET THE GOSSIP ON HER SON! YOUR DAD!!

she probably knows so many embarrassing things. this is the true reason why All Might didn’t tell him about this shit back at the sports festival

okay so TryHarder is starting to fade now and he’s like “oh shit looks like I’m on a time limit”

so he’s telling Deku to listen up

YESSSSSSSSS

I wonder how many people guessed this before it was revealed. Horikoshi did an excellent job making it look like his power was just out of control again, honestly. this probably came out of left field for a lot of people

since I unfortunately can’t give you a genuine shocked reaction now, let me instead try to summarize my response when I first came across this spoiler.

DRAMATIZATION:

me: [reading through a post that didn’t seem to contain any spoilers that I didn’t already know] haha what a fine post

post: [gets to a part where it’s like “warning, spoilers” and then just JUMPS RIGHT INTO THE SPOILER RIGHT AWAY without any further ado]

me: [not understanding what just happened yet] wait what

post: blahblahblahSIXQUIRKS

me: [still hasn’t fully processed yet due to my sleepy brain] huh what. six

me: ...

me: wait WHAT

and at this point my brain finally kicked into gear, and it just hit me all at once that (1) I knew there was gonna be more OFA stuff coming up (back when I did the recap for Deku VS Shinsou way back in the sports festival arc, someone mentioned that the manga had gotten into the OFA Past Avatars shit again recently -- this was back in like September -- and so it was kind of in the back of my mind ever since then, just waiting to be remembered at a critical moment), (2) said OFA stuff would presumably consist of him learning to communicate with the Ghosts of OFAs Past in precisely the way that All Might said he couldn’t, (3) I also knew from a comment in this post that there was some power-up coming up for Deku at some point that was considered a spoiler, and lastly (4) the math added up. this last part just came to me in a whoosh. I have no idea how it all came together so quickly. but some very logical part of me waltzed in holding a corn cob pipe and was all, “you know, if Deku is the 9th OFA user and he, All Might, and OFA Prime didn’t have quirks*, that means there were six remaining OFA users who presumably did,” and I was like “NOOOOOOOOO WAAAAAAY?!” and I started freaking the fuck out. so anyway that’s how it all happened god bless

(ETA*: okay so technically Prime did, but his quirk is OFA, so. like. doesn’t count.)

anyways I really went off on a spiel there. let’s drag our focus back to the present day can we please

so TH is all “our quirks all merged with the core of OFA and have just been sitting here chilling inside it for like aaaaages”

gotta say the visual of this helps a lot. so the quirks are in that tiny lil marble in the middle of Primo’s back, buried deep within all of those flames of power

oh shit wait, did we say “tiny lil”

hmm. is this that quirk singularity bullshit that Seiji was talking about all the way back in the Babysitting Arc. I jump around between translations so much that I didn’t notice until very recently that the word “singularity” was being used in odd ways, and that it was also the word used to describe that phenomenon of quirks evolving until they’re beyond the user’s control

so is this. that

so TH says that One for All itself is growing. but like, look at how he says it though

that is a lot of ominous emphasis there

and Deku’s thinking “but why? what caused this?”

which, I’m glad he thought that, because here I was thinking it was just some natural phenomenon that All Might and Shimura for whatever reason never unlocked. but just like that he’s made me realize that this might be tied in to AFO somehow. didn’t he say just a couple chapters ago that he could hear the voice of his dead bro?

(ETA: yeah, listen guys, there is some shady shit going on here. part of it is the quirk singularity stuff, I’m sure, but there’s a lot of suspiciously coincidental stuff happening. but I will tell you more about my thoughts on this in a separate post, I think, because it’s something I’ve been pondering for a while now and I think it’s better suited to its own theory post.)

oh but TH says that right before the power erupted out of him, Deku was probably thinking something like “GETTIM”

and Deku’s sweating and thinking that he was indeed thinking about capturing Monoma

yeah to beat the shit out of him for insulting your boyfriend

so presumably he activated this quirk somehow which is meant to be a capture quirk?

OOOH

IT’S SEXY

that was honest to god my first thought. look at how elegant it is when he uses it. nothing like Deku’s out-of-control Venom rampage

here. this is what it reminds me of

ah, I see. so TH says that OFA’s power has been added to the black whip quirk now, so now it’s like it’s on steroids

AHH

DON’T DO THAT ALL SUDDENLY, HOLD UP, THIS WAS JUST GETTING INTERESTING

ah shit. so he’s starting to fade away

but you do exist! you’re real! you live on inside the quirk!

so you hear that, All Might? when you inevitably die your stupid fucked up tragic death that poor Nighteye foresaw and was tormented by, once you’re done ripping my heart to pieces, you can come back and still give Deku mentor advice within his mind. like Dumbledore in Deathly Hallows, only with less “sorry about dumping you on your abusive relatives and raising you to be a sacrificial lamb”

anyways the point is the two of you are bonded forever within OFA now, and that’s a comforting thought that I’m gonna hold onto for when shit eventually gets Real, however far along down the road that may be

oh okay good, before he goes he’s giving Deku advice on how to control it

he says that if Deku wields the power in anger, the power will respond accordingly

(ETA: and there’s literally a flashback panel of Monoma being all “REMEMBER WHEN BAKUGOU DESTROYED SOCIETY” lmao. just to remind everyone yet again of what exactly it was that set him off.)

good thing he’s not an empathetic young shounen hero prone to being roused to action and acting impulsively to the point where that was literally the deciding factor that made All Might choose him. oh wait. oh shit

but TH does say that it’s fine to get angry and that anger is one source of power

wow. just let that sink in for a second. so here’s a wise old mentor ghost actually telling the hero that he doesn’t have to be some perfect zen monk all the damn time. damn. hey TH I really do like you my dude

but anyways, so “that’s exactly why you must have careful control over that anger”

so basically you can use it to power up your quirk, but you gotta keep a rein on it otherwise we’ll wind up with a repeat of what just went down

YESSSSSSS AWWWWWW HERE IT GOESSSSSS

and that was the sound of fans across the world either ragequitting or losing their fucking shit in excitement lol

but okay, so me personally, I fucking love it. I know fandom is somewhat divided on whether he’s going to be too overpowered, but look at him! he has his fucking hands full just getting a handle on this one single new quirk! it’s not like he’s gonna just master this and the other five overnight. basically this is a brand new challenge for him which will take quite some time (if not the remainder of the series) for him to get a handle on, and which will make for much more interesting and unpredictable battles from here on out. and what with All Might gone, and us having pretty much seen the limits of what Endeavor can handle now, I gotta say it seems like we’re gonna need this sooner than later

(ETA: especially with the recent reveal of just what he’s going to be up against. bad guys are not fucking around holy shit.)

and strangely, this also makes me excited as a Bakugou fan because I still firmly believe that the two of them will remain head to head as the series progresses. which means that Bakugou is going to get a hell of a lot stronger himself. I don’t know how, but I have faith in the series to make it happen, and I’m looking forward to that as well

anyway, so TH is fading away, but he really has a lot of confidence in Deku and I love it

“you’re going to be the one who completes One for All.” fuck yeah. you hear that Deku? we all agree this is your destiny kiddo

and now we’re finally cutting back to the real world yaaaaaay

so Ochako is frantically shaking him

her slap probably did hurt. she’s fucking strong as hell. but he’s all right

so she’s setting him down and he’s realizing that the quirk has vanished (ah yes, that’s right, he went into that trance OFA dream state as soon as Shinsou’s quirk activated, and he was pretty out of it when the quirk was receding)

and she’s explaining that they were able to calm it down with Shinsou’s quirk. thanks for the assist Shinsou!

so like is this battle still on though or what lol. I think that Deku’s team should concede and call it a day because yikes

so Ochako’s asking him if he’s okay now and he’s just now realizing that she’s all banged up too. I guess that black whip packed a punch

HEY WHAT

FUCKING HELL MONOMA, YOU LITERALLY DON’T EVEN KNOW IF HE’S OKAY YET AND YOU’RE PULLING THIS SHIT ANYWAY. CAN YOU GIVE IT A REST FOR TWO FUCKING SECONDS OMG

also did he just snatch OFA?? I’ve been wondering for ages what would happen if he did that, and I gotta say most of my speculation didn’t end very well for him

anyways, sigh, so he’s whapping Deku with the giant bolt he just rode in there on. Yanagi’s quirk combined with Kodai’s quirk

and Deku’s stupidly shouting “Monoma!” and he’s lucky that Monoma didn’t just activate Shinsou’s quirk right there and then

and now Ochako is charging in yessssssssss!!!

FUCK HIM UPPPPPPP OCHAKO lol

ahh but here come more giant flying objects crashing down at them

and now Yanagi is asking Monoma if he’s all right and he’s complimenting her on her good timing

well would you look at this

so are we just going to have a big fucking brawl right here and now then

Kodai’s using her size quirk to block Mina and Mineta’s attacks, and it occurs to me to wonder what level of acid Mina was flinging at them. you know, Mina’s someone who could be pretty fucking deadly if she wanted to. they’re lucky she’s not on the villain side; with her charisma and creativity and fucking acid quirk she could probably take over the world with ease

anyway so now this is happening

honestly, Vlad and Aizawa, you really might as well call the fight off now lol

or don’t. because this is still entertaining

meanwhile Deku and Ochako are watching from above

“you wanna go get some burgers or something”

lol are you gonna help your teammates out or are you just gonna crouch there all day

Deku’s thinking back on TH’s words about how he needs to be in control of his heart and how if he wields his power in anger shit’s gonna get wrecked

uh oh

Shinsou being a sneaky sneak. but they owe him one though

lol it didn’t do much though

you tried, Shinsou

Deku’s narrating that he’s got so much going on in his head right now he can barely think, but he knows he can’t allow himself to go out of control and hurt everyone again

and now we’re cutting to the teachers who have snuck onto the stage and are watching from the shadows

Vlad’s asking Aizawa what they should do

Aizawa you’re so fucking hot as always good grief. I like your thoughtful face as you ponder how to address this later on, while also thinking that in the meantime you wanna keep watching and see how your protege fares against your problem child

haha okay

THE 5TH SET SHALL CONTINUE, EVERYONE! LOOKS LIKE THE BATTLE’S BACK ON FOLKS

next issue has a color page yaaaay. should be the 4th popularity poll results at long last if I’m not mistaken. MIRIO’S REVENGE. or mine, if he’s not represented the way he should be

meanwhile watch fucking Hawks be in like 1st place. except he’s not unseating the big three, probably, but after that who knows. sky’s the limit, and this boy can fly, so

(ETA: motherfucker made it all the way up to 4th place lol called it. apparently I missed when the results were originally announced back with chapter 207. still not sure how. but anyways I’ll post all my thoughts about it tomorrow lol)

[susan-gampre]

Whore’s Justice

~  Mood ~

Her fingers coiled and gripped the neck of the liquor bottle atop the table, biting down onto the cork before sharply tugging the stopper out of place. In an instant she’d make use of the processed bark in such a manner of gritting her teeth, biting down onto the cork whilst tilting the bottle bottoms up, splashing the substance contained all over the open sores and wounds along her knees and left hand.

A muffled cry comes forth in haggard, breathy grunts. Gasping against the cork in the midst of lowering her head back against her chosen seat, socked toes curling in the same motion of her entire figure tensing.

Her skin was aflame with irritation. The infections having set into the open wounds burning away with the aggressive, old school treatments. Ever still... Susan fucking hated this part of the aftermath of any Brothel fight.

Eventually the sting would become but a white pain, adjusting to the ache as quickly as it took her to splash a second dosage of liquor onto the wounds. With a spitting motion the cork flies from her mouth and to the floor, spittle and blood dribbling from her busted lips in the meanwhile.

Glaring hazel eyes watch the quieted Brothel den with minor irritation, considering the extensive damages of toppled tables-- some broken in half, some missing legs which remained strewn out across the grounds, some shattered to pieces... Shrapnel in the form of shattered bottles, abandoned knives and swords, splintered wood and ruined baggies of the plentiful moon dust all littered the heart of the tavern in it’s evidence, marking the mighty brawl prior to it’s disheveled appearance. The single white sheet spotted with red stains draped over the outline of a still body...

Exasperated in thought, the whore inclines her head and had begun to rub the exhaustion from her eyes through grinding her thumb into each eye, one at a time...

I have to notify that girl’s family...

“Susan?”

The Madam draws her narrowed gaze unto the hesitant gypsy half-elf, to whom immediately inclines her head, her tone ever soft as she further explains disturbing the woman: “The thief responsible for the brawl has been found, Kayla has him in the basements for you, ready for use.”

Kayla... The haunting nightmare of a woman, evil incarnate wrapped in a pretty black bow. It brought Susan a sufficient amount of satisfaction to know her trained assassin had make great usage of her abilities, tracking the man down merely an hour into the man-hunt being announced.

A single nod and dismissive waving of Susan’s palm would cause the curly haired gypsy to incline her head a second time, soon to gather her oddly patterned, mismatched skirts and spin atop her flip-flopped feet with a twist and twirl of the colorful garb.

With a swig of alcohol drawn from the bottle at hand, Susan would swallow down the liquid courage with a grimace and snarl, adjusting herself around atop her seat by lifting her battered legs from the opposing set adjacent to hers -- having acted as a mock foot rest to treat her cuts and sores.

Standing upright would the Madam begin the journey to the back of the brothel and into the kitchens, casting a weary expression over her shoulders before proceeding down the steps instilled into the storage room, leading down into an equally sizeable extra storage room-- Dusty, forgotten bags of rice and grains sit atop crates, stacked atop one another.

Cob webs and spider webs hung in the corners of the dank, dimly lit room, the whore shuddering from time to time the deeper she walks into the room having stepped on a jagged, broken batch of cobble stone and scraping her skin against the edges.

“Aha!” A cackling voice booms from the shadows, shimmering gray eyes dancing with utter excitement as the darkly clad woman bounces around Susan, to whom remains utterly unamused with the dark witch’s childishness.

“Come,” Kayla hisses, beckoning and coaxing the Madam along, “He awaits your audience, M’lady-- And oh, how I am so enthralled with what his fate shall be decided!”

Giddy like a child at Winter’s Veil, Kayla skipped along to the next extension of the basement, disappearing in a sudden poof of smoke and shadow before even crossing the threshold. Where once Kayla stood Susan could see clearly into the room. A young man, dressed in garb appropriate to street rats, sat tethered down to a poorly kept, rotted chair, the furniture creaking beneath his weight with each wiggle and struggle against his binds.

“Futile to try, the most good it will do is deprive you of strength. The strength I theorize you would have set behind trying to overcome the pain to follow-- Should you not answer my questions honestly.”

Wild, fearful green eyes flickered to and settled upon the stone faced Madam, a startled, stuttering voice murmuring out an attempt to win the woman’s affection, “S-Susan! Beautiful as e-ever! What’s with the ropes, huh? Old friends mean nothing to you?”

“Do not patronize me,” the woman seethes, a flame lighting in her eyes as her tone shifts into that of which exposed just how... Angry she was, a sneer to match her voice, “You lost the right to a friendship the moment you not only slandered the name of the Brothel, but when you trampled upon my business deals, spat upon the alliances to be made.. Made a mockery of these women, stole from them hundreds of gold, killed one of my women in a petty jealous fit, assaulted customers in my fucking brothel, damaged property of the Sisters in Sin establishment-- Shall the list go on, boy?”

His eyes had begun to pool with tears, his jaw clenching in the same motion of his head bowing. Defeat riddled his entire form.

Susan, however, looked to be quite triumphant. While true she lost a good worker this night, she gained righteous justice for the ill practiced against her... Against her work. Against her women.

“Kayla--.”

The shadows twist and morph, bending inward before shimmering with the effects of a body emerging from their embrace.

Susan gazed upon the wild eyed witch, her brows lofting up before settling to resume her emotionless expression.

This gesture, while faint to the eyes of some, seemed enough of a command for the witch, whom would grin most wickedly whilst approaching the fellow. From her hip has she draw a carving knife into the light, the metal of the blade rustic and brown in color, spotting here and there upon the dingy silver, it’s wooden handle scorched and melted with four distinct bumps -- each seem to fit Kayla’s fingers when she grips the circumference of the handle.

I am far beyond mercy. There is injustice, letting a murderer walk away a free man. Especially when his crimes are against my business.

“For blatant assault against the business of Sisters in Sin,” Susan speaks clear as day, speaking over the whimpers and begs of the tied fellow, whom would struggle harder against his restraints in hopes to escape the maniacal look in Kayla’s eyes, “And the murder of Pixie Dover, I, Madam Gampre, see you, Jeremiah Kettleton, put to death. Justice comes in many forms, citizen’s justice is far more brutal than any hanging. Far more befitting for you, Miah.”

In an instant Kayla would slash at the air in such a gesture to test it’s weight, though truly it was to revel in the deliciousness of Jeremiah squealing and sobbing his apologies, his begging never ceasing.

Puckered lips would be offered to the man’s sniveling, paired with narrowed eyes.

“You should have never crossed me, Jeremiah. Continue, Kayla. Make him bleed.”

Casually flicking her wrist, the Dark Witch refocused her gaze upon the prey before her, extending a grin and a teasing, mocking apology, “I am sorry it’s come to this, Jerry-bear... But, uh... Shit gets you fucked up, messing with a businesswoman!”

Through the cries and gore, Susan glared on. Stoic. Unmoving. Unwavering to the gruesomeness of the attack. Acting as witness to the slaughtering of the murderer and thief.

Never should have crossed me.

[fanfictionlive]

Everybody Recruits Raymond

The lights sent a piercing crack through Raymond Barone's head as he felt the ice water flowing down his hair and neck. Immediately he knew he was in a chair from which there was no escape.

"You're all right, buddy, take a breath," he heard from the figure next to him. The voice belonged to what appeared to be a black lady in standard, good ol' ACUs (Army Combat Uniform). He recognized the almost-flat brimmed hat. The captor loosened the zip ties around his wrists and brought a clean towel for the captive sports writer.

Had he been dreaming? Ray's mind scrambled for details, for a memory. He had been at home about to go to bed when his shrill harpy disguised as a mammalian wife was in the middle of some sort of laundry lecture.

It was something to do with not leaving socks....somewhere. His memory was a puzzle without all the pieces.

But everyman schlub sportswriter Raymond Barone of Long Island, NY now had a more pressing concern.

The bright lights cast upon him reminded him of the few photo shoots and television appearances he had been subjected to while expanding his profile as a sports commentator, and he quietly prayed that this was not the beginning of a filmed beheading.

He didn't think about his family, or his dunder-headed offspring. Instead he thought of never being able to chill out on the couch watching nonsense and eating chips again. He thought about never again shooting another 9 holes on the green with his imbecilic buddies. He had a reason to live.

His spine went rigid. The soldier applying a dry towel to his head froze, knowing something was up with Raymond. With every neuron committed towards neutralizing his opponent and getting the hell out of that room, his muscles tensed for the first time since high school gym.

He guessed he might have been abducted and taken to an abandoned saw mill because Raymond was a bit of a rube and drew from observations made from action movies.

Regardless of his lack of training, knowledge, conditioning, or balls, Raymond Barone totally launched his big, dumb-looking head upwards.

Before Sgt. Jackson could draw on her decorated career in priority extradition operations and enhanced interrogation techniques, Ray's noggin hit like a goddamn pop-up weasel made out of pure sportswriter skull and animal survival instinct.

In the split second that followed, Jackson learned a bit too late not to underestimate even the lamest of beta-male momma's boys. She had been slammed upwards, lifted by her sternum and yet the pain shot through the lower back.

"Holy shit," she yelled as she locked Raymond Barone's neck in a standard figure-four thigh-prison of pain and submission. As the air and life began to recede in what seemed like hours, Ray was being told that the low tide of consciousness was nigh. He knew a day would come when sweet death would release him from the annoying grip of his neurotic family.

But today was not that day, thought Ray as he bit down on Sgt. Jackson's ankle.

Now not many know this about Ray, but he is not an inherent and complete bitch. After all, he was sired by one of the most decorated and tough-as-nails Army Rangers of the freaking 20th century. The crass, lovable, and reluctant patriarch of the Barone clan had served in several theaters of operation other than Korea. In the years following the 1953 armistice, Frank's leadership proved instrumental in the destabilization of banana republics held by incompetent and corrupt governments. It was not his problem when those "damn pencil necks at the CIA" facilitated the wrong dictators after each revolution.

Lieutenant Colonel Francis Oscar Barone would have been proud when his otherwise dopey son drew warm and watery blood from Sgt. Jackson's writhing ankle, its tendons tearing apart at the seams as her grip relented and Ray's incisors hammered and sliced through flesh.

He had had plenty of practice through the barbaric manner in which he ate corn on the cob prepared by his mother Marie.

Sgt. Jackson didn't scratch and smash and gossip her way as a lady of color in the more experimental and therefore coveted military endeavors and became a part of the most elite and secretive recruiting outfits of the Central Intelligence Agency's SAD (Special Activities Division) only to perish at the lumpy, uncoordinated hands of Raymond Barone - a man-child who smears Cheeto dust on his own pants.

Fuck that, thought Sergeant Jackson as she ignored three seconds of white blinding pain so she could grab hold of Ray's huge schnoz nostrils with her middle and index fingers.

"The Achilles Heel.....it's the Achilles Heel of the human foot," said Ray as he chowed down.

She snapped his head away thanks to the generous handle provided by his vaguely Semitic nose and replied. "Your country needs you, Mr. Barone. Wake up and smell the COFFEE!" With her free hand she snatched a cold mug of the caffeinated black-water from the computer desk nearby and poured its contents into his nostrils when he relented.

Only 30 seconds had passed since Ray tried to off the guard and the next sensation he felt was pure electricity. This was not some erotic yearning for the strong woman manhandling him, but rather the violent shaking of a taser. Two military police officers had burst through the steel door to subdue him.

When he came to he was cloaked in a standard issue brown bathrobe lying on a cot. He could barely make out the silhouette of a crusty old man in class A's looking down at him. When the man saw that Raymond was awake, he leaned in and spoke with a steady tone.

"Sgt Jackson is mighty pissed off about her foot. She'll be alright but I doubt you two will be working together after that display."

Raymond wondered why the old man's voice sounded familiar. As he crept in closer, Ray could make out the name tag of what appeared to be a highly decorated Army General by the name of Barone. His few seconds of denial could only be sustained until he uttered, "Dad?"

"You didn't think I really retired, did you?"

Now General Francis Barone of the 7th Ranger Infantry Company Airborne allowed a smirk to form at the corners of his calzone-crumbed mouth. "Like Jackson said, your country needs you, Ray."

End of Intro To be Continued

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