#yes i horrified the researcher who was with me with my inability to die

[trainer-wretch]

They FINALLY let me go somewhere, and i got to take some pictures (theyre mostly pictures of the landscape)

Used my incredible natural climbing skills to get this view

Found a shipwreck that is most certainly haunted

And this rock formation that has definitely cursed my bloodline

Literally swam all the was out to a rock in the rain to get a picture of this guy

[drmedicsgamesurgery]

Danganronpa Togami Volume 3 Part 7 (Summary)

Sorry for the short summary after 2 weeks, i have been very busy and this part required a lot of hard reading and research to translate. Good news is I will be much more free soon, so if you are lucky you might get 2 summaries a week.

Thanks to @enoshima-pyon @shockersalvage​ @jinjojess​ @hopeymchope​ for helping out!

One more thing:

IF YOU HAVEN’T READ KIRIGIRI SOU, DO SO NOW OR YOU WILL BE SUPER CONFUSED AS TO WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. LINK HERE.

5.

This feeling. 

Why, why is it that when I learn more about the K2K system in this place, I feel completely confused? 

This may all be fake. Maybe, I already knew that things would be like this? From the time when Borges’ anomalies became more and more obvious, I had begun to have already noticed it within my own heart.

My own story. 

Originally, I was just an item belonging to Byakuya. 

However, I also had my own story and I was destined to confront it at some point. 

And that is now.

I drank cold coffee and K did the same. The old man just talked about the tragedy of Don Quixote. [1] He said that the scene in which all the main characters had arrived into an inn had become unreadable due to the language. He said even Kafka and Sōseki [2] still resisted like this.

Speaking of which, there are also very exaggerated incidents in the books of authors like Banana Yoshimoto [3] and Haruki Murakami. [4] People feel like these can be too coincidental or contrived. Is that also a kind of resistance? Or is it that an exaggerated incident is an indispensable element for an interesting story?

Anyway, the old man who was drinking coffee in front of me, by pure chance was also something of a long shot. I just so happened to meet him and just so happened to listen to him. He just so happened to be an alumnus of Hope Peak Academy. He just so happened to be related to the Bible Plan. He just so happened to have participated in the development of Borges. It's almost like just one big joke.

I don't know if K knows my inner monologue. He has been talking in the calmest tone since then.

"It was not long after the end of the 'The Worst Incident in the History of the Togami Family. A person who claimed to be an insider of the Togami Family found me. Presumably, the superiors had already learned of the 'Bible Plan' to some extent. The insider was begging me: 'Can you write a dictionary for us?' What a charming invention!’ Still, I wanted to find a safe place to hide Borges. The Togami’s wanted to learn the techniques behind the 'Bible Plan'. Although I don't like the phrase very much, it was a win-win relationship for both parties."

Shinobu, naturally, has grown quite distrustful from these explanations but K assures her that he only provided the dictionary aspects of Borges, and points out that while any ‘missing pages’ were on the publishers fault, it was on the ‘reader’ in how they used the dictionary. When K was called on by the Togami’s, Borges hardware was already complete and he had installed the K2K system in it. However, complications arose because instead of using Borges as just a dictionary Shinobu used it as a way that K describes best as someone “watching the Raiders [5] while playing the game at the same time.”

That was a very modern metaphor, but thanks to it, things have become easier to understand. Indeed, I have always been obsessed with “Journey Under The Midnight Sun". Writing "Journey Under The Midnight Sun" is my only value in life.

Since Shinobu kept using Borges to search things related to Byakuya in order to write his biography, the K2K System inside it became specialized in Byakuya. And just like it led a person into committing murder by showing him a particular book, it started showing to Shinobu a book recommended to her. It started showing only the reality she wanted to see.

Shinobu responds that she had no chance to learn about the Hasegawa Research Institute or the Ketouin Conglomerate but K compares it to that of the ‘Anna Karenina’ [6] translations and how Nabokov [7] commented on how many times the word ‘home’ appeared throughout them all compared to the original text. Eight in the English version, once in French and no more than twice in the Czech version. He ponders how many times the word appears in the Japanese iteration before saying that reading those translations can be touching, but there will always be an inability to grasp what the original was. This causes Shinobu to think about her conversation with Hiroyuki on the talk of translations and he encouraged her to read the original.

It’s like singing karaoke without seeing the lyrics. It should be alright, but it seems that there is something wrong with it, which makes people feel uneasy and fearful.

K sums it up with this: “In a nutshell, no matter how many correct explanations I make, your dictionary will not translate them accurately to you.”

Shinobu demands to be told what the actual names of the Ketouin Conglomerate and the Hasegawa Institute...only to become exasperated when she thinks K is joking when he says they are the SkinSkin Conglomerate and Clark Kent Research Institute. K points out as long she had Borges, what she said and hears really can’t be guaranteed. It has mostly to do with the dictionary installed in it. Because the multiple editors are different, the content is different as well. Like how the concept of love varies between definition and cultures and philosophy.

“Just like an analogy. In addition, because of their different levels of knowledge, their understanding ability is different. After reviewing the dictionary, different users will have a considerable degree of understanding of the meaning of a word. The dictionary thinks that it understands 'A', but it may be misunderstood to understand 'B', and when it is described in language, it is 'C', and this may happen."

Shinbu comments she doesn’t want to misunderstand the world, though K points out people are misunderstanding everything throughout their lifetime, like how someone made Gulas by following a curry recipe or how people have turned to terrorism because of watching “Island of the Evil Spirits”[8]. Shinobu, horrified, wonders how she has been talking to people. However, K explains it that as long as people get the gist of her actions, communicating with others should be fine. Even though her reality is twisted in distorted, her unreality is still set within the bounds of reality.

Yet, even still...

"I just want to see the real thing."

"This feeling is actually normal, but it’s impossible. Borges is like a mother who overprotects her child, hides everything that is not good for you, and only provides you with what you want to see."

"I don't have Borges in my right eye, so why is it impossible? Haven't I gotten rid of its influence?"

"Even if the child is independent, it is impossible to get rid of the influence of the parents immediately. A person who has necrosis of the right side of the brain due to cerebral infarction will replace the right side with the function that has been lost. The same is true for you as well. Now all the organs in your body are running at full speed, instead of Borges continuing its work."

"How hopelessly despairing."

"Don't say that. If it lets you see the truth all at once, you will certainly collapse. It’s because this work is still in progress. It’s so you can still see the world you want to see.”

The world I want to see?

Shinobu soaks this in and starts to lose it, repeating her belief that Byakuya Togami is God. K tries to snap her back to reality by reminding her that Byakuya is human and is destined to grow old and die. Shinobu, however, still continues her silent freak out as she comes to grip with this information.

With or without Borges. I am still myself. 

This is irrelevant! Byakuya is God! It’s not that I put a sparkling aura on him or anything, but he is just is so shining! He was born to be the North Star! That old man doesn't really know what he is talking about when it comes to such a God! Byakuya is unbeaten, and Byakuya is invincible! 

At this time, he still plays the world in the palm of his hand. Since then, the world has always belonged to Byakuya. This fact will not change, even if the sun expands and swallows the Earth. The universe is coming to an end, yet Byakuya is still God! I wrote "Journey Under The Midnight Sun" to let this truth pass on to the future, and wrote a completely true biography with Borges... 

Ah, but Borges has been full of lies...hey? The reason why Borges lies is because I want to see such a world, right!? What I want to see is Byakuya as the world's God? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! 

I need to drink Bufferin.

I seem to be in a mess and I can prove that this is why K that was so eloquent before. However, he did not say a word, but was quietly watching me. I don't know if what he is thinking is either "this would be the crash after a person knows the truth" or "it’s hard to keep faith now". Regardless of the case, all this really teaches people how to be angry... 

No, actually, I’m not. This feeling...this is not how I actually feel! Honestly, I would like to use Borges to search for vocabulary related to feelings.

In fact, I want to let Borges manage me, just like before!  Ah, no, that’s not right! Because I have neither hope nor despair. Since Otsuki was present as my brother. Since Kazuya became my younger brother. Since the day I was born into the house of the Togami family.

That’s when that moment started. 

Hope won't make me feel splendid. 

Despair won't make me depressed. 

I don't need to use these things to spur myself!  

Yes, I will get the approval of Byakuya Togami and I will get to work on writing the biography given by him!

...But if these memories are also just illusions that Borges have been showing me...things are going to get quite confusing.

6.

"The picture."

After a while, K whispered. I stared at the painting hanging on the wall with my left eye, the weird creature that stood on the ground with a big nose.

"It's scientific name is the “Hopsorrhinus aureus”. This creature uses a jointed nose to jump like a kangaroo," K explained. "In 1941, this creature was found on the island of Hy-yi-yi in the South Pacific. This is a special sub-type of mammalian animal called the Rhinogradentia. [9] So far, 14 subjects have been discovered.”

K lists off the types of Rhinogradentia that have been discovered, including the species that has tentacles coming out of its nose that they use to walk with.

"How is it possible for there to be such creatures?”

“BAU UND LEBEN DER RHINOGRADENTIA was published in 1961 by Professor Harald Stümpke. [10]”

“Is there a book about them?”

“Yes, and it was translated to all over the world, causing there is a huge response. There should also be a Japanese version. You can check it out after you return to Japan."

"Then, what kind of book is it? Is it like a fake book?"

"The Foreword and Afterword are actually written by a real and famous zoologist. A review of this book was even published in scientific journals, and there are many related books too. How would you doubt an academic book on all the issues that modern zoology deals with from Morphology, anatomy, ontogeny, physiology, actions, diets, and phylogenetic evolution? With such an academically sound book, do you think you are qualified to doubt it?"

"There is no more direct evidence than images."

"I don’t have any."

"Why?"

"This creature is extinct."

"Extinction?"

"In 1957, due to a nuclear test conducted nearby, the islands where the Rhinogradentia flourished sank."

“It's a super-perfunctory ending.”

"Don't say what the ending is."

"So there are no photos? Since it was in the 1950s, there should be photos, right?"

"All the information sank with the island."

"I’m really speechless. There are no photos, anymore? If you can't investigate on the spot, there is no way to prove that this creature actually exists. This is really not credible."

"Do you know the Dodo?"

"A bird that is already extinct?"

"Because of that, do you think ‘Did this bird really exist?’"

"Of course it did."

"How can you be so convinced? The Dodo did not have any photos survive. The Dodo had once thrived on the island of Mauritius. This is only the testimony of the sailors at the time that can be proved without any other reliable information. Dodo, like the Rhinogradentia, are impossible to verify what kind of creature it was and what kind of life it lived."

"I remember seeing specimens..."

"There is a sample of a Dodo stored in a monastery in the Czech Republic. However, there is no evidence to prove that the terrible thing that is covered with charcoal is the real thing.”

“Therefore, the Dodo is a bird like a dove and a seagull, but the creature walking on the nose is looking for it. There is no such thing in the world, that is to say, common sense can prove that it is contrary to common sense, is false, can be judged by common sense."

"No, believe that the Dodo is real, but doubt the authenticity of the Rhinogradentia. This is not based on common sense judgment made, simply because you lack the logic to accept the existence of a real Rhinograde.

“You mean to say my lack of knowledge?"

"Reality and unreality are indistinguishable from the experiencer. I believe that a real person can see the existence of the Rhinogradentia it even if it is fantasy, and will also write an article to prove its existence. If a third party believes in the article, then the fantasy will be shared by them and become their common fantasy. By the way, when the book was published, most readers completely believed that the Rhinogradentia existed."

Shinobu cant laugh even if she thinks its too stupid. These people at the time had no real way of knowing the Rhinogrades were made up. Shinobu thinks about the Kudan, and thinks to herself that the Kudan definitely exists, like the Dodo. 

People who don't believe that the "Kudan" exists makes me laugh.

“People are only willing to see the reality they want to see,” K said calmly "No matter how convincing a certain argument is, as long as people are unwilling to accept it, they can't understand the meaning of it. This pathology is similar to the story in Don Quixote.”

K then gives another example similar to the previous one before continuing.

“No matter how much we experience, how much knowledge we learn, it is impossible to have the same sense of reading as the readers at the time. That is absolute.”

“Absolute...” murmurs Shinobu.

K says as long as Shinobu believes that Byakuya Togami is a God, Borges would do everything it could to strengthen that position, even if what is happening is different. To sum it up, “The sacredness of Byakuya Togami, if you couldn’t find it, you would make it.”

What?

I...understand.

Now I understand. If Byakuya Togami is not God, then my world will end.

The only purpose of my existence is to write "Journey Under The Midnight Sun", and I couldn’t let that weakness and fragility of Byakuya be exposed to my eyes.

So I made up and fabricated the storyline.

I built the story I wanted to see for myself. Not on purpose, but because of Borges's interference. In order to make Byakuya Togami become God, I have created a lot of lies so far. I made people who didn't exist, created a group organization that didn't exist, and looking back I think I even falsified the past. 

I now understood all of this and was mentally prepared. Although I can't say that I was awake...I have accepted the uncertainty of my brain.

I have accepted the fact that life has only just begun today.

With this realization, Shinobu stares at the painting and asks for the name of this animal and finds them cute. The Snout Leaper is what it’s called. Shinobu says that it would be nice if the Snout Leaper really existed, but believing in something and it actually being true are two different things. K says that belief is just enough.

“I still want to hear the truth, I want to know the truth."

"Although I don't know if I can't do it, it's worth a try."

"I didn't expect you to say that too."

"I didn't mean to tease you," K said shrugging. "At present, there is no Borges in your right eye. Then you have to look at the real things with your own eyes and update your reality. Although the information falsified by Borges will not disappear easily, but since you have found a path that convinced you, no matter how difficult it is, you should follow that path."

"I think so too."

"Then I’ll tell you something, maybe it can help you. Although it's just a hypothesis, the Despair Disease is more than likely a lie made up by Borges” he begins...only to be cut off by a piercing sound.

Just then, countless bullets penetrated the window and the kettle in the kitchen was riddled with holes.

 Translation Notes: (I highly recommend reading these this time if you don’t normally.)

[1] Don Quixote is a Spanish novel by Miguel de Cervantes. Published in two parts in 1605 and 1615, Don Quixote is the most influential work of literature from the Spanish Golden Age and the entire Spanish literary canon. A founding work of Western literature, it is often labeled "the first modern novel" and is sometimes considered the best literary work ever written.

[2] Natsume Sōseki was a Japanese novelist. He is best known around the world for his novels Kokoro, Botchan, I Am a Cat and his unfinished work Light and Darkness. He was also a scholar of British literature and composer of haiku, kanshi, and fairy tales. From 1984 until 2004, his portrait appeared on the front of the Japanese 1000 yen note. In Japan, he is often considered the greatest writer in modern Japanese history. He has had a profound effect on almost all important Japanese writers since. 

[3] Banana Yoshimoto is the pen name of Japanese writer Mahoko Yoshimoto. Yoshimoto says that her two main themes are “the exhaustion of young Japanese in contemporary Japan” and “the way in which terrible experiences shape a person’s life”. Her works describe the problems faced by youth, urban existentialism, and teenagers trapped between imagination and reality. Her works are targeted not only to the young and rebellious, but also to grown-ups who are still young at heart. Yoshimoto's characters, settings, and titles have a modern and American approach, but the core is Japanese. She addresses readers in a personal and friendly way, with warmth and outright innocence, writing about the simple things such as the squeaking of wooden floors or the pleasant smell of food. Food and dreams are recurring themes in her work which are often associated with memories and emotions. Yoshimoto admits that most of her artistic inspiration derives from her own dreams and that she’d like to always be sleeping and living a life full of dreams.

[4] Haruki Murakami is a Japanese writer. His books and stories have been bestsellers in Japan as well as internationally, with his work being translated into 50 languages and selling millions of copies outside his native country. His work has received numerous awards, including the World Fantasy Award, the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award, the Franz Kafka Prize (yes really), and the Jerusalem Prize. Another notable feature of Murakami's stories are the comments that come from the main characters as to how strange the story presents itself. Murakami explains that his characters experience what he experiences as he writes, which could be compared to a movie set where the walls and props are all fake.

[5] The Raiders can refer to either The Los Angeles Raiders or the Canberra Raiders. Both are sports teams.

[6] Anna Karenina is a novel by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy, first published in book form in 1878. Many writers consider Anna Karenina the greatest work of literature ever, and Tolstoy himself called it his first true novel. It was initially released in serial installments from 1873 to 1877 in the periodical The Russian Messenger.

[7] Vladimir Nabokov was a Russian and American novelist, poet, translator and entomologist. His first nine novels were written in Russian (1926–38), but he achieved international prominence after he began writing English prose. Nabokov became an American citizen in 1945. It should be noted that a novel of his titled “Despair” (Novel), is about a man who meets a homeless man in the city of Prague, whom he believes is his doppelgänger. You can't make this stuff up, I’m serious.

[8] Island of the Evil Spirits is a film directed by Masahiro Shinoda. I honestly can’t find much about it.

[9] Yep, you Kirigiri Sou fans should be very blissful now. Interesting how K explains the non-canon routes of Kirigiri Sou to be based in “unreality”.

[10] Gerolf Steiner was a German zoologist. Steiner is best known for a 1961 book authored pseudonymously as Harald Stümpke on the anatomy and habits of the rhinogradentia, a fictitious order of extinct mammals whose nose evolved in unusual ways.

To Be Continued

https://drmedicsgamesurgery.tumblr.com/GameSurgeryDRTranslations

[zutaraverse]

Chapter 6: Spilt Blood and Water

Chapter 6 of Blood, Chi and Full Moons: Find previous chapters here or: Chapter 1 Part 1 | Chapter 1 Part 2 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 Part 1 | Chapter 3 Part 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Guys disclaimer: From here on in this is for MATURE audiences only.. In both good and bad ways. R rated ok. Trigger warnings for torture, rape, murder, swearing, sex. 

Katara hugged her knees to her chest and tried to calm herself down. Zuko, unsure of what else to do, sat on the floor leaning against the wall and he waited for Katara to start. He was feeling nervous, and not a little frightened. If there was some danger he could see then it would have been simple; but he had a suspicion that everything was in her mind. A chill ran down his spine. Last time he had seen somebody lose their mind it was his little sister. He could not let something similar happen to Katara!

Katara took a deep breath and focussed on a patch of wall above Zuko’s head so she wouldn’t have to endure his reaction.

“I had recently arrived in the Fire Nation, intent on locating at least some sources of information. I took up rooms in an inn just over the border, and for a couple of days managed to gain my bearings,” she started, her voice growing stronger as she lost herself in her memories.

“The inn was pretty busy, but I always got a little table in the corner for my dinner. One night I was eating, not paying attention to my surroundings, and this man bumps into my table, accidentally spilling my drink. He apologises profusely and looks genuinely worried that he had wasted my drink and insists on getting me another one. When he returns he insists on sitting with me and talks and talks and talks about nothing in particular. I remember thinking, as I was sipping my drink, that I would have to find a way to get rid of him soon or I might die of boredom.” A bitter smile played on her lips before she continued.

“He must have slipped something in my drink. It didn’t take long, but soon I could feel the control of my body going. My mind was hazy but present, but my limbs were harder and harder to move. When I finally collapsed on the table, unable to shout or run, he convinced the inn keeper that he was an old friend of mine - and since they had seen him buy me a drink and talk to me they didn’t doubt it. He made it seem like I was drunk and he would put me in my room - so they let him take me upstairs.” She paused to brush away some tears.

“I knew what was going to happen. Knew it the moment he pretended to be my friend in front of the inn keepers. And the lock clicking in the door was my sentence.

“He removed my clothes, dropping me a couple of times. I was horrified that I could still feel pain, I just couldn’t react to it. I couldn’t bend. Finally he placed me on my bed and said - “ her voice broke “well… it doesn’t matter what he said.” She took a deep breath.

“By this point he had an erection - actually I think he had had it for a while. And he decided that… sticking it down my throat… would … anyway I choked. A lot. I thought I was going to die from all the gagging and the bile and I couldn’t… just couldn’t get away! I tried, really, really hard, to combine gagging with movement and managed to bite down.” She smiled wistfully at her little victory.

“It wasn’t hard, I doubt it hurt. But he wasn’t taking any chances. That’s when… he decided to burn me.” Tears sprang to her eyes once more as she remembered the searing pain on her ribs and her inability to scream and heal herself - her complete helplessness and the way she prayed for unconsciousness, the smell of burning flesh turning her stomach. She didn’t need to say that the burns she was referring to were the ones Zuko noticed while training.

“Then he - well - he was not gentle. It went on for so long. Every time he was close he would pull out and burn me some more and then continue.” She took a shuddering breath.

“Finally he finished. I was in so much pain everywhere. But he just left and I still could not move. I thought - I thought I would never be able to move again. I couldn’t even lift a finger - “ she sobbed, but then seemed to recollect herself.

“It wore off the next day. Thankfully his seed hadn’t - erm - implanted. I would have got rid of it if it had, but I’ve never done that before and I don’t really know how… I healed myself all I could but much of the damage was done. I ran. Now that I could use my legs, I ran as far and as fast as I could. I avoided humanity for a long time, sleeping outdoors just like we used to when we were travelling. But that didn’t help. Every twig, every scrape, every bird cry or wolf howl or frog chatter had me on edge. I could only sleep when I was too exhausted to stay awake, and I often forgot to eat. Sometimes I would go a few days or even a week without food, only my fearful exhaustion for company.

“I decided I needed towns - small ones with thin walls and people who all know one another. There I could secure my room and sleep. I would eat alone, I would talk to nobody, I would accept nothing from anybody. I had no direction, I just wondered for … I don’t know … a long time. I had given up. On everything. I was a wreck of a person, I couldn’t hold myself together. I let myself down by not being able to defend myself.

“In my angriest hours I knew that Hama and I were not that different. I could have unleashed everything Hama told me was possible ten fold on him at those times.” She spread her hands out and all the vases in the room cracked, sending pieces of pottery and water flying in all directions. “If she went through anything like that - who am I kidding, she did go through things like that - she endured for years, I can understand! I would do the same… well… birds of a feather I guess.” She calmed herself from her violent outburst, and started again in a quieter tone.

“Eventually I heard of Ka’Bei, a little island with only Fire Sages on it. I reasoned that they would probably respect me enough to do me no harm - and even if they did, I would drown them and their temple with all the fury of the sea.

“I didn’t have to. They saw I was broken and they helped me regain my calm, they helped me accept fire as not purely destructive. I did not tell them what had happened, but they sensed that I needed them. I stayed with them two and a half months - I managed to live a semblance of normality, threw myself into meditation and research so my mind would not return to my dark places.

“When I first created fire there was only joy. I felt like I understood it, I felt like I had defeated him! He made me fear my own campfire, abhor the flames heating tea, avoid red like the plague. But here I had mastered it and he was wrong. The way he used it was wrong! And he would never learn the true meaning of fire because he was not worthy of it - like a butcher using broadswords. He made me scream at the slightest sound, run from any sort of physical contact and become a stranger to peace. But there I was, surrounded by the fire sages who cared, able to hug and brush hands without feeling sick, and finding an inner peace in meditation.

“And I was getting so much better.

“Then tonight he walked into your reception room. I just couldn’t contain it Zuko, please try to understand, please don’t think of me as pathetic - although I probably would deserve that. Everything spiralled back,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sorry I’m like this, I’m sorry you had to see this… I promise that I will - I WILL get a grip … I just need time … and I know he didn’t see me but I’m terrified he will find me again, Zuko…” She lifted her head from her hands and forced herself to look at him. She thought she saw smoke coming from his nostrils.

Zuko slowly stood up, fists clenched, and turned towards the door.

“ZUKO? Where are you going?!” she cried, panicked at the thought that he would abandon her.

“To commit a very long and painful murder.”

“No Zuko, you can’t!”

“Yes, I can,” he growled, turning to face her. “Tell me what he looks like.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to have his filthy blood on your hands! And you promised to stay here with me!” her voice was rising with panic again. Zuko winced.

“Katara, I will be able to cover it up - Ozai’s guests had a tendency to disappear too… I can get rid of this problem!” Zuko was trying to keep his anger at bay before he set everything on fire. It was one of the greatest tests of his newly developed self control. But Katara needed him. And she didn’t want fire.

“No. You are not Ozai. And you promised to stay here with me. I won’t tell you what he looks like.” She was speaking softly. She didn’t need to shout, she knew her voice would penetrate his conscience. He had promised, and if she knew one thing about Zuko, it was that he was a man of honour.

Zuko blew out more smoke and turned to look at Katara, and old anger ignited inside him on her behalf. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying hard to stay put. Katara watched him, having pulled up the bed covers to her chin, the silver moonlight catching in her deep blue eyes.

“Please, Zuko,” she whispered again, her voice threatening to break.

She was the moon, and she commanded where he was pulled. Everything was water - all life was water, and right now, the water that surrounded him was caught in a current pulling him to her. With that voice and those eyes his will was irrelevant. He would do anything in that moment to please her and comfort her. For the first time, Zuko decided to do nothing.

He hung his head in submission and walked towards her, retaking his place by the wall so as not to scare her. Katara exhaled in relief.

“You don’t need to stay on the floor, you can sleep on the bed - it is big enough for four. Just… please don’t touch me…”

Zuko blinked at her in surprise. After all of that, she still offered him a place in her bed?

“Are you … are you sure?” he stammered.

“Zuko, I trust you. I know you wouldn’t do anything. I’m not scared of you,” she gave herself a pensive half smile, “at least, not anymore.”

Zuko grimaced thinking of himself as the angry child who had chased them around the world. Various incidents entered his mind; when he crashed into her village, when he tied her to a tree, when he knocked her out in the North, when he had her alone under Ba Sing Se. In all of those situations there were people who would have taken advantage of her - but he would never have dared consider it. For the first time he realised how unbearably lucky they had all been to have found one another as enemies. Somehow they had scraped through, hardly hurt, from a war that could have taken so much more. How ironic was it that when she had been a helpless little girl she had been left alone, and now that she was the most powerful water bended and blood bender in the world she was hurt.

Zuko stood up, brushing ceramic bits from his clothes, and crawled into bed on the far side from her.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispered.

Neither slept well. Katara woke herself up screaming three times throughout the night, and eventually fell into an exhausted sleep towards morning. Zuko, however, could not get her screams out of his head, and they fused with the sounds of his own screams when his father had burned him in his dreams. He felt increasingly more useless as the night went on. In one nightmare he was watching it all happen, just as she had described it, except she could scream. He was running running towards her as fast as he could, but in front of him stood Ozai, with his hand gloved in flames held out before him. Zuko knew, he knew that to get to her he had to let Ozai destroy his face. He hesitated only a moment, but pushed forward and felt all the pain from the burns again.

He did not sleep after that.

Katara was sniffling and every so often her limbs would jerk out as if she were trying to break free of something, but at least she was sleeping. Zuko tiptoed to the door at first light and moved the dressing table as quietly as he could, and, by waiting for footsteps to pass by the room he ordered a servant to go to his rooms, fetch the clothes for the day and bring them here. By the time the servant returned, Katara was still not awake.

Zuko bit his lip. He did not want to leave her but he had to change. And wash. He could do everything in her bathroom, but she had to know where he was or she might panic when she woke up. Zuko returned the dressing table to its place guarding the door, and approached Katara. She was sleeping on her side, curled up in a now very crumpled light blue dress. Her hair stuck to her face in nighttime sweats, and dark bags blurred into smudged make up surrounded her eyes. Her face was more pale than he had ever seen, and had a greenish hue, as if she was going to be sick. But he had never felt so much affection for the girl lying before him.

“Katara?” he called softly.

Her eyes fluttered open, not quite focussing in front of her.

“Zuko?” she asked in a voice still muffled in sleep.

“Katara I’m going to wash in your bathroom. I am right here though, if you need me just shout. I’m not leaving you, alright?” She blinked at him, trying to make sense of the words he was saying in her confused mind. Slowly, she nodded and he walked towards the bathroom.

Zuko had not washed and dressed so quickly since he was in exile. He did not want to leave her on her own, and he hoped she was still asleep when he returned to her room.

However, he was surprised when he saw her changed, her hair brushed and her face powdered. The dressing table had been moved back to its original place and the ceramic pieces from the vases swept to one side. The bed had even been made! He stood, gaping at her from the doorway.

“When does the meeting start?” she asked. Her voice was brave and steady, but the red rims of her eyes betrayed her.

“There will be no meeting, there will be a hearing and then there will be a lifetime of jail for one man - that is unless you’ve changed your mind and you are willing to let me kill him.” There was no way Zuko was just going to ignore everything that had happened! Even if she wanted to pretend like nothing was the matter, he was most definitely not playing along.

“You are not killing him. There will be a hearing, but only after the meeting.” Her voice remained steady and resolute.

“You… you’re going to the meeting with the man who made your life a living hell? Katara! Absolutely not!” Was he going crazy? Was he hearing her correctly?

“Zuko… when your father burned you and banished you, you did everything in your power to go back to him. You thought it was to please him but that was not the real reason; he destroyed your self confidence. It had nothing to do with him, it had to do with yourself. You had to go back to prove to yourself that you had not been destroyed. When you had proved that to yourself then there was no reason for you to stay.

“This is the same thing. I need to show myself I can continue, that I can function even if he is there. I will do it to spite him and because I need to believe in myself. Can you understand that?” She was so calm. She was too calm. It unnerved him.

“No. I won’t allow it,” he responded stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. How could he sit there with Katara and this monster and talk about trade? This was insane!

“You really don’t have a choice Zuko. You don’t even know who it was. And until the meeting is over I won’t tell you.” She lifted her chin in defiance and walked out the door towards the meeting chamber.

He saw how she was getting through the meeting. She was either staring at the papers laid out on the table or above the heads of the guests. She did not look at anybody’s face throughout the whole thing, and resolutely ignored the snide comments made about having a woman in the meeting chamber. Zuko, however, found it near impossible to concentrate. He looked every man in the face with an anger hardly concealed behind his golden eyes, and, in retrospect, that was probably what made them concede to his and Katara’s plans in the end. There was a lot of grumbling, and vows that they would regret not placing the army everywhere.

They all got up to go, leaving their empty lunch plates by their places. It was almost sunset. Zuko fixed his eyes on Katara. All he needed was the smallest sign of recognition and he would act. And he still wasn’t sure if the man would make it to his hearing alive.

Katara, however, kept her expression neutral and started walking towards the doors. There were a few snide comments, but she reacted to none of them, keeping her head held high.

Then one grabbed her wrist. Zuko’s eyes narrowed and he pushed though the throng of people to get to them.

“Let go of me right now.” Katara’s voice was icier than he had ever heard it before, but it brought him the greatest relief. All her calm and composure was unnatural, but this iciness was what he needed to hear. He stood, just behind a couple of people watching it play out. She was not drugged now and he dearly hoped she made all his blood drain from his eyes as Hama had described.

“Aw come on, its like fate has thrown us together once again. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy last time.” His voice was low and slimy and Zuko made a mental note to cut off his tongue as well as his hands and his dick. If he didn’t know how to use something, then as far as Zuko was concerned, this man didn’t deserve to have them. The man stepped closer to her. He realised who it was; a Captain in the navy, the one that had been most condescending about their solution. Even his commanding Admiral had taken more of it on board! Zuko smirked as Katara didn’t back away but glared at him straight in the eyes.

“If you don’t let go of me right now, I will make you regret it,” she said through her teeth. By now other people had realised that something was happening. The Admiral looked from one to the other and frowned.

“What could a little girl like you possibly do to me? As I remember it last time you didn’t put up a fight,” he said with a wicked smile snaking over his lips. He was still under the impression nobody was listening to him, but both Zuko and the Admiral were paying close attention.

“Agni Kai,” she said quietly, eyes narrowed in determination.

“What?” he laughed.

“You heard me. Agni Kai. Right now, you and me. Or are you scared of water?” she mocked. By now the whole room could feel the tension between the two of them and they had formed a shambled circle around them. The man seemed to realise everybody had heard her and looked around him in a moment of fear before smiling.

“You better start running little girl. This time I won’t take mercy.” He throw her arm back down by her side and looked around in grinning.

The Admiral hesitantly stepped forward.

“Lady Katara, I do not know what you understand of our customs, but it is unheard of to challenge somebody to an Agni Kai for merely touching you,” the last thing he wanted was the girl’s death on their heads. Katara’s infuriated eyes locked onto his.

“Believe me, Admiral, I know much about your traditions. I challenge this vermin to an Agni Kai because he touched me without my permission, and because last time we met he drugged me, raped me and burned me when I was completely helpless. Unlike him, I give my victims a chance to fight back. I just hope he can swim.” And with that she turned on her heel and stalked out the doors towards the outdoor arena.

Zuko stayed long enough to hear the Admiral’s dismayed gasp and notice that the Captain’s face had lost some of its smugness. He obviously had not been counting on her revealing what had happened. Zuko reasoned that a lesser being than Katara would never have had the courage to speak out or fight back. They would have self destructed. Zuko hurried out after Katara, instructing the guards of what was to happen and ordering them to escort the vile man to the arena immediately.

“Katara?”

“Don’t even think of trying to stop me Zuko!” she snarled, turning on him. He raised his hands.

“Believe me, I only wish I could be in that arena with you. But… just don’t do anything you regret, alright? And for the record, you are allowed to kill him in an Agni Kai,” he said quietly. A wicked grin grew on her face.

“Don’t worry, I will only bend water. But I don’t think I will kill him. I don’t know. We’ll see.”

Many of the palace staff heard of the Agni Kai taking place, and within a quarter of an hour the stands around the outdoor arena became almost half full. The captain of the guard at the palace was in control, and he stood in the middle, holding up his hands for silence. An eerie aura of expectation descended on the arena.

“The rules of the Agni Kai are thus; you may fight your opponent in the duration of the match using only physical blows or bending. Usually this takes place between two fire benders, but today we have fire versus water. Water comes from behind Lady Katara. The first to make their opponent kneel on the ground before them, or end the other’s life, wins. If the opponent is still alive at the end, the winner chooses their fate.” His eyes flicked from Katara to the Captain and back again. He walked to the edge of the arena and scrambled out. “Begin!”

The Captain immediately started on the offensive, throwing fireball after fireball at Katara’s face. She parried with water with hardly a flick of her wrist. He moved to try and get other angles, growling with the effort he was putting into each shot, while she hardly moved from her spot. At most she shifted her weight slightly.

Without waring, her parries were coming closer and closer to him. The audience were confused as to how she knew where he was aiming - of course they were ignorant of her own fire bending training. All he needed to do was place a foot in one direction and she could tell where he was aiming. It was pathetic really. Zuko’s lips turned up in the corners.

The Captain found himself surrounded by water and spun around, shooting fire from his palm until it all turned to steam and floated upwards. He grinned maliciously.

“Is that all you’ve got, little girl?” he snarled, igniting his fists once more. Her expression did not change at all as she condensed the steam that he himself had sent above his head into thick ice daggers the height of a man. The audience gasped as they saw them form above his head while he mocked her.

Suddenly, she dropped her wrists and they implanted all around him, trapping him in a circle made of six massive icicles. He growled and blasted at one until it melted, but he had forgotten that water does not disappear, and within seconds it returned to its position, thicker and taller than before as Katara fed more water into her prison.

He was too slow; she could create faster than he could destroy, and soon the walls were curving above his head.

The audience watched, shocked, as Katara brought her hands closer together as if they were holding a ball - and the ice responded by melting instantly to water and encasing him in a matching sphere. He could not retaliate from under the water, and in his shock let out the air he had in his lungs.

Katara lifted the ball of water encasing the Captain into the air, so that even if he were to escape he would fall a long way. The audience watched, horrified, as he started involuntarily breathing in water and thrashing about - they were watching him drown!

However, before he could drown, Katara released the imaginary ball she was holding, and accordingly the water ball ceased to exist; all the water and the man contained inside falling to the ground. There was a sickening crack as he hit the floor, but he rolled onto his hands and knees and started coughing up water from his near-drowning. He did not notice as the water around him rushed to cover his arms and legs and solidified to ice again.

Katara raised her gaze to the captain of the guard.

“I believe this means I win?” she asked calmly. The audience exploded in mutters as they realised what position she had frozen him in. He was kowtowing to her! The captain of the guard regarded her with not a little fear.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the winner is Lady Katara!” he boomed as the crowd hushed.

“I think you will find her title is Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe,” said Zuko, standing up and projecting so nobody would misunderstand him.

“Of course! Apologies my Prince! Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, what do you wish to be this man’s fate?”

Katara stared at the man still incased in her ice, her eyes narrowed in hate.

“I want him to be put in a place where he will never see sunlight or another woman again,” she called so that all would hear her. She then released him from the ice with a flick of her wrist as members of the guard made their way into the arena to arrest the man.

However, as soon as he saw Katara start to turn her back, the Captain staggered to his feet and aimed a fire whip at her. Somehow, Katara sensed what was happening, and she dropped to the ground, balancing herself on her arms, and kicked out in a typical fire bending move. It was water, however, that responded; a pulse of the liquid that was still on the ground shot towards the unsuspecting man, battering him in the stomach and sending him to the floor a few feet back.

He emitted a sound akin to a roar and made to stand up and lash out again, but suddenly stopped. Something quick flew through the air in a blur of grey and implanted itself into the side of his neck. Instinctively he drew the dagger out of his skin - but that was the wrong thing to do. It had found its mark on his main artery, and within a few seconds he was surrounded in a pool of his own blood, his eyes glazing over and finally his breath ceasing.

Katara looked to her left, to the point where the knife had come from, and she found the Admiral standing, looking down on the scene unsympathetically. Catching her gaze, he bowed in her direction.

“Impressive aim, Admiral,” she called out, nonchalantly.

“Thank you, Master Katara. Betraying his honour by not following the Agni Kai was the last mark against him. I could have waited to court marshall him afterwards, but I believe this fits both our purposes, does it not?” He turned his cold gaze to the people sitting around him. “I will draw up a report immediately recounting his crimes, if anybody is interested in reading it to justify my actions, please do not hesitate to ask.” The members of the crowd glanced at one another and many shrugged. After hearing how he treated Master Katara and seeing how dishonourable his conduct was even when she had spared him his life, nobody really cared.

In the meantime, Zuko had made it down to the arena to get Katara. When he turned around he noticed all eyes trained on him. For a split second he remembered standing in the same spot refusing to fight years before. He shook the memory away.

“Let this be a lesson to all my citizens,” he started, commanding everybody’s attention. “What this man did made him a worthless excuse of a human being. The law thus far in our history has been lenient on the violence many men show towards women, or indeed towards other men, because it was somehow made excusable by war. I am telling you all now that this will change. There will be no mercy shown to anybody who treats another human being like that.” He let his words sink in. “And I never want to hear protests again when a woman is present in any meeting. Judge a person on their intelligence, on their potential, on their achievements, but not on their gender. We have come out of a war badly damaged, and we all deserve, man and woman, to follow our own paths. If you miscalculate how you treat your fellow citizens - or foreign citizens alike - you might end up against somebody like Master Katara.

“Have a peaceful journey home. Do what you want with the body.

“Dismissed!”

[scriptmedic]

BS Tropes that Need to die TODAY, Part 3: “Truth Serum”

Hey there folks! Earlier this month, your kindly counterparts over on Patreon got access to vote on several nascent post ideas.  And this post  was the winner! Thanks so much to those who voted . I’ll be sure to run another poll in the near future, so if you don’t want to miss out, consider becoming a Patron!

And the Patron’s Choice this month was a post about truth serum. And hoo boy howdy, ever there was a trope that’s off (and pretty awful), this one... well, this one is on the list.

  What’s The Trope?

Billy Badbones has been captured. Whether it’s by the CIA, by Superman, or someone else, they want to know the absolute truth.

And Billy isn’t giving it up lightly!

First comes the tired threats. Then the weary, aged intimidations. Maybe a little bit of torture (and don’t get me started on why that pile of crap doesn’t work!).

And then they whip out the needle with Good Ol’ Sodium Pentothal(TM), and Billy Badbones starts singin’ like a little birdie!

  Why Is It Wrong?

“Truth serum”, as depicted by writers and Hollywood, is actually real. The meds exist, and they’ve been used for interrogation. It’s just that the technique doesn’t freaking work. If you want the TL;DR version of it, straight from your friends and mine at the CIA, here it is:

  The salient points that emerge from this discussion are the following. No such magic brew as the popular notion of truth serum exists. The barbiturates, by disrupting defensive patterns, may sometimes be helpful in interrogation, but even under the best conditions they will elicit an output contaminated by deception, fantasy, garbled speech, etc. A major vulnerability they produce in the subject is a tendency to believe he has revealed more than he has. It is possible, however, for both normal individuals and psychopaths to resist drug interrogation; it seems likely that any individual who can withstand ordinary intensive interrogation can hold out in narcosis.

(Emphasis mine. Also, my good friend at @scriptshrink would like to remind everyone that the term psychopath is dated. The correct modern diagnosis is Antisocial Personality Disorder. Forgive the language; this article was written in 1961).

The other problem with narcoanalysis is that while under the effects of barbiturates, people become very suggestible. It means that they’re likely to tell interrogators what they think interrogators want to hear, not what’s actually true. So even if someone confesses, or spills the location of the secret Rebel base, the veracity  of the information is always in doubt.

But writers didn’t get this from nowhere. This didn’t just spring, fully-formed, from some typewriter clacking away in the 1920s. This is based on some actual research. And some of that research is horrifying.

  The History of “Truth Serum”

Scopolamine was the original “truth serum”, and was accidentally “discovered” to have this effect in the 1920s by Dr. House.

(No, not that Dr. House, though we’ll definitely be talking about him at some point here on ScriptMedic.)

House was delivering babies, and discovered that a combination of morphine and scopolamine was able to help keep mothers quiet during the childbirth process.

This combination also delivered many a dead baby, but hey! It was quiet.

But during the process, House found that the women who were sedated were actually able to speak, usually very cogently and “unreservedly”, about any and all topics.

House had an interest in the criminal justice system. He then used scopolamine to “prove” the innocence of two men wrongfully convicted of crimes. By interviewing them while under the effects of scopolamine, House believed that they were incapable of holding back information.

“Truth serum” then took off, both in the popular consciousness and in American policing. There was a time in this country—less than 100 years ago—that police would inject suspects with scopolamine and question them while they were under its effects.

Because scopolamine has amnestic properties, interrogators were able to convince people they had confessed while under the effects of scopolamine, even if they hadn’t. Remember, being unable to remember an interrogation means you don’t know what you told The Man. 

Other agents have also been used for this effect, the most famous of which is sodium thiopental (Sodium Pentathol is the brand name), and sodium amytal. A 1986 paper suggests that ketamine—yes, my very favorite pharmocological agent—is equally as effective in narcoanalysis as the barbiturates.

Fortunately, here in the US, the courts system has rejected “narcoanalysis” as a means of interrogation. That’s been the case not only domestically, but around the globe as well.... with exceptions.

  Is The Trope Still Useable?

Only if you want to turn it on its head, or have it fail. Because the thing is: places in the world are still doing this. India, for example, uses sodium thiopental even to this day in interrogation (or at least as late as 2012). Colorado wanted to use it as recently as 2013. And it’s been long held that the American Central Intelligence Agency has used some variation of “truth serum” in interrogations.

Which, considering how much of this article is sourced from a CIA document, means they’ve at least looked into the stuff.

But before we continue, let’s clear something up.

Injecting someone with a medication against their will, especially when they’re not actually sick, is a goddamn human rights violation. It will make your characters liable for prosecution and, if they’re part of a military organization, possibly eligible to stand trial for war crimes.

Typically in fiction, the methods used are wrong. As is the ultimate outcome. As is the fact that it’s overlooked as being a human rights violation. So if you’re going to use this trope, I’d rather you used it accurately.

Thiopental, when injected, typically takes the subject into deeper levels of sedation than is useful to the interrogator. It’s as that injection wears off that they enter the “twilight sedation” that’s supposedly useful to interrogators.

As for how it works, well,  Courtesy of the CIA, who have an actually truly excellent article on this topic that I highly suggest you should read:

The descent into narcosis and beyond with progressively larger doses can be divided as follows

I. Sedative Stage

II. Unconsciousness, with exaggerated reflexes (hyperactive stage).

III. Unconsciousness, without reflex even to painful stimuli.

IV. Death.

Whether all these stages can be distinguished in any given subject depends largely on the dose and the rapidity with which the drug is induced. In anesthesia, stages I and II may last only two or three seconds.

The first or sedative stage can be further divided:

·         Plane 1. No evident effect, or slight sedative effect.

·         Plane 2. Cloudiness, calmness, amnesia. (Upon recovery, the subject will not remember what happened at this or "lower" planes or stages.)

·         Plane 3. Slurred speech, old thought patterns disrupted, inability to integrate or learn new patterns. Poor coordination. Subject becomes unaware of painful stimuli.

Also, the “phase 3” area, what they helpfully refer to as the “Psychiatric ‘work’ stage”, lasts only 5-10 minutes—hardly long enough for a detailed, confessiony interview.

And, for the record? Nobody injects anything into the neck. Okay? Okay. #Aunty’sPetPeeves

  Can Subjects Keep The Truth Hidden During a Pentothal Interrogation?

The CIA sure as hell seems to think so. Observe:

At least one experiment has shown that subjects are capable of maintaining a lie while under the influence of a barbiturate. Redlich and his associates at Yale25 administered sodium amytal to nine volunteers, students and professionals, who had previously, for purposes of the experiment, revealed shameful and guilt-producing episodes of their past and then invented false self-protective stories to cover them. In nearly every case the cover story retained some elements of the guilt inherent in the true story.

Under the influence of the drug, the subjects were cross-examined on their cover stories by a second investigator. The results, though not definitive, showed that normal individuals who had good defenses and no overt pathological traits could stick to their invented stories and refuse confession. Neurotic individuals with strong unconscious self-punitive tendencies, on the other hand, both confessed more easily and were inclined to substitute fantasy for the truth, confessing to offenses never actually committed.

  What Happens As They Wake Up?

From the CIA again:

“As the subject revived, he would become aware that he was being questioned about his secrets and, depending upon his personality, his fear of discovery, or the degree of his disillusionment with the doctor, grow negativistic, hostile, or physically aggressive. Occasionally patients had to be forcibly restrained during this period to prevent injury to themselves or others as the doctor continued to interrogate. Some patients, moved by fierce and diffuse anger, the assumption that they had already been tricked into confessing, and a still limited sense of discretion, defiantly acknowledged their guilt and challenged the observer to "do something about it." As the excitement passed, some fell back on their original stories and others verified the confessed material. During the follow-up interview nine of the 17 admitted the validity of their confessions; eight repudiated their confessions and reaffirmed their earlier accounts.”

(If that isn’t a human rights violation, I don’t know what is.)

So yeah. As someone withdraws from sedation under a barbiturate, they can get angry, violent, agitated, etc.

So that about clears it up for truth serum!

  Sorry, This Post Was Hella Long. What Did You Say?

Truth serum is a social name for sodium thiopental, sodium amytal, or scopolamine, though other agents including ketamine can be used. While people can be put in twilight sedation with these medications and interrogated, they can reasonably withhold information. Also, they tend to tell interrogators what they think the interrogator wants to hear rather than the truth, and/or a made-up bit of fantasy.

It may be possible to sedate Billy Badbones and, once he wakes up, convince him that he told them everything they wanted to know under sedation, but attempts to do so may or may not succeed.

  So yes, “truth serum” exists. It’s just that it doesn’t do what’s on the label.

Actually, it does do what it says on the label, because the label is for a drug that was intended for sedation. Barbiturates are perfectly effective as sedatives.

But a magical drug that makes you tell only the truth is just that.... fantasy.

Sources:

https://www.cia.gov/library/center-for-the-study-of-intelligence/kent-csi/vol5no2/html/v05i2a09p_0001.htm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/7773261.stm

https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2012/jul/05/india-truth-serum

http://www.salon.com/2013/03/13/james_holmes_the_ethics_efficacy_of_truth_serum/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3172517/

Thanks for reading.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

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[mamasgonecrazy]

Mental Illness and the Monster You Don’t Want

Hello Internet! 

I want to talk about something serious today. I guess that is no surprise coming from me, but I do think it is a very important subject to talk about. As many people can become triggered easily, I will give a trigger warning. I really hope however that you can take a moment to prepare yourself, and continue to read, because this is important. This post will talk about a tragic murder that happened 9 years ago, and about mental illness. 

Back in 2008 a tragic incident occurred in Canada. While riding a Greyhound Bus, 22 year old Tim McLean was tragically murdered by 40 year old Vince Li. The young man was stabbed multiple times while frightened passengers fled the bus. Li then continued to behead Tim, and started to consume parts of his body. Many were witnesses to this, including some RCMP officers who would later suffer from PTSD due to the horrifying nature of what they saw. The whole country mourned for the young man, and our hearts went out to his family.  During the time of the trial, Li was seen by psychiatrists, and pleaded insanity. His mental health was brought to the foreground, and it was revealed that Li suffers from extremely bad schizophrenia. He was unmedicated at the time and had no supports in place to help him cope with his condition. At the time of the killing, he had heard “The Voice of God” who told him that the young man beside him was a force of evil who was about to execute him. Fearing for his life, Li committed the heinous actions that ended Tim’s life. He was declared NCR (not criminally responsible) and sent to a mental institution, where he spent the next 9 years. During his time there, as he continued to work on his mental health, he was slowly granted more and more allowances, until very recently when he was released all together- being granted Absolute Discharge. 

Now, that is the backstory for anyone who hasn’t heard any of this in the news. Since his release there have been countless people on social media who are outraged. They call Li (who now goes by Will Baker) a monster, danger to society, and call for him to be locked up for life. I have even seen some people who call for his execution (because you know, we totally believe in Capital Punishment in Canada). I would like to take a moment to state on record that I am not talking about my personal feelings over the murder of Tim. It was tragic, and that fact is indisputable. By writing this post, I am not trying to insult any friends or family, and I am not trying to disrespect this young soul. I am simply going to talk about mental illness, and rehabilitation. I am talking about the present, and not the past incident.  Recently social media celebrated Let’s Talk Day, in which most people identified themselves as an ally to those who suffer from mental illnesses. Some even identified as someone who personally has a mental illness. However, from the comments I have read recently, they should have identified as an ally to people who have illnesses that are not super scary but enemies to those who are scary.

Schizophrenia is as important of a mental health issue to acknowledge as depression and anxiety. It is categorized as abnormal social behaviour, and a failure to understand what is or is not real. Suffers could have false beliefs, unclear thinking, and even see or hear voices that others do not. With the inability to tell that this voices are not real, they believe in them, and experience them as reality. It is not a “curable” condition, however can be managed through means of medication and therapy. At the time Vince Li was not on medication and was not seeking therapy. He was living life with this horrible condition and experienced everything around him as completely real. To him, God spoke to him and warned him that he was about to be hurt. That conversation happened to him as much as the conversation you had with the cashier at the grocery store happened to you. Once he was hospitalized, and started understanding and working on his mental disorder, he understood what he had done was wrong. But more than that, he felt remorse. He even begged to die, because it was so hard to live with the act that he committed. With doctors help, he has worked himself to a point where he understands what needs to be done to stay safe. Now, let’s look at a couple of the legal mumbo-jumbo that we need to understand here. First, NCR. Here is what the Canadian Criminal Code has to say about NCR. “No person is criminally responsible for an act committed or an omission made while suffering from a mental disorder that rendered the person incapable of appreciating the nature and quality of the act or omission or of knowing that it was wrong.” It does not take away responsibility from the guilty party, but rather lessens the responsibility if they were not in a healthy enough state of mind. Someone with schizophrenia as extreme as Li’s was not mentally capable of understanding that he was committing a crime at the time that he committed it. He did not go free either, but was locked away for almost 10 years.  Next, Absolute Discharge. To receive a discharge from a crime, there are a large number of criteria that must be met. It is not a decision that is taken lightly, and is only done in cases where it is deemed appropriate to do so. In the case of Li, he was rehabilitated and released (which has nothing to do with the Absolute Discharge), however with the criminal record over his head would find life impossible to continue. Now, many people would say “Justice!” for his life not being easy, but remember that he did not ask for this mental condition, he showed remorse for what he had done, and he spent 9 years rehabilitating himself.  “Well, no one can force him to take his medication now!” Yes, that is true, however it also doesn’t mean that he will stop taking it, or stop working with doctors. All that it means is that he no longer has to deal with the legal system in regards to this crime. I would like to draw a parallel about the issue of taking medication. I am on a very large amount of anti-depressants at the moment. The last time that I was off of them, I decided that I was going to take a pill every time that my boyfriend-at-the-time insulted me, because I couldn’t live with the way he was making me feel about myself. I was close to killing myself. Since getting medicated, I have realized that all of that was my mental illness talking. The medication helps me not want to harm or kill myself (or others), but without it I am in danger. I do not want to be in danger, therefore I will keep taking my pills. It is really that simple, and can be that simple for Will Baker (fka Li). He doesn’t want to hurt people. The last time he was not on medication he killed someone. Therefore, he will stay on his pills.  The last thing that I want to talk about is the difference between “justice” “vengeance” and the ability to rehabilitate people. Justice, from a legal standpoint is defined as “n. 1) fairness. 2) moral rightness. 3) a scheme or system of law in which every person receives his/ her/its due from the system, including all rights, both natural and legal.” The system did actually give Vince Li his “due”. He was declared NCR (by the system), spent 9 years in a rehabilitation centre (by the system), and was deemed to be no longer a threat to society (by the system). So when you scream for “justice”, justice was actually served.  Vengeance is the word you are actually looking for here. First, it is worth noting that vengeance does not have a legal definition. So we will look at the standard definition: “noun1.infliction of injury, harm, humiliation, or the like, on a person by another who has been harmed by that person; violent revenge:But have you the right to vengeance?2.an act or opportunity of inflicting such trouble: to take one's vengeance. 3.the desire for revenge: a man full of vengeance.4.Obsolete. hurt; injury.5.Obsolete. curse; imprecation.” The desire for revenge. It is understandable for the family members of Tim to seek vengeance, however the rest of us citizens have no right to do so. Once we start seeking out or committing acts of vengeance we are really no better than the criminals themselves, and are in fact trying to live in an anarchy.

Our current legal system works to rehabilitate people. It is why there is a system of parole. Funnily enough, had Li not been deemed NCR, he would have been sent to jail for 2nd degree murder; in Canada that means life in prison with chance of parole between 7-25 years. Parole is granted based on a number of conditions, including chance to reoffend. Li’s doctors have released him based on the collected agreement that he is extremely unlikely to reoffend. So, he could have been released sooner if the “justice” system that people call for worked in their favour. 

TL:DR time: Unless you have a medical degree and have worked with Li for a long enough time that you know his condition, how it affects him, and his chances to reoffend, you do not have the authority to speak about whether or not “justice” has been served with his release. You also cannot claim to be an ally to people with mental conditions, and then treat someone the way that you are all treating him. He committed a terrible crime, but was suffering from a terrible illness that he did not ask to have. He has worked towards rehabilitation, and deserves the chance to live a life, however filled with remorse it is, as a mentally healthy man. 

Please, think before you judge. Research before you get angry. Think about how all aspects of this case are affected. Be an ally to everyone who suffers from any condition, regardless of the stigma attached to it. And until next time, stay crazy <3 

PS: Some of my sources for this post are listed below.  https://web.archive.org/web/20150716091637/

http://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca:80/eng/acts/C-46/

http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs397/en/

https://web.archive.org/web/20080810005604/http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080805.wbus06/BNStory/National/home

http://dictionary.law.com/Default.aspx?selected=1086

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_imprisonment_in_Canada