#yes i went to a local performing arts high school and it was during the peak of glee which made it so much worse

[gentleraccoon]

everyone talks about their high school theater departments being self-serious and over-the-top but nothing will top my highschool's dance majors wearing straight jackets and doing a showcase dance to 'chop suey' in 2012 or 2013, directed by the dance teacher herself

[terrence-silver]

Do you have any headcanons about Terry McCain's younger life? His childhood, parents, family, time in high school, college etc?

---

― Born into a background just about as traditional as can be, I imagine, somewhere in rural Illinois on the outskirts of Chicago, on a big farm. Father might've been in law enforcement himself (a running multigenerational tradition, from grandfather, to father, to son?) mother a classical homemaker and Terry himself --- a good Catholic boy from a good Catholic household. The type that helps out at his local parish. Volunteers around the church or a soup kitchen. Feeds local stray animals around the neighborhood. Gets into fights with other kids he figures abused them, acquiring a taste for dishing out justice and pursuing what is right quite early on. Singing as a choir boy during Sunday mass, yes. Perhaps, taking up the occasional extracurricular of some local folklore troupe and getting into Irish dances and singing --- playing an instrument, sure, proving he has a knack for music; his first passion in life. Going on a heritage trip to Ireland? Maybe indulging in some occasional (and yet still weirdly innocent) mischief and pranks by switching out the local nuns' rosaries during prayer, for all we know. Nothing unconventional or controversial to see or read here. In fact, you can slap the man's face on a Norman Rockwell painting and you'd fit Terry McCain's upbringing fits the bill quite well.

― Had an equally Catholic educational phase too. St. Mary Institute or whatever it was called, and these years --- college and further studies pretty much left a pristine mark on his future too as someone diligent, hardworking and multitalented, considering how I envision Terry was groomed to be a cop very early on and that was a career choice that was simply a given he'd go into. Something, he in equal measure wanted to be, as much as it was a calling he inherited. As such, he attended an All Boys institute where he made lifelong friends (like Dylan) and later, a Police Academy and I imagine he got employment in this field extremely early on, possibly immediately post-graduation, which means by his early twenties, Terry McCain was probably already climbing the ranks within law enforcement, being a workaholic overachiever and fully dedicating himself to the job, fully detecting himself to his specialization and fully dedicating himself to martial arts; perfecting his weapon usage, combat skills and the pursuit of becoming just about as excellent as he can be in every regard, because I do believe Terry McCain is an idealist at heart and always has been, entirely convinced the myth of the 'good cop' doesn't just have to be a myth, especially how it might've been a career path numerous men in his family were in and the issue hit close to home.

― Was a definite country boy in the big city, and the somewhat drastic switch rendered him both hypersocial and introverted at the same time, meaning that in equal measure, a young Terry McCain was capable spending whole nights at the novelty that were jazz clubs, performing on stage, schmoozing at bars, honing his love of music, entertaining a crowd, being a generally liked, universally popular guy...and then retiring to his bachelor pad and being solitary for weeks and weeks, entirely bubbling himself in with the sole exception of being a cop. I think it is because Terry is a family guy at heart, plucked from his roots. Growing up in a tightly knit family unit. Instilled with family ideals. Possibly an only child who missed his family home and 'the good old days' or someone with a huge amount of siblings and nothing in between, being away from this traditional, post-card worthy environment due to the callings of his profession made it difficult to wholly adapt which he coped with by making his colleagues at the police force his adoptive family, in a sense --- which is exactly why their subsequent deaths were such a major blow to Terry. Why he went on such a rampage of revenge in their name.

― In spite of winning the genetic lottery in the looks department, being a star pupil in nearly everything he pursued, being athletic, tall, something of a jock and being undeniably popular in a sense, Terry McCain as a teenager was uncharacteristically humble about it. He might've been brash, a hothead, but, he was never a jerk. Never was a heartbreaker either, even though he very much could've been where young love was concerned. In fact, it is a shocker that Terry McCain doesn't have an extensive dating life behind him or nearly any at all, with rare exceptions. In fact, he seems like the type who would cordially take to prom someone who's parents know his parents and be a perfect gentleman about it and throw hands with anyone would be disrespectful about it. Pretty chaste about it too, as I do see that his later dedication to his profession consumed so much of his time that even as a young adult, Terry had no opportunity to put himself out there, regardless if he constantly turned eyes his way simply by walking into a room. Nobody would ever guess that this man had his first kiss relatively late and became sexually active relatively late as well just because he had this firm belief that he should do all of these things with someone he profoundly cares for and that the wait is worth it.

― Yet, I do imagine that there's a price to pay for being quite so continuously perfect in every regard and that's, yes, a whole load of pent-up repression accumulated over a great many years. Anger. Aggression. Being a bit of a pervert. Yeah, Terry has it all. And he's had it all since childhood, which means that in his adulthood and his continued career as a Detective, it actually takes anywhere from very little to a lot to trigger this man into turning a whole city upside down and leaving a literal trail of body bags behind him to enact what he sees as justice, righteousness, vigilantism, revenge, settling scores, tit for tat. You name it. Man has issues with rage galore. Issues with stubbornness. Issues with tense emotions. Issues with taking 'no' as an answer. To the degree he not only managed to hook up with a foreign model simply by being in relentless pursuit and then refusing to break up. I envision that as far back as his childhood or teenage years, Terry simply had a naturally fiery temper. That he was a kid of raw emotion and impulse. That he'd be capable of going toe to toe against a group of children all by himself because they bullied someone he considered a friend, even if the odds were stacked against him. It was the right thing to do, though, so he did it regardless.

[lemonade-if]

omg what's the storylines for the other clubs?!

Ah yes, it’s about time I elaborate a bit about the clubs... 😅 

Some of the storylines are less about the club and more about the members within the club, so I’ll leave that to be discovered when MC meets them.

---

Volleyball: Click Here to read. <No RO in this club>

Soccer: Soccer is historically Mori High's strongest sport-- they have never missed a Nationals since the school’s founding, and they have won at Nationals for the past two years in a row. While Mori High is not an elite school as a whole, its soccer team is certainly elite. With the retirement of the third years who formerly led the team to victory, can MC step up with the remaining members and keep up this legacy? <Hikaru is in this club>

Basketball: Mori High's current basketball is the most and only talented iteration its ever had, but also the most stubborn and uncooperative-- so much so, the coach suffered a stroke during Kantou Regional Semifinals and resigned soon after. Individually, this is a team that should be able to win Nationals, but collectively, there is neither teamwork nor camaraderie. Will MC be what this team needs to set aside their pride and differences and finally play as one? <Yosuke is in this club>

Track: Of the sports clubs, track is most chill. Everyone joins for their own reasons, so there is no harsh judgement about anyone’s athleticism, motivations, or abilities-- not even from the upperclassmen or top runners. Rather than being hung up on winning medals, the club’s philosophy simply emphasizes being the best you can be, whether that means running a 5k in 4 minutes or 40. Nobody is a loser here. <Akane is in this club>

Cheer: Cheer’s main purpose is to motivate the crowds at sports games, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. This club takes a lot of guts to join, not only because of its physically-intensive practice routines and how loud you have to be able to yell for hours at a time-- but also because of how common it is to encounter ill-mannered rival school students who badmouth your school and your friends...what would you do in such situations, MC? <Ren is in this club>

Music: Within the music club, students either perform solo or form bands with other students. Coincidentally, one of the most popular student bands (in all of Tokyo) currently has an opening-- for any position, as the members are open to role swapping. This band has been on hiatus ever since their vocalist, a third year Mori High student, went missing. On top of being confused and worried for their friend, the band members have also lost all inspiration to create new music... <Leila is in this club>

Journalism: This club is in charge of conducting and compiling campus interviews, writing articles for the digital school newsletter, and creating the annual yearbook, with responsibilities distributed by members’ personal preference. As long as deadlines are met, the day to day activities during club hours are not strictly defined, so this club is also quite popular with students who want to slack off. Yes, that’s Aleksei.

Art: Known jokingly around the school as the "Weirdo Club" because they chose an abandoned storage room as their official club space instead of a normal classroom, this club includes students with artistic interests ranging from traditional painting to tattoos to manga and doujinshi. The club hosts an annual “Mori High Student Exhibition”, which is a well-known event popularly attended by students, parents, alumni, and even random locals. <Shion is in this club>

[sunnysviolin]

High school Sunny enthusiast here! Would you mind sharing a couple more headcanons about it? I’m so glad you’ll be able to teach again this fall, you totally deserve to develop your passion at full potential 👏🏻

Am I showing up after forever of being gone? Yeahhhhh Sorry y’all got the brain sads lol but!! I’m back w one of my favorite little universes! I actually had a meeting for our teacher prep program on Thursday which is so exciting!! We’re being assigned our working teachers sometime this month which is insane to me.....Anyway today I’m gonna clean and write!! Take some headcanons nonnie you helped to make me feel inspired again!

This ended up being more Sunny and his Mom than Sunny and high school, but it gets there!! So Sunny’s mom used to make him and Mari bag lunches almost every day. The only day she didn’t was on Fridays, because those were pizza days, and she knew pizza was Sunny’s favorite

She made their lunches the night before and they sat on the back right corner of the fridge. She liked to keep it pretty standard- usually a sandwich (or leftovers from their dinner), a snack, a piece of fruit, and some sort of dessert. Sunny used to sit at the kitchen counter and watch her make their lunches right before he went to bed. 

It was one of the special things that was him and his mom. He got to choose what they had for a snack, what piece of fruit the two of them had, even what went in their sandwiches. He was the one that chose Caprisun or water bottle. He got to help his mom write a little note for Mari to read on a sticky note when she ate her food the next day at school. 

It started as a practical thing (Sunny was such a picky eater, it was best that he decided what they ate so he would actually eat his food) but then it was just their tradition

Sunny was never talkative per say, but during this routine of theirs Sunny’s mom could ask him about his day or his friends, and Sunny would do more than nod or shake his head.

After Mari died, after her husband left, they didn’t need bag lunches anymore. Sunny didn’t go to school, and Mari couldn’t. Sunny wouldn’t speak, not even his infuriatingly endearing head nods and shakes. He just slept. All day long. 

But after they move, after those last three days where she left him alone, something changes. At first his mother is furious with herself. She left him alone and he ended up in the hospital, how could she do that? How could she do that to her last living baby? But Sunny is changed, and not in the bad way. He’s getting up, he’s going out, he’s even seeing his friends.

She had been treating him like her baby again. She had thought that’s what he needed. He needed someone to cuddle him close and tell him he was loved. He had needed someone to make excuses, to let him sleep and process. He had needed to be in the house where he was safe and not out in the world where he could get hurt. He needed his mommy

But....maybe that had been what she needed. 

Admitting you got it wrong as a parent is not easy. It gets swallowed down like medicine and lemon rinds. It bubbles in the stomach and leaves you nauseous and unsettled. But seeing her son growing in front of her, seeing the shell she had left him in beginning to crumble shows her that yes. She did get it wrong. She had let them both stagnate.

When he tells her he wants to go back to school, she cries. She cries a lot. He is clearly very uncomfortable, but Sunny’s mother holds him tightly and cries. She calls the local high school that day and tries to explain their situation. Sunny had been doing some online classes over the last four years, but his grades were abysmal, and his mother is pretty sure he hadn’t learned a thing. 

The school agrees to take on Sunny, but they put him in a grade below his own. He will graduate a year late, but he will for sure graduate. That they promise her. His last school just let him fall by the wayside. This school is already planning out special practices just for him. Sunny’s mother settles the fear in her. Her boy will be looked after this time. 

They are worried about his socialization and ask if there’s any hobbies he has. She can only think of blank stares and sleeping, but she tries to remember the quiet sweet boy her son used to be. She remembers endless sketchbooks and colored pencils, and the oh so perfect melody of her children together. On a whim she enrolls him in Orchestra and Art with assurances that if he doesn’t like them he can switch them out.

The night before his first day of school, she walks into the kitchen and beckons him to follow her. They don’t have a bar counter space for him to sit at anymore, but Sunny hops up next to the fridge. Normally she would scold him for doing this, but she just asks what kind of fruit he wants. 

He tells her peaches, and she carefully carves them into perfect slices the way her mother used to do for her. She and Sunny begin their traditions once more. 

Sunny goes back to school and it is not easy. She doesn’t make it easy. Not on him, not on his teachers, and not on the administration. She calls at least three times a week, telling them that it’s too much. They tell her to back off, to let him stumble. It’s terrifying to do that. It’s worse than any fear to let her child fall and hurt himself. But she does. She does because she’s seen the changes since she left him alone those days in the beginning of the summer. 

One full semester is what the administration asks of her. Just two quarters for him to find his footing without her influence. They will reconvene over winter break to make adjustments, but she needs to let him fail if that’s what’s going to happen. He needs a mother, not a mommy. They don’t know the knife they’ve twisted when they say those words, but that knife is exactly what she needed. She agrees.

Sunny struggles to adjust but he does. His failed tests and missed classes slowly disappear one by one. He brings home a practice violin she did not buy from him, and he plays when he thinks she’s asleep. It’s quiet and unsure, but the music is there. 

He invites her to his concert. She does not hug him and cry again, even though she wants to. He isn’t a baby, he doesn’t need her to fawn over him. She agrees to come, and secretly begins to covert with Kel’s mother. 

She waits outside Sunny’s school for them all to arrive. Hero has come home from college for a long weekend for this. She greets each of them with a firm hug, something she hasn’t done in years. Even Basil, although he seems slightly terrified of her. They sit together in the audience and watch Sunny perform. 

She cries as she watches him. She doesn’t recognize this boy. This is not her baby, not the same child she loved and then lost alongside his sister. He’s changed, someone new is on that stage performing, someone for her to discover and love. 

She had been so afraid of this, so scared for that change, so sure it would only end in another dead child. Now there’s a teenager, not a child in front of her. He’s not so tall and not so strong, but he is alive and real right in front of her, and she is growing. 

She can finally start to let herself be his mother. 

[missbunnycarrot]

K I S S & T E L L

C H A P T E R O N E

1 new message

from: bestie

y/n~!! good luck! i am so excited for you babe. you are finally living your dream. i hope everything turns out well for you, and i know it will. although.. i am gonna miss you big time.. i love you babe. see you when i see you 😘😘😘

you let out a long sigh after reading your best friend's message. you lowered your phone then glanced back to your plane ticket to check your flight's departure time.

🔔📢🎶

KE flight number 17 bound to incheon, south korean has finally arrived. please proceed to the departure area, thank you.

"this is it y/n," you told yourself "i am finally living my dream as a dancer in south korea!!" you clutched your things close to you then strutted your way to the departure area.

dancing is a huge part of your existence. it is something you love to do and everyone knows it. dancing is your ultimate skill, your art of choice and your mode of therapy. then just after your dance teacher posted your video up on the internet, an email addressed to you changed everything. the email was sent by an agency looking for a specific dancer, well a short dancer that is.

see, you never really thought of hitting it big. yeah you are pretty and very experienced in a lot of style of dances but you lack in the height department. beauty standards nowadays just made you feel not too special to be casted at all. but hey, you certainly enjoyed underground dance battles and backing up local artists at your place.

that's why being contacted by a south korean entertainment industry came as a huge shock to you. the thought of the possibilities of meeting k-pop idols made you giddy as a schoolgirl. it is too soon the name names, isn't? you smiled to yourself getting comfortable in your seat. you looked out the window as the plane is about to take off south korea here i come.

you just need to take in the view, high glass ceiling, the place well lighted by glass walls and the modern architecture which made you realize you don't need to pinch yourself to reality.

you walked past the arrival sign and immediately saw a man holding a paper with your name on it. "안녕하세요 (hello)" you bowed to the man. he bowed back "you must be miss y/n, welcome to south korea. my name is jeon young hwan and i will be your chauffeur. shall i grab your luggages for you miss?" you slightly bowed again "sure young hwan씨. 감사합니다 (thank you)" such a gentleman and he is kinda cute. everything is going quite well for you so far.

it seemed like an hour drive when you finally arrived at the company building. it was huge. it made you even more excited when you saw nu'est and members of after school exit the building "kahi!!" you exclaimed unable to take your eyes off of her. "so, you are a fan of after school miss y/n," young hwan's words snapped you back to reality. "oh. 죄송합니다 (sorry) was i too loud?" your cheeks blushing from embarassment. "아니 (no). i think it is just natural for someone to react like that when they are starstrucked," young hwan smile at you through the rear mirror. "by the way miss y/n, as you can tell the builing on the left is the company building and here on the right will be your accomodation," young hwan swerved the van to the right and entered the parking area of the building.

he slid the door open and help you out of the van "now miss y/n, i will take you to your dorm" after reaching the seventh floor and walking past several doors from the elevator you finally reached your dorm "so this is it miss y/n, inside you will find a planner with your working schedules. as well as names of important people you should know working in the company and room numbers, floors you should be at during you schedule," young hwan stated like a pro. "감사합니다 (thank you)" you bowed then he returned you the gesture.

you open the door, not expecting too much. it was a very tiny room. but it still had its own bathroom, mini kitchen and a space for a small bed so it was still much better than you would have thought. you settled your bags inside, locked the door, went straight to the window and pulled the curtains aside. taking in the warmth of the sun and inhaling the korean air now, the adventure begins.

you cooked yourself ramen for dinner with kimchi at the side and banana milk as your desert. you then remembered to go through you planner for your first day tomorrow:

okay, 7am..

3rd floor room number 13

3hours practice 1hour break

okay..

hmmm.. ceo, han sung soo

stylist, kim nayeon

choreographer, choi youngjun

okay..

oh, what's this? looks some kind of id..

okay..

hmmm.. you took a big bite of ramen

no mention of any artist..

"oh well," you sighed

🍜💳📑📒

the next day you were up very early. too early that you didn't really know how to kill the rest of the time before 7am. "hmmm.. i guess i could walk around a bit to check out new places," so you wore your hoodie over your tanktop, wrapped your waistbag around you sweatpants and slinged your water bottle around your wrist.

as you stepped out of your building you inhaled the chilly korean air once again, which in turn gave you this boost of positive energy, or is it just a placebo effect? there were small hangout places in each corners of the street, a pet grooming shop with the cutest clients you have ever seen, a public park nearby where you saw kids smiling and waving at you before they ran to the slide. you looked at your watch "oh, its already 6am could the building be open by now?" you went back your path direct to the company building. there were workers cleaning the windows and it didn't look like there were anybody else but the cleaning team. you waved your hand at one crew "안녕하세요 (hello)," you bowed "is the building open?" you showed her your id. "안녕하세요 (hello), you may come in, though there is no one around yet. you may stay at the lobby in the meantime." the crew said. "감사합니다 (thank you)" you gave her a smile and bowed.

the place was a masterpiece. no wonder idols here are inspired to be more creative with their craft. you then noticed a narrow hallway with large posters adorning the wall. you looked at the posters and noted that the posters were of the artists of the entertainment agency. you passed by headshots of after school, you stopped at kahi's photo wow, those abs then at nana's photo she is so gorgeous. next you passed by hello venus and while you are on your way to the next group you caught yourself singing "씰룩씰룩 엉덩일 좌우로~ Wiggle, wiggle 더 느낌 있게~ 빙글빙글 조심스럽게~ 흔들어봐 흐흔들어봐~". then you saw ren of nu'est he looks prettier than me, sulking thinking about it. lastly you met the faces of seventeen, one of south korea's international idol groups. you just couldn't close your mouth in awe they are only pictures, what more if i met them in personal?

"ehem, 안녕하세요 (hello), you look new," a voice interupted your daydream. you looked back to see it was choi youngjun, the choreographer. "ah 안녕하세요 youngjun씨, my name is y/n" you politely bowed. "you are the new dancer, welcome to pledis entertaiment miss y/n" youngjun said after he bowed at you. "hey, are you heading to the dance pactice room?" he asked. "네 (yes) actually i am," you answered. "well then, let's go together,"

youngjun reached for the door and opened it for you. wow, this practice room is huge the room was well lit and there were mirrors everywhere. you can't help but smile at the thought that your dream is finally coming into life. next thing you know music blasted from the speakers. you moved your head to look for youngjun. "so y/n, show me what you got," youngjun said as he sat on a chair to observe you. is he challenging me? you smiled then dropped your things aside, tossing your hoodie with it as well.

without hesitation, you faced the mirror and started to move your body to the music. making your movements as fluid as you could possibly get with a few body popping moves to show your versatility. as you were already vibing with the music, youngjun suddenly changed the music to a latin-sultry kind of song. of course you didn't back down. you showed off your ballroom dancing skills with a dash of belly dancing to make your performance a tad bit sexy to impress the choreographer. you glaced at youngjun behind you through the mirror giving you a satisfied nod. he stood up from his seat and applaud "대박 (awesome) y/n. i am very impressed. you are exactly what we need,"

oh geez, stop it 😆

[wsgeon]

hey everyone! ummm this is peyton (also the mun of lee hyeon) taking a second shot at a second character — i have a lot of muse for this one, so i swear he’ll be around for a while… 🥵 this is ryu geon, yes his name rhymes with hyeon’s & no i do not care ♥️ he’s the lead guitarist/vocalist of meta and also the son of a former nobody rockstar, but i’ll get into all that below! like this post if you’d like for me to come into your ims to plot, click the read more for more info on geon, and/or click here to be taken to his pages: CAREER, DOSSIER, PINTEREST.

HISTORY.

born in autumn ‘97 to a “budding rockstar” (translation: “no yeah i swear our band’s really starting to take off, we sold twenty-three tickets to our last show!”) & a woman with commitment issues ♥️ geon’s dad always told him that his mom left because she had some dire matters that needed to be taken care of and SWORE that she cried the last time she held her dear baby boy, but all of his dad’s bandmates say that she was just some groupie and had to be persuaded into carrying her child to term… who can say for sure?

naturally, there are no pictures of this mystery woman. there was one (1) of her holding infant geon, but then he found out that that was actually a sound tech who worked for his dad’s band… and he just never corrected geon’s assumptions LOLLLL

anyway! he was always really close to his dad, considering they were a two-person family. he has a set of grandparents, an aunt and a couple cousins but they were never involved with geon’s life because his dad is the #blacksheep of the family. geon and his dad against the world, am i right?

uhhh geon was also kind of a black sheep growing up, but he didn’t really notice? he was a happy kid, very energetic and enthusiastic. a lot of adults in the area looked down on him & his dad, but he was SOOOO blind to it because his dad’s a god in his eyes and HE’S always been nice to everyone, so why would they not like him??? because his clothes smelled a little like dad’s cigarette smoke??? big deal

wasn’t troublesome (beyond talking too much), but a lot of people still expected bad things from him :/ “his father’s a dirtbag, i’ll be surprised if that boy doesn’t end up in jail by 20”, “he won’t amount to anything without a proper role model in his life”, “his dad is teaching him how to slack off”, “he won’t contribute anything to society”, etc. he kindaaa picked up on this as he got older but pretended not to because it was more rewarding to play dumb and keep being a good kid(tm) to prove them wrong

was basically a mini version of his dad. same style, similar features, birthmarks in the same places, same “live today, die tomorrow” approach in life, same affinity for singing & playing rock music. ummm he loved his dad a lot. a lot. a lot. wanted to make him proud SO BAD, started his first band when he was 15 and they sucked so bad but his dad was their biggest fan… you know how it is. a lot of people misunderstood him, but he was a very good guy and such a great parent

TW DEATH unfortunately he passed away just shy of geon’s 18th birthday and your boy still hasn’t forgiven the world for taking his dad when he was in the middle of his angsty teen phase — had he known that their time together was dwindling, he would’ve been so so so much better to him END TW

his dad’s band actually rocketed into the charts after he passed & suddenly they were getting loads of publicity, lots of “what a shame that he went under-appreciated” which pissed geon off SOOOO bad because why couldn’t they have had that energy when he was still alive? he’s still mad about it five/six years later

this is getting kinda long, so uhhh tl;dr, he ended up staying with the drummer of his dad’s band until he was old enough to live alone/READY to live alone, but he changed quite a bit. was really going through it, quit his band, stopped putting effort into school. barely graduated. went from being a social butterfly spending every weekend at a gig or with friends to spending all of his time on a pc or in front of a tv, playing console games. the internet comforted him when nobody else would/could and then he met the future members of meta <33333333 #newbeginnings

present day geon is still struggling, has to go to counseling bi-weekly but he’s coming back out of his shell! he wants to fall in love with life again, just wants to tread carefully... outgoing & will talk to absolutely anyone, but he still spends most of his time alone. hard to reach by text, so if you wanna talk to him, you better call/facetime LMAO. talks a mile a minute, especially if you get him going abt something he really likes. laughs a lot, smiles a lot, more habitual than actual signs of happiness but yk. ummm he has a really loud voice, mostly controlled nowadays but he still gets carried away sometimes. an absolute menace during long drives/flights, sorry meta.

funny but only when he’s in large groups. feeds off of other peoples’ energy, really good at reading a room and breaking the ice/making everyone comfortable, but if you meet him 1-on-1, none of his jokes land quite the same.

i envision him as being the kind of guy who carries himself in such a way that you’d assume he’s really popular/out of reach/maybe even full of himself, but he’s... not like that... at all... in fact, he’s kinda irritating when you get to know him. the personification of a flood followed by a drought and vice versa, always either too much or not enough. gets used/ghosted/dropped/dumped/whatever a lot because he’s soooo fun in the moment (if he isn’t in his feelings), but draining long-term.

really emotionally intelligent, in touch with his feelings in a way that a lot of people never thought he would be (probably thanks to counseling tbh). he’s very very rarely the type of person who will make you wonder what your place in his life is — he’s communicative, kind, honest. ummm he thinks that intimacy between friends needs to be more common, so he’s really affectionate with the people in his life. type of guy to tell you he loves you every chance he gets (calling you when he’s drunk, sounding like a clingy ex type beat) & greet you/depart with a hug. losing his dad kinda fucked him up in the way that he won’t leave/hang up until his friends say “i love you” back, gets kinda (re: very) upset if he’s denied that and/or a hug.

TRIVIA.

has been playing the guitar “longer than he’s been walking” (not really, but he swears it’s true).

uhhh he really likes nail art, but he’s kinda hesitant in what he tries? mainly sticks to black polish (or other plain colors), but sometimes he’ll get little designs added in as well. mainly does it himself because he still doesn’t feel comfortable in salons... if his work looks bad, leave him alone <3 he’s trying

inspired by people like kurt cobain, nicky wire, yungblud, billie joe armstrong & damiano david in the fact that he’s not against wearing dresses or skirts on stage. doesn’t do it ALL the time, but often enough that it doesn’t go unnoticed. some people say that he does it for attention because he doesn’t dress like that elsewhere and tbh they’re probably kinda right

interested in history (only SOME... dinosaurs, ancient civilizations, specialized areas like the history of circuses/clowns/skateboarding/punk, stuff like that yk), stand-up comedy & documentaries. could spend a whole day watching documentaries and would say he had fun, has a lot of useless knowledge that nobody gives a fuck about and is kinda dumb when it comes to things that matter

when it comes to music, he prefers playing really fast and heavy rock or punk over anything else, but he actually listens to a lot more soft indie on his own time... he’s too tense these days to be listening to anything else RIPPP

the vibe: homemade tie-dye, ripped slipknot t-shirts, frosted tips, neon crocs with alien & peace-sign charms, chipped black nail polish, calloused hands, cheesy pick-up lines used NOT to land a date but to pull a smile, driving until he’s lost, stupid socks paired with pressed suits, dramatic poetry in an iphone note, etc. 

PLOT IDEAS.

people he met through online support groups about coping with grief

uhhh an on & off relationship that’s been going for who-knows-how-long. the reason for this is up for discussion, but i imagine that he hasn’t given up yet because the constant highs and lows are a good source of inspo 🤪 artists must suffer for their art!

opposite side of the coin — someone he’s interested in, but he’s NOT disloyal so it’s a pattern of persistent courting when he’s single vs intense friend-zoning when he’s not and they’re getting tired of trying to figure out what he wants from them

someone else who likes nail art & can convince him that NOBODY cares if he goes to a salon

someone (probably female but doesn’t really matter tbh) who feels like his feminism is entirely performative… maybe they attack him directly for it or maybe they just REALLY don’t like him and they’re super vague about it idk. either way, please tell him that activism is much more than recommending one female artist a year and saying “clothes have no gender 🤪” so he can be praised for the bare minimum (his heart is in the right place but his skull is empty)

someone super introverted who comes out of their shell with geon! uhhh maybe they think that he’s the one doing them a favor, but in reality spending time with them has been doing wonders for his mental health

other people who like to skate. let’s congregate at the local skatepark and scare the middle schoolers away

someone who inspires him musically, for whatever reason. lots of late nights in studios, idly strumming his guitar and writing lyrics that definitely aren’t about how their eyes look in these dim lights… umm maybe he thinks he has a crush on them but really doesn’t and ends up hurting them eventually, maybe he really DOES have a crush but will (probably) never do anything abt it or maybe it’s entirely platonic and he just admires them a ridiculous amount

someone who likes to make music as a hobby, prob won’t publish/release any of it but it’s fun to imagine. spontaneous meetings with geon in the middle of the night, recording songs together and keeping the WORST takes for the laughs. there’s probably a diss-track of them going in on each other floating around somewhere even though geon can’t rap for shit

night owls who keep him company on the phone, even if they can’t be there physically. them talking really quietly vs geon shouting at them while he plays games LMAO

gaming buddies. come over, maybe you can carry geon through his game of the week or you can both fail but have fun while you’re at it… or you can scream while he fends off that hoard of zombies behind you

i’m typing this at the last minute (literally) so i’m gonna stop here, but i will get a proper plots page put up asap with a wider variety of connections!!! but as always, please do let me know if you have any other ideas. i’m always happy to plot and write with you all 🌚

[ollyarchive]

Olly Alexander Is Done With Shame

Like the character he plays in “It’s a Sin,” the actor and singer struggled with being gay. Now, he tells the world everything.

By Anna Leszkiewicz

Feb. 19, 2021Updated 9:22 a.m. ET

LONDON — When Olly Alexander burst into tears shooting a scene of “It’s a Sin,” no one was very surprised.

Making the show, which came to HBO Max on Thursday and follows a group of friends embracing the gay culture of ’80s London under the shadow of AIDS, was emotional for many of the cast and crew — and Alexander is as comfortable showing his vulnerabilities as the character he plays, Ritchie, is at deflecting them.

“I was a complete mess after the first take,” Alexander, 30, said in a recent video interview. “I was sobbing.” Peter Hoar, the director of “It’s a Sin,” paused filming.

The scene in question, which comes after Ritchie and his friends are arrested protesting the British government’s inaction on AIDS, is one of many in the show that explore how the epidemic devastated gay men’s lives.

When we meet Ritchie, he is an impishly confident but naïve 18-year-old who has just moved to London, with dreams of becoming an actor. Alexander also moved to the capital from rural England at 18 and scored his first movie role, but today he is better known as the lead singer of the band Years & Years. “It’s a Sin” is his first acting gig in six years.

Years & Years’s music often explores the relationship between desire and shame, and is heavily influenced by ’80s bands like Pet Shop Boys. (“It’s a Sin” takes its title from that group’s song of the same name.) So when Alexander heard Russell T Davies, the show’s creator, was interested in him for the lead role, the opportunity “made poetic sense,” Alexander said.

In an interview, Davies said the show was “cast gay as gay, which is my policy.” For Ritchie, he added, he wanted an out actor who already had a big profile in Britain. “That almost narrows it down to a field of one,” he said. “It was the simplest audition of my life.”

Alexander’s arch performance as Ritchie suggests that the character’s ambition and bravado are reactions to fear and self-loathing. “I realized straight away, ‘Oh, I know who Ritchie is,’” Alexander said. “He’s trying to get onstage and shine and dazzle: I’ve done that.”

But whereas Ritchie masks his vulnerabilities, Alexander has spoken frankly in interviews and onstage with the band about his experiences of bulimia, anxiety, self-harm and depression.

“I’ve said just everything about myself,” he said. “My life is kind of out there now.”

Alexander grew up in Gloucestershire, in western England, where his mother founded a local music festival. His father, an aspiring musician, worked in amusement parks.

It was a creative household, Alexander said, but his father had mental health problems and substance abuse issues that led to a difficult atmosphere at home. When he was 14, his parents separated; he’d only seen his father a handful of times since, he said.

School was an even more fraught environment, and Alexander experienced homophobic bullying from age 9. “I had long blond hair, and I acted quite feminine,” he said. “That made me a target. And kids can be so cruel.”

As Alexander recalled his younger self, he started to cry. It took many years until he could look back at the child he was with compassion, he said. “But that’s the biggest thing I’ve tried to do,” he added. The impact of his childhood is something he’s still processing in weekly therapy, he said.

When Alexander’s high school classmates went to college, he moved to East London and became a jobbing actor while babysitting and waiting tables. A pale, skinny teenager with a nest of tight curls, he landed roles as the tuberculosis-ridden younger brother of Ben Whishaw’s Keats in the film “Bright Star,” and an anguished drug user in Gaspar Noé’s trippy art movie “Enter the Void.”

Alexander had been living in London for a couple of years when he met his Years & Years bandmates, Mikey Goldsworthy and Emre Türkmen. Though they started out making high-minded, Radiohead-inspired electronic music, Alexander pushed the band toward synth-pop, with big, melodramatic choruses full of longing.

In 2015, the band’s exhilarating but anguished song “King” — about the strange thrill of being treated badly in a relationship — reached No. 1 on the British singles chart, and its debut album, “Communion,” topped the album charts, too.

“His songs are his life,” said the producer Mark Ralph, who has worked with Years & Years from the band’s earliest days “If you want to know what’s gone on in Olly’s life, then you just read all his lyrics.”

“Love takes its toll on me,” Alexander sings in “Sanctify,” a song about a secret liaison with a straight man. “And I won’t, and I won’t, and I won’t be ashamed.”

When the band performed the song at the Glastonbury Festival in 2016, soon after the shooting at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Fla., a rainbow-clad Alexander told the crowd, “I’m here, I’m queer, and, yes, sometimes I’m afraid.” But, he added, “I am never ashamed, because I am proud of who I am.”

The speech caught the interest of TV producers, and, in 2017, he fronted a BBC documentary called “Olly Alexander: Growing Up Gay.” In it, he returns to his family home and leafs through teenage diaries full of references to bulimia and self-harm. On camera, he tells his mother about the bullying at school for the first time: Through tears, they discuss how it led him to mental health problems in his teenage years.

“It’s a lot to ask someone to bare their soul on national television,” said Vicki Cooper, the TV movie’s director. “But those difficult conversations created the best moments in the film.”

That documentary, and Alexander’s openness about his own mental health, mean he gets a lot of messages on social media from fans who are struggling themselves. He used to try to respond to them, he said, but the quantity has become impossible to keep up with.

Through those messages, though, Alexander had “seen a really emotionally vulnerable side to a lot of people,” he said. “That’s a precious thing, actually.”

Alexander had also been humbled by the positive response to “It’s a Sin” in Britain, he said. The show broke records for the streaming service All4, where it aired, with 6.5 million streams.

“It’s a Sin” first appeared on All4 during National H.I.V. Testing Week; on social media, the show’s cast encouraged viewers to get tested. The Terrence Higgins Trust, an H.I.V. nonprofit, said that the number of people taking tests through their service had almost quadrupled in the weeks afterward.

“People living with H.I.V. now can live normal, healthy lives: It’s so important to get that message out,” Alexander said, adding that treatments for the virus had transformed since the ’80s. “I’m really grateful that these conversations are happening, because, honestly, lots of people really didn’t know what was going on in this period of history. They’re shocked to learn about it now.”

That era is also having an influence on Alexander’s music. He is currently recording new material with Years & Years, inspired by the ’80s dance anthems of the “It’s a Sin” soundtrack and beyond: Donna Summer, New Order, Pet Shop Boys.

“During the pandemic, I wanted to listen to super upbeat club music that made me dance around,” he said. “I found myself wanting to create the fantasy and the energy that I haven’t necessarily been experiencing.”

As well as working on new music, Alexander said he had spent the lockdowns in England watching “Real Housewives” episodes, and playing Animal Crossing. “I used to be so, so driven,” he said, but now he was putting less pressure on himself.

He was happy, he added, to think back on what he’d already achieved, and how much has changed since he was a little boy who wished he wasn’t gay.

“I’ve kept a diary since I was 13 years old,” he said. “Sometimes I look at it and think I can tell this kid: ‘You’re going to do amazing things. You’re going to get to where you are now. It’s OK. You got this.’”

Hugo Yangüela contributed additional camera operating for photographs.

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXVIII: Four Pomegranate Seeds

Back in elementary school, I had a crush on this girl named Pomme. Being as young as I was, I didn’t know how to act on my feelings. All I knew was that I wanted to be friends with her. But those feelings were uneasy, as well, and it would present itself as a silly mixture of wanting to be near her at all times and also wanting to steer clear of her at all times.

What resulted was us spending time together on the playground, playing and having fun, but also a strong desire to hide and find somewhere else to be whenever the opportunity presented itself. Another thing that would happen was that I would act in ways that I should have known better than to have acted.

One defining instance was in third grade when our class took a field trip to the local beach. Everyone had plenty of fun and splashed others with water, made sandcastles, and little sand angel imprints. Pomme and I, however, sat off away from the others. She too was building something out of sand, but it wasn’t a castle. It didn’t look like anything in particular. Maybe she just wanted to make a pile. I recall trying to help her, adding little sticks to the top.

At one point, she leaned close to me said, “I wanna tell you a secret.” I felt little things in my arms and legs do a funny dance and my heart performed circus tricks.

“Wh...what is it?” I asked, a little bit on the nervous side.

She then pressed her face up to my ear and whispered, “I want to eat sand.”

It wasn’t what I expected to hear, but some part of me still saw it as an opportunity. Opportunity for what, I didn’t know, but I stood up anyway.

“You should go for it! I think if you want to eat sand, and if it makes you happy, then you gotta eat sand!” I felt so proud and I was sure I imagined myself as some kind of superhero.

Next thing I recall, however, was that the teacher dragged a crying Pomme toward me while I played out on the beach.

“Did you tell Pomme to eat sand?” The teacher asked. I looked over to Pomme and she was bawling her eyes out and saying how it tasted gross. I knew I was in trouble. I just nodded my head real slow.

“That’s not right. Proserpina, I have no choice but to write you a referral,” the teacher’s grim expression sealed my fate, and my perfect record was about to be tainted. “Now, apologize to Pomme.”

I looked over. It was a horrid sight.

“Sorry…” My voice trailed off as I only managed that one word.

“For?” The teacher pressed.

“For telling you to eat sand,” I added on, my words weak and flimsy.

“It’s so grody!” Pomme whined, and she spat out bits of sand from her mouth while at the same time I noticed snot run down her nose.

After that fateful field trip, Pomme and I stopped talking to each other. We avoided each other and word spread that I was some kind of bully that made other kids eat sand. Not a great time to be alive. In the next grade, I didn’t see her at all, and I heard she changed schools. From time to time I would think about what became of her. How I wondered if she ever came around to the taste of sand, or if she ever came up with a different wish. But whatever the case may be, I never knew. Once she was gone, I never saw nor heard from her for the rest of my days.

So what was the point of that recollection? Was it to say that I’m bisexual? No, because that would’ve only taken two words: “I’m bisexual.”

There, I said it. OK. So was it to say that I knew what it was like to act weird over a crush, so I could relate to my former roommate/friend? Well, sure, but the difference back then was that I was a little kid and my former roommate was in her 20s. In other words, I was justified.

Nor was that recollection meant to foreshadow that I would see that childhood friend again. There was no, “or so I thought.” Nothing like that. As much as part of me wishes it were so, I didn’t mind if it never happened. Some friends came and went through our lives and as great of a time as we may have had, they end up not leaving much of an impact. Maybe it was that when we parted with friends as kids, it was during more fun or carefree moments, so it didn’t seem to matter as much. Or it could have been that there were so many other friends to make due to being surrounded by people your own age.

That could have just been me. I wouldn’t say my experiences were universal, but it may have been easier to move on when there were others to flock to when one person left. I wasn’t really sure what the differences were. Things were the same at university, weren’t they? Maybe growing up took from me that carefree innocence or maybe I just found myself a stranger in what was once so familiar to me.

It was hard to say.

Those memories resurfaced, as if washing ashore after being lost at sea. There wasn’t any particular feeling attached other than the feeling of nostalgia. But it wormed its way in, found itself a home and dwelt in my mind rent-free.

“I think we should be apart for a while,” I told my boyfriend, Hades. I loved that cute, redheaded boy with his puffy hair, but it was just the environment.

It wasn’t the memory which spurned such a decision, but there was a general sense of longing.

“You mean like a break up?” He asked.

“No, nothing like that. I just think I need to go back to university. Like, physically. I still want to finish my education and it’s just been hard to do while living here. Please understand.”

“I do,” was what he told me.

Still, I was hesitant as I re-enrolled and opened the door to the dorm room.

“Looks like I’m back,” I muttered to myself and gulped.

In a strange sort of luck, I had been assigned the same room I had before I left – when I thought I had left for good. School had become too much for me as more and more of my time was spent living with Hades at his mom’s house. He exhumed corpses for a living and his mother was a mortician – I helped her out with that, made myself some money in the process. It was a nice, humble sort of living. But maybe hanging around stiff, dead folks wasn’t my cup of tea. Maybe it never was, and I just thought I could do it because I was doing something that my boyfriend loved doing.

Oh, how foolish that was.

The dorm’s setup was just the same as I had left it, as well: rather than multiple rooms, it was all one room and it had a bunk bed at the corner of the wall.

Yet the room was empty, save for the backs that I set upon the floor. Not just an empty in that there wasn’t much there, but that there was an absence present, one I couldn’t quite articulate.

Or maybe I can articulate all too well, I thought as the image of my former roommate came up. How her absence was felt, yet the absences of all those friends who came and went throughout childhood seemed to mean so little. That was another reason I dropped out: after she left, abrupt and without explanation, I was so focused on trying to find her, hoping that she was alive and well and save, that I just couldn’t focus on my studies. Whether it be the environment or the distress, it just wasn’t the right time.

I plopped down, headfirst on the bottom bunk of the bed. Fresh floral scent of clean sheets filled my nostrils and a serene smile forced its way out of me.

“It’s the right time now,” I sighed, a hint of ecstasy, “I’m back home.”

There were still things in my mind which wouldn’t go away. My registration said that I had a roommate already chosen, but didn’t provide a name, and I also didn’t see anyone upon entering.

Heh. Wasn’t it like this when I first met Demetria as well? I was already situated and made comfortable and I thought she must have been my roommate’s younger sister. Man, I feel bad about that. It feels like I was making fun of her height, which I did not mean to do at all. But I’m guessing I felt bad at the time too. Maybe nothing changes after all.

Somehow I had passed out. What brought me out of my sleep was a ticklish sensation as I felt something nudge against me. In a jolting panic, I bolted up and almost hit my head on the ceiling of the top bunk in the process.

“You. You’re in my bed,” groaned a hoarse, yet high-pitched voice. While that may have sounded like a contradiction, it wasn’t: I heard both a bird-like chirp as well as the tone of someone who had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed or went all day during the height of a heatwave without a drop of water.

I turned to see a cloaked girl, on the hinges of five feet tall and with messy blonde hair.

“Demetria?” I asked, surprised, and my voice just a little groggy as well.

“No. Hecate,” my new roommate corrected, “I don’t know who this ‘Demetria’ is, but that’s not me. Now get out of my bed.”

How specific of a denial. Hmm…

“What makes you think this is your bed?” I argued and scowled for good measure.

“I need to sleep closest to the floor so I can have easiest access to my rituals!” She explained, which explained nothing, but for emphasis, she slammed her stick down. “Especially because I have not yet mastered broom riding, so sleeping closer to the ceiling is not recommended at my current level as I could accidentally end up floating out the window in my sleep and falling to my death upon waking up.”

I...had no words. So instead, I tilted my head, let my jaw hang, and one word escaped from me:

“What?”

She sighed and shook her head.

“I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. No, of course I do. Mortals don’t know any better. Very well: I am a witch. Get it now?”

“Like Wicca?” I asked in earnest. Far be it for me to make fun of someone, especially if it was a religious thing.

“No, I’m a creature of dark arts and forbidden sorcery, bound to this earth to curse any who dare cross my path. Animals cower before me, save for this frog I found the other day,” she reached into her cloak and pulled out a small box, opened it up, then a frog hopped out. I freaked out and stood on end away from the bed.

“You released a frog in our dorm!” I was outraged.

“Yes, that frog is my familiar,” she stated all proud with her hands on her hips, ���also, my bed now.”

She curled up all snug on the bottom bunk. Somehow I felt as if I had been tricked. Bamboozled, even.

“Come on, really? I was here first!” I whined.

She glared at me. Somewhere around the bed, the frog was still nearby, hopping and croaking about.

“I’ll relent and give you the bottom bunk if you decide to become my apprentice. Deal?”

It really wasn’t worth it, I could have just taken the top. I used to love the top. But there was a nostalgia attached, something which told me it was only right, it was just, to take the bottom bunk.

“Sure. Deal,” I agreed, though it all seemed ridiculous, if I was being honest.

“The contract has been sealed. You are now bound to me,” she stated in what seemed like the lowest voice she could muster.

“I’m what now?”

Rather than answer, she got up and took to the ladder. Once she was on the top bunk, she poked her head down and glared at me.

“Just so you know, if I fall to my death in my sleep, I will curse you and your bloodline for all eternity.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I shrugged off the vague (possible) threat. For what it was worth, I didn’t think there was much of a bloodline to curse in the first place. I had no intention of raising any children. Besides, Hades couldn’t have gotten me pregnant even if he wanted to, though he did express some desire to undergo bottom surgery, just not any time soon.

While every cell in my body begged for me to stay in bed, I had other business to attend to and the day was far from over.

“I’m going to the campus bookstore. Gotta pick up stuff for my classes,” I told my roommate.

“Don’t know why you feel the need to tell me that, but okay,” Hecate replied, and it rubbed me the wrong way. If it had been my past roommate, she would have said something much different. Things like:

“I’m proud of you.”

(Okay, that one was a stretch)

“That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“Good for you.”

Or even, “make sure you keep focused on your studies and actually use your textbooks.”

Even if she could be rude at times, and it always seemed like she was in her own world where nobody else mattered, I really appreciated that she tried to keep me focused and stressed the importance of study.

Once, I recall ranting about relationships and romance, two things which occupied about 75% of my mind at any given time.

“What am I going to do now that Myron dumped me? Man, I thought we were perfect,” I complained just the day after she saw me break down and confide in her.

As usual, her nose was stuck in a book. Knowing her, it was one about fish or other marine creatures.

“Uh...I wasn’t paying attention,” she commented, “I don’t care, but give me the rundown again?”

I sucked in a large amount of air, even coughed up a bit of dust particles (our dorm really needed an air purifier or a better ventilation system), then explained in the most concise way fathomable: “So I was dating this guy named Myron, right? Boring name, but seemed like a cool dude. Then I was walking out from one of my classes and he stops me in the middle of the hall and goes: ‘Sorry, Proserpina, but Athena is just hotter than you, so I’m gonna pursue her instead’ like a total asshole and it seemed so out of left field. I was pretty attached and it left me devastated and now it’s still on my mind and it’s hard to focus on my schoolwork as a result.”

“Mm...that sounds dumb,” Demetria replied in the blunt manner that she could at times, “but did you know that jellyfish are mostly water?”

“Yeah, I think I heard about that one before. Maybe from you,” I answered her question without much thought, then realized that I had distracted myself from the topic at hand, “but anyway! What do you think?”

“Uh...do you really want my advice? Because I don’t have any advice.”

“Yes! Something, please.”

“Okay...uh...so he’s dating Athena now? Also, what are up with these names? Like, do we go to some goddess school or something?”

I waved my hand away.

“No, he’s not, he just wants to.”

“Okay. Maybe try dating Athena, then? That’ll show your ex...guy...thing.”

“No, that sounds too petty. My heart wouldn’t be in it, anyway. I’ve never even spoken to Athena.”

I’m amazed that she didn’t even think to question whether or not I’d be into girls. Maybe I haven’t given her enough credit.

“If you’re so keen on dating, why not that Apollo guy? Is there an Apollo guy? I think there is. I heard he’s into justice and whatnot, so he seems like an upstanding guy. Better than whoever Byron is.”

“Myron,” I corrected, “and I don’t think there’s any Apollo.”

“There isn’t? Then where did I hear the name Apollo Justice before? Oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t even be thinking about that stuff. We’re here to learn, not find the love of our lives. Focus on your studies and you’ll be fine,” she advised.

Despite her insistence that school was more important, it was just hard for me to concentrate on what was important. It was always that way, which made it a miracle that I even managed to graduate high school, let alone make it to university.

Besides that, she didn’t know my history, what it was like to live in my head. How could she when she was always in her own? Not to disparage her, but it did appear to be the case, no matter how much she nagged at me to get a good sleep and eat well and study. Yes, it probably seemed like I was the popular girl in high school, or that I dated around, couldn’t ever make up my mind, but that wasn’t quite true.

Friends were hard to come by. Like actual, good, honest friends. Yes, I had a few and we liked to laugh together and stay up late chatting over Facetime. But there wasn’t really much in the way of parties or big get togethers. Maybe I seemed like the type who would take part in those things, yet I just didn’t for whatever reason. It was actually somewhat of a shame when I thought about it, since I was sure I’d enjoy big hangouts or parties. It wasn’t a shyness or a pretentious feeling that I was too good for such things. It was just...I didn’t know what it was.

But it is true that I might have put more of an emphasis on relationships than I needed to. Dating, romance, they were things I longed for, enjoyed, but...well, I was in a happy, loving one now, and so I just didn’t need to think about such things. Friends, too, were a thing of the past, as first there was Demetria, and soon after, I lost contact with the few other friends I had. Hades counted, but…

I wasn’t sure. He didn’t come to mind very often anymore, even while I lived with him. When he did, it was usually made as an excuse to something rather than anything else.

There was little of note at the bookstore, few people were there and the whole thing looked like a ghost town. Even had there been more people, I wouldn’t have paid them much mind. I saw no reason to do so.

When I returned to my dorm room carrying several books in both hands up several flights of stairs, I noticed how quiet everything was.

It was quiet back then, too.

After I set the books down on the floor next to my bags (I’d put them in the closet later) I looked up and saw Hecate fast asleep with her frog on her lap.

“I guess she’s allowed to. She probably had a long day,” I remarked. From that angle, she actually looked peaceful and not an immature child fresh out of high school. Even her frog was still, aside from the little croaks.

Maybe there’s some validity to that frog being a familiar, I thought, but soon dismissed that same thought just as soon as it appeared.

I tried to pull out some of the textbooks and read in bed so as to get a head start on my classes. But it wasn’t long before all the words started to flow together and made less sense the more I went on. My eyelids fluttered, then turned heavy, and soon I passed out with my head in the middle of a textbook. When I awoke, sticky drool had flowed from out of my mouth and ran off until it found a home in the crevice between the two pages of the book.

I jolted up in a panic.

“What? How can this be?! I’ve never drooled before!” I shouted, enough that I woke my witchy roommate by accident.

“Ugh...can you keep it down? Witches require twice the amount of sleep that a normal person does,” she groaned above me.

I’ve got a feeling that’s not true, but I’m not gonna call her out on it.

“Yeah, sorry,” I mumbled, then pulled out a handkerchief and wiped up the drool. Just by that, it was clear that I was off to a terrible restart.

How did Demetria do it? How did she keep her nose in a book at all times and do nothing but study, study, study? It’s driving me mad just thinking about it.

As days passed, I attended classes and did my best to concentrate on what was taught. Without fail, however, something else always seemed to pop into my head and I would end up missing everything that the professor said.

There are so many students here staring with intent. It’s admirable, but how do they manage to do that? Are they all robots programmed to look at whoever’s in the front of the room? Lecture hall? Whatever it be? What if I were to stand up and walk to the front and just start pacing around, would they all look at me as well? That sounds narcissistic. I wouldn’t want them to. It’s just a little thought. For some reason I get the eerie feeling that they would. I wouldn’t even have to say anything.

By the time that whole string of thoughts ceased, I focused back in on what the professor was lecturing about.

“– And that’s how no-till farming works,” he explained. Our professor, Prof. Breeder, was a burly man with a long beard and tight fitting overalls. He spoke in a Southern drawl and it was like he lived everything he taught. At least that was my impression of him. I forgot everything he said about himself during the first day, so I could have been totally wrong and just making assumptions.

Class was soon dismissed without me having learned anything. I headed back off to my dorm room to give myself a break before the next class. I had two classes on Wednesdays, one ended right at noon, and the other started at 2 PM. Which gave me a two hour break to wind down and prepare.

As soon as I opened the door to my dorm, I was paralyzed in fear.

“What. Is. Going. On?” I stammered out the words.

There, seated in the middle of the floor, was Hecate, with a large black ceramic pot. She had a large ladle in her hand and seemed to be stirring something. I looked below the pot to see a portable hot plate.

“Hi. I’m brewing potions,” she stated without looking up, too focused on her concoction. I peered over to see a brownish tinged liquid and little potato and carrot pieces. Steam billowed from it, a faint scent of chicken permeated through the air.

Great. And I just got this place air freshened, too.

“Why are you making soup in our dorm?” I balked.

“I’m not making soup. They’re potions. I already told you that,” she groaned, then held up a wooden spoon that I failed to notice had been sitting beside her, “would you like a sample?”

I leaned in and wrapped my mouth around the spoon, then swallowed its contents in one fell swoop. Despite its searing heat, I didn’t mind, and the taste seemed to seep into every one of my taste buds and overtake my tongue. There was no denying it: there wasn’t just a faint chicken scent, but the exact taste of chicken stock broth. More than that, the potatoes seemed to have melted into the broth to create an equal measure smooth and creamy taste, something I didn’t even think possible.

“Oh. Oh wow,” I was near-speechless.

“It’s a love potion,” she explained, “I will not hold myself liable for any adverse side-effects.”

A...what potion?

“Uh, just so you know,” I spoke with an uncomfortable amount of hesitance, “I’ve got a boyfriend already.”

“That’s nice, though I never asked.”

How...how bold, I thought, before I realized that my thoughts were wrong, so changed course, no, what I should say is, “how rude.”

“It’s...it’s just that people don’t usually feed other people soup, don’t you think?” I tried to justify myself, something which I didn’t really need to do.

“It’s not soup, it’s a potion, and I wasn’t feeding you, I was just letting you have a taste. The rest of it’s mine. If you want a vial of it later, I will sell it to you.”

Is she seriously going to sell soup as if it’s a love potion?

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a short nap before my next class,” I announced. To my surprise, she had something to say which didn’t involve being a witch.

“I don’t mind. I have chronic fatigue, so I get it.”

It really did feel like I was beginning to learn more about her.

Demetria also used to feed me. It wasn’t a lovers thing, though. Heaven’s no. In fact, I found it kind of annoying sometimes.

I’d wake up past my alarm, running late for class, and she’d berate me for not getting to sleep at a better time. When I was ready to head out the door, she’d always stop me and go.

“Make sure you’re eating well! Here, take this apple! And I made you a PB&J!”

Reluctant, I would take the sandwich bag and apple, and scoff.

“Thanks, mom,” I rolled my eyes, then ran off to class.

Now, I would’ve given anything to have that again. Someone like that there to remind me to eat well, sleep well, keep me focused. Even if it could get annoying, or if there was some possibility of her doing those things for some selfish sense of superiority (maybe she found me pathetic), I still think I took all of those things for granted back then.

In some ways, I admired her desire to focus on studies and lack of interest in relationships. I remember once I stayed up late chatting with a friend over the phone.

“So I think everyone knows the History Professor is banging the English Professor but nobody wants to say anything because it’s none of our business, but it’s just so annoying how obvious it is,” my friend, Clytie, relayed to me.

“Yeah, it’s really not my business, either, and they’re both adults and as long as they’re being professional, why should I care?” I tried to be engaged with her topic, but it was of little interest to me, I’ll admit.

I felt a painful thud as my mattress jumped about an inch or two in the air. I knew what it was right away: Demetria kicked her leg up against the top bunk.

“Keep it down,” she rasped, “I’m trying to read about electric eels. You need your sleep, anyway.”

“Who was that?” Clytie asked.

I waved my hand away.

“That was just my roommate. I’m sure I told you about her before.”

Clytie gave off her little dolphin laugh.

“Maybe, but I don’t remember much unless it has to do with me, tee-hee.”

“To be honest, she can be kinda annoying,” I admitted to Clytie.

“If that’s what you think of me, then I guess I’ll stop making you breakfast and packing you lunches,” Demetria threatened.

“No! Don’t!” I pleaded. As embarrassing as it was, I really didn’t want her to stop.

“Ha ha, well, I’ll let you two have your little spat. Goodnight,” Clytie teased, then hung up.

I scowled, but I really should have been trying to sleep.

What? Did Clytie think it was a lovers’ quarrel? Because it’s nothing like that. I’m not even sure Demetria’s ever thought about romance. Well, now I’m a little bit curious.

“Hey Demetria. Romance?” I inquired.

“Not tonight, busy,” she replied.

“No, not with me!”

“Wait, what were you asking?” She was clueless. Lost in her studies once again.

“Never mind. I’m going to try to sleep,” I dismissed.

“Good, doing the right thing for once,” she commented, all smug, too.

There were times when I thought she had an interest in me, what with how attached she was and she acted all disapproving with any relationship I was in and how she was always telling me to eat more, eat better, sleep better, study. But a quick thought made me realize that it was just her acting like a mom. Sure, I scoffed and rolled my eyes, but that must have been what it was the whole time. I wasn’t even sure if she was aware of it, herself.

As it so happened, the longer I went at things, trying to finish up my education, the more I thought about Demetria. It felt odd, and I wish I didn’t have to. It would have been much better to have moved on and accepted that I probably wouldn’t ever see her again. But there had to be some reason why she lingered on in my mind, right? It couldn’t have been coincidence.

I might have grown desperate for any sort of sign, I’ll admit, but I started to wonder if maybe Hecate was Demetria, but in disguise? It made no sense, yes, but like a conspiracy theorist, I started to hold onto the slightest of connections:

Short

Blonde hair

Weird

I’ll admit, that wasn’t much to go off of and could have applied to a great number of people and there were certain things that should have tipped me off that it wasn’t her. For example, I once tried to get her to open up about herself just a little more. Aside from the witch comments, she seemed really reserved and guarded.

“Hey Hecate, what do you study, anyway?” I asked.

“Chemistry,” she replied, buried under the covers of her bed.

“Really? I would’ve thought culinary arts, since your sou...potions.”

“Witches are already born with the knowledge to make potions, silly. But chemistry is a magic I’ve yet to master.”

“I see. So you have no interest in fish? Marine biology?”

“No. I don’t like water. Ever seen Wizard of Oz?”

Okay, that just seemed silly, but as long as she still drank water, I wouldn’t argue.

“So no interest in fish, then?” I tried to press further.

“I’ve already got a frog, isn’t that enough?” She asked in a pleading voice.

It was possible that she didn’t have interest in marine biology. I remember before she left, she had express losing interest in her studies, something which surprised me, and should’ve been a sign that she had changed. So maybe it wasn’t a stretch to think that she had changed her name, or found a new field of study. But just to be sure…

“How old are you, Hecate?”

“In this current life, I’m 19, but I’ve been older in past lives. Are there any more questions, because I’m having brain trouble and need to recover.”

“Oh. Sorry, sorry. I just thought maybe…” No, I shouldn’t say anything more. It’s not right. If Hecate was telling the truth, then she couldn’t have been Demetria, as if Demetria was still alive and out there somewhere, she would have been 24.

“What?” She asked. I should have known better than to say those four words. I should have stopped at ‘sorry, sorry.’

“I just thought...uh…maybe we met before?” I tried to keep things vague.

“Hm. I don’t know. Memory’s not good right now. How old are you?”

“23,” I answered.

“Okay. Then probably not.”

Hecate scrunched up her face and turned away, and I couldn’t tell whether I had bothered her, or if it was part of her condition. That really made me wonder, too: how did she get to and from class? For the life of me, I’ve never seen her leave the dorm. At least I knew with Demetria that she’d attend all her classes, even if her mind was preoccupied with whatever book she held in her hand.

There were other things I wondered, too, like why she wore that cloak around all the time. Was she hiding something? If I were to see her without the cloak, would it reveal something about her? It didn’t seem like she’d take it off if I asked her, and that would have been an odd request anyway, but I couldn’t help but wonder.

Despite my best efforts to put my suspicion to rest, it all culminated in one night, midway through the first semester: I had come home late, as I had further questions for my professor after the afternoon class ended, then I was hungry, so I got something to eat out at the town. By the time I got back, it was already close to dusk. All that to say, I was wiped.

Of course, I should have expected some sort of wacky activity to take place, seeing as it often happened, and that night was no exception. When I opened the door, I saw her with a large sheet of construction paper and letters and numbers written all over. She sat, head down, slumped, and I wondered if she was in some sort of trance.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Oh. Hey. I had to draw my own spirit board because my mom doesn’t want me having an ouija board. She’s very superstitious even though she already knows that I’m a witch, so any demons I end up in contact with I can just make them my familiar, or kill them, as I’m more powerful than them. Anyway, I can communicate with the dead.”

“Really now?” I raised an eyebrow, skeptical of the prospect.

“Yeah. Do you know anyone who died? I can talk to them,” she sounded elated at the idea, so much that I couldn’t help but indulge her.

“Well, I had a cat when I was little who died.”

“What was their name?”

“Zagreus,” I answered, though I had to think hard about that one. I wasn’t the one who named him and my parents never really explained their reasoning as to why or how they came up with that name.

“Humu, humu…” Hecate hummed, then started to lower her voice to a chant, “I call upon the spirit of Zagreus to use my body as a vessel as to communicate with Proserpina.”

A few seconds passed and she moved her hand around the paper, though rather than spelling out any words, she just went, “mew mew.”

Then she opened her eyes wide and looked up.

“That was all I was able to get out of him,” she explained, “I’ll be honest, most of the time I don’t know what cats are saying.”

Really, I didn’t know what else to expect.

“Zagreus is the son of Persephone, right?” Hecate asked.

I stood, stunned and unsure how to react.

“Probably. I don’t really know,” I replied. That was more something Demetria would have known. “How do you know that?”

She shrugged.

“Your cat told me.”

I wanted to call her out on how ridiculous that was, but before I could, I heard a knock at the door. I opened and in came three girls, all cheerful and laughing.

“Hey, nice to meet you! We’re Hecate’s friends,” one of them greeted, a girl in a striped T-shirt and beret and about my height. She looked like one of those people who would be hard to spot in a crowd.

“Yeah, nice to meet you,” I mumbled and was rather surprised to meet any friends of Hecate’s, let alone some who would come to see her.

“I hope she hasn’t given you too much trouble. I know she can be a handful sometimes,” another one of the girls mentioned, that one with short, blue hair, and braces.

“No, not really. We get along okay,” I replied, and I was still just a little speechless and, dare I say, a little nervous to boot. I really wasn’t expecting guests.

The third girl, one with red hair and two pigtails went up to Hecate. She wore glasses and looked rather thin and frail and seemed about as tall as Hecate. Much of her resembled Demetria, but her face seemed just a little too round and was just a little too pale to have been her.

“Here’s the notes I took for your class today,” she handed Hecate a sheet of paper and I watched as Hecate took it.

“What’s that for?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I have trouble getting to my classes sometimes, so I often ask one of my friends to take notes for me. I always make sure to take classes that don’t grade based on attendance so it’s easier for me,” Hecate explained.

Oh. Because of the fatigue...jeez, I never realized.

“Here’s this, too,” the blue haired one handed Hecate a book. It could have been a textbook and innocent enough, but when I saw the title, my eyes lit up and my mind went into overdrive.

‘Bluefin Tuna and Other Creatures of the Deep’.

“No...no way…” I muttered.

“What? What’s wrong?” One of the other girls asked, but I didn’t take note of which one, because I was caught up in such a frenzy. In that moment, I was so sure that I was right.

“I knew it! You are Demetria! How long were you going to keep it from me? Huh?” I shouted. Everyone around me looked confused, but I was so sure.

“What are you talking about?” Hecate asked, but I didn’t want to play anymore games. I reached down and grabbed for her cloak.

“Hey! Leave me alone!” Hecate cried out as she squired. I pulled the hood down and sure enough, I saw: blonde twintails.

“Ha! You even have the same hairstyle as her! There’s no way it’s not you!”

Hecate grabbed for her hood and looked around in panic. She looked ready to break into tears.

“I’M NOT YOUR STUPID FRIEND!” She yelled, then pulled the hood back over her head.

She may not have always acted in a smart manner, but I refuse to let her be called stupid, I thought, and I balled my hand into a fist, ready to throw down.

“What’s wrong with you?” The striped shirt girl asked. “Are you a bully?”

I paused. I noticed my arm was pulled back and without even thinking I must have prepared myself.

“Yeah, what gives?” The blue haired girl joined in. “Those are her comfort clothes. Even if you wanted to see her with her hood down, you shouldn’t invade her personal space,” her arms crossed and she too looked cross.

“N-No...you guys don’t understand...I’m not…” I stammered. I really was awful, wasn’t I?

“C’mon, Maize, let’s go,” the blue and the striped girl left for the door, with the redhead in glasses left to follow after her.

After Maize left and slammed our door shut, I turned to Hecate, who had dived into the bottom bunk of the bed and buried herself there. I heard her sniffles and sobs.

Never mind that that’s my bunk for now, there was more important matters.

“Hey...I’m sorry,” I croaked out. Funny enough, her frog was nowhere to be found.

Not knowing what else to do, I sat on the edge of the bed and looked to my side.

“I know, that really wasn’t called for on my part. I jumped to conclusions, and to be honest, I’ve not been in a good headspace for a while. I shouldn’t have dragged you into that,” I sucked in my pride and admitted.

Hecate poked her head out from the covers and looked up at me.

“I’m sorry...too...for calling her stupid,” she muttered, her voice a weepy high.

“It’s okay,” I didn’t really find it okay, but I didn’t think she meant it out of malice, and it was just her retaliating against my actions.

“She must have meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “more than I thought she did. I miss her. A lot.”

“Did she die? Because if she did, you should have asked me to contact her instead of a cat. I have a much easier time talking to people than cats.”

I shook my head.

“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. But I’d rather not think so.”

“What happened, then?”

“Well...it’s kind of funny,” I started laughing and noticed I had shed a couple of tears as well. I wiped my face before continuing, “I used to share this dorm with her, and before she left, she had been acting kinda strange.”

“Strange how?”

“I had spent the spring living with my boyfriend,” I explained, “and when I got back to university, it was like she made a radical change. She had a bunch of lesbian romance comics, and she talked about Sailor Moon a lot, and she’d get obsessed with a ‘Remora’. She was always obsessed with fish, but the fact that it was that one in particular was strange.”

“Why was that?”

“Because it was, like, all she talked about. Hell, it reminded me of a conversation we had once when she was reading an encyclopedia of fish and started laughing at one entry, which happened to be about the remora fish. She’d go ‘look at that thing! It’s ridiculous! It looks someone stepped on it and the bottom of the shoe left an imprint! Definitely wouldn’t be in my top 10 of favorite fish.’ Just for fun, I indulged her and asked what her favorites were, and she’d go, ‘Hmm...swordfish, definitely, then sharks. Probably angler fish, too. Piranhas have to be pretty high up there, too.’ So when she started talking about them all the time...yeah, it seemed off to me.”

“So that’s why you asked if I was into marine biology?” Hecate asked, and yeah, she figured it out.

“Yeah. Then when I saw you take that book…”

“I gave Grape some cash and asked her to buy it for me because I thought you were into that, so I wanted to know what made it interesting,” she explained.

Oh. To think someone would think of me.

“No, I’m studying agriculture. But thanks for the thought.”

“So she left?” Hecate continued where we left off.

“Yeah, and I didn’t hear anything from her for a few months, and her mom was really worried too. I admit, I jumped to worst case scenario and assumed she had been kidnapped. When her mom and I received a text from her saying that she got a job studying fish in the arctic, her mom was relieved, but I still had my doubts. So I texted her and told her that if she was in danger, I’d come get her. I was surprised when she answered, and it was definitely in her style, too. She denied such claims of kidnapping, but I couldn’t help myself, I was worried. She then said, ‘at least I didn’t leave my education to go live with some guy’, and I was pretty pissed at that remark...then, nothing.”

“So you had a fight? That’s it? Then she’s probably still alive, she probably just doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Yeah...I guess that’s a possibility…” Not one I wanted to entertain, but sure, “to be fair, I didn’t try to follow up and check in on her, and I don’t really know if she ever blocked me or not because I never tried to contact her after that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I was hoping she’d say something first and then when she never did, I just forgot about it?”

“Well, in any case, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I think talking about it will help me move on easier. It’s hard because I used to have more friends, and now there’s no one. Sure, there’s my boyfr...actually, never mind, point is, I’d like to have a friend again.”

“Well...I can be your friend?” She perked up.

“Thanks. I’d like that,” I smiled.

So while it may have started as a bad evening, my night ended up being okay in the end. Since she already looked exhausted, I let Hecate sleep where she was at, and I climbed up to the top bunk. Somewhere in the room, her frog familiar croaked. Despite that, I imagined myself getting a restful sleep, and was hopeful that I could soon begin to concentrate more on my studies.

Things didn’t quite work out like that, though. Come graduation time and I was still short a few credits. All those months of trying to study, trying to focus, and most of my classes consisted of Cs and Ds.

No, it was pretty frustrating, actually. Like I sacrificed a good home, away from that shitty university, so I could focus and even then it was hard. But I persisted, I persisted and worked my butt off, and in spite of all that, I still couldn’t graduate on time. It was enough for me to throw in the towel, quit right then and there. I don’t really know why I didn’t.

So yes: come graduation day and there I was, not graduating. Nor would Hecate, but she was still fresh to the university life, so it made sense for her. Just hearing all those happy people cheering in the background pissed me off and I walked away from the campus and almost left the grounds, but chose instead to sit at a bench near the front of the campus. There, I stewed in my frustration.

To think I would get this far and still fall short. What’s even the point? How do I know that this is even what I still want to do? Such thoughts ran through my head and I did nothing to prevent them from running. Hell, they weren’t wrong, anyway, why should I stop when it’s the truth?

Behind me was a tall oak tree. Not very notable, I know. There was a bit of rustling in one of the limbs above me. Again, not at all notable.

“Those squirrels are probably fucking again,” I grumbled. Let’s ignore the fact that I said that out loud, yeah?

“No way. Could it be…?” I heard above me, a sort of incredulous, but quiet squeaky and high pitched voice. That was when I thought the same words.

No way. Could it be…?

I got up from the bench and took a few steps back, then looked up into the tree. While I couldn’t make out much, I could see, and quite distinct, too, someone laying on their back against the tree’s limb.

“Well, well,” they began, “hey Proserpina.”

“Demetria?” I asked, and gulped, afraid of being wrong.

She dragged her back along the limb, then sat up against the base of the tree. Indeed, it was her, and her hair wasn’t green like it had been the last time I saw her, but blonde again.

It really was her. My Demetria.

“Are you really here? I mean, is it really you? Are you alive?” Please don’t tell me I’m imagining this whole thing.

“Damn, don’t give me an existential crisis,” she replied, then turned her head and smiled. With one hand, she waved, but with the other, she tossed what looked to be a knife up into the air and caught it. Even though it was no doubt her, a part of me questioned who this ‘Demetria’ was, “but yeah. It’s me. Never thought I’d see you again, either.”

“But...why? Why are you here?” I demanded this time.

She continued tossing and catching the knife. In both hands were a pair of fingerless gloves. Her outfit was much different than the type of garb she wore when used to know her: her shirt was a black long sleeve, and it looked rather thin and form fitting. As if to match, she also had a black pair of short shorts, and they seemed to be nylon or spandex. In any case, it showed off her muscular legs, something which I never thought I’d see, considering she always looked kinda scrawny.

“I decided to finish what I started, so I took online classes. I just stopped by because to get my degree and didn’t expect to run into you. I thought you would have graduated by now.”

That really got to me, though I tried not to let it show.

“I took a bit of a break,” I told her. It wasn’t really a lie, “but yeah, I finished up too. I just took classes in person because online classes weren’t really working for me.”

What a fool I was for letting that slip. But to my credit, she didn’t notice.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I really had to force myself to finish, and the worst part is, I stopped being interested in marine biology ages ago.”

How? How were you able to do it? How could you just force yourself, for something you weren’t interested in, no less, and you still came out on top? How? How does that work?

“I guess I get what she meant now,” it seemed like she was talking to herself rather than telling me anything, “having something be important without really caring about it.”

I really can’t say I understand.

“What happened with you, anyway?” That must have been the most pressing question. Hell, it should have been the FIRST question I asked.

“Aah,” she let out a sigh, “yeah, I guess I should come clean with that, huh? It sucks, but you deserve the truth, don’t you?”

“Well...I don’t know about deserve! But I’d like to know!” I cupped my hands and yelled to her.

“Yeah. Well, I’m sure you could guess, but: I lied to you.”

My heart skipped a beat, but pride took over.

“I knew it! You WERE kid –” She stopped me before I could finish.

“No. Maybe it would have been better if I was, because at least then it would have been far more understandable why I left. But no, the truth is, I developed a crush on a girl one day while you were away. So there, you were right: I’m gay. But I acted all wrong and my head was a mess. I was obsessed and you could have called me a stalker, if you wanted, because even though I had no idea where to find her, I wanted nothing more than to see her again and be with her.”

All that over a crush? Somehow I think the ‘got a job in the arctic’ angle was more believable...now that I think about it, she probably said that because of how more believable it was.

“Anyway,” she went on, “I saw her again one day, and decided to follow, you know, like a creep, and before I knew it, I was in the arctic. In order to stay there, I took a job at a local diner and lived there. Yes, not as dignified as a researcher.”

“Wait, so you weren’t lying about working in the arctic?” I stood, incredulous about what she told me.

“Yeah? Why’s that the thing you’re hung up about? What about the part where I stalked a poor woman? Isn’t that terrible?”

“Now that you mention it...that does seem out of character for you…” I gave it a good thought. Well, even the way I saw her now seemed out of character for her. It was hard to believe she’d change at all.

“Yeah, it surprised me too. It still does. I don’t really think I can justify that, to be honest.”

“So what happened then?”

“Well, I worked as a waitress to a near-empty diner. I got to know the diner owner and his wife, and this kid who lived there even started to grow on me a bit, despite not getting along with her at first.”

“What about the crush? What drew you to her?”

“I was getting to that. She seemed strong, confident, like she had things figured out and knew what she was doing. And she was blunt, like she just said whatever seemed to be on her mind. I admired her, or who I thought she was, but then, I think I admired those things because I wanted to be like that. Once I came to such a realization, I figured those silly feelings would fade and I’d move on and that thought scared me because I had already come so far, and it would have felt like a waste just to stop then. It was just like with marine biology. That shit was my life, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore, and the thing was, it was like all I knew: I never allowed myself the chance to live.”

“That’s not how you seemed to me,” I was almost choked up to say, “yeah, you were dedicated to your studies, but to me it just seemed like you knew what you wanted. I kind of admired that.”

She laughed.

“Ha. I didn’t know what I wanted, it was just what I thought I wanted because I studied it for so long. I’m still not sure if I’m on the right track, or if I’ll ever be.”

“So did your feelings fade as you feared?” Part of me hoped so, as hurtful as it may have been.

“Sorta. The crush, yeah. Even before it did, I tried to do my best to ease up. I mean, I may not have known how to act, but I knew I should have done better, so I tried to make an effort. But you know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“As those feelings faded, as I seemed to have gotten better, well, her and I got closer. Or it seemed like we did. Turns out I was still just a little bit misguided. The last thing she told me was that she could never bring herself to care about me, and that’s when I realized how stupid I had been. I mean, I worried my mom, I worried you, I threw my life away, and for what? Because I wanted someone to care about me?”

Another hurtful thing she probably didn’t think she said.

“I cared about you,” I rushed to my own defense.

“Yeah, and so did my mom. Well, I guess it was bad, because I didn’t really think either of you did. I thought I had to lie so as not to disappoint my mom, and on the inside, I felt like a disappointment to both her and myself. With you, well, I guess I just never noticed, because I never really thought I mattered that much to you.”

“That’s not true,” I shook my head, “maybe I should have been more clear. To be honest, I thought you had a crush on me because of how attached you were. That’s why I suspected you were gay.”

“No, I never had a crush on you,” she stated, “I was so attached because I never really had a friend before you and I didn’t want to lose you. When you got with that Hades guy and started to spend so much time with him, I figured I was starting to lose you, and the worst part is, you seemed so happy to be in a relationship. Maybe part of that’s why I wanted to be in one myself, so I could see what all the fuss was about. I’m not sure.”

“Aw, Demetria. Romance was my thing, sure, but that doesn’t mean it had to be yours.”

“Eh. I guess. I’m not saying that’s what it was, but it could be what it was, y’know? Say, what about you? To be honest, I never liked that Hades guy, but are you still with him?” She probed. I wasn’t expecting her to ask anything about me.

I can’t tell her the truth. She expects me to be doing well. I mean, technically I am still with him, so would it even be a lie to say that I am?

“You know you can be a real asshole sometimes, right?” I deflected.

“Yeah, but I make it look cool,” she stopped tossing her knife to give me finger guns.

“No. You’re just a dork,” I denied, “but yes. We’re still together. In fact, I give him the strap.”

“The strap? What is that? Like, an accessory?”

“Uh...yeah, kinda,” I just about blushed. I really didn’t mean to say something like that.

“Would you like another one? I’ve got some money, I could probably get you one for your birthday. Hold on,” she pulled out her phone and I saw her type and mouth out the words, “give...her...the...strap.”

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?!” I shouted, but it was too late. She must have already seen something, as she fumbled and tossed her phone in shock, then she fell down from the tree, along with her knife.

“Demetria!” I cried out, but she raised a thumb up in the air, and with her other hand, she caught the falling knife.

“I’m okay…” She groaned, then added, “I see I still have more to learn.”

She stood up and brushed herself off.

“Well, good for you. I may not like the guy, but...I don’t really know him, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you,” she concluded.

“Thanks,” I replied, though I felt a tinge of melancholy.

She shrugged it off.

“So yeah. That’s me: I’m gay and something of a disaster. I’m also single so I guess you can say  I’m ‘on the market’ and I can always find someone else, and if the opportunity arises, I’ll know to act better.”

Her smile persisted, but I noticed tears forming her eyes.

“But also, I don’t want anyone else. Try as I might to deny it, but I still have feelings for her, and I still think of her, but the thing is, I don’t even think I’d want to see her again. She’s fine, and maybe I’m fine, but I just don’t want to devote my time to someone who won’t care about me. It hurts too much for me to do that,” she shook her head and the tears came harder and she wiped her face.

“Sorry, it’s not so dignified of me...but I’ve never been one to do things with dignity,” she laughed, though was choked up with tears. “But you know what’s the worst part? I also care about that family in the arctic. I want to see them again, I want to tell them how much I’ve grown, if I’ve even grown at all. So I’ve resolved to do just that: I’m going to go back there, for them, and for myself, and I may not look the same way that they remember me, but I hope they still accept me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I wanted to give her a hug, but I wasn’t even sure if she’d want that, “I hope things work out. Just know that now that I’ve seen you once, I’m going to want to see you again.”

She nodded.

“It may be a while before I can do that, but I’d like that as well. Is it fair to assume that we’re friends?”

That time, I started to cry and I reached out to hug her.

“Of course!” I wailed. She reached out and wrapped her arms around me and it was so tight that I was worried she’d squeeze the lights out of me.

“Jeez, when did you get so strong?” I wheezed.

“I’m not as strong as I look, trust me,” she replied.

“It doesn’t seem that way,” I rebutted. “It’s like you’ve changed so much, in so many ways.”

“Maybe you’re right, but it’s just like you said, I’m still a dork,” she chuckled, then let go, “anyway, I think I should take off. Got big plans and all. I hope we can talk again, though!” She began to run off and I called after her.

“Stay safe out there!”

“No promises, but I’ll do my best!” She called back. Before long, she had disappeared out of sight.

After she left, despite what an emotional wreck I was, at the same time I felt just a little more hopeful about the future. That no matter how difficult, I may figure something out as well. Or at least, I could hope. In any case, I knew I had a story to tell Hecate once I got back up to my dorm.

[sstrongstyle]

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Adam Cole x OC, mentions of Seth Rollins x OC 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After nearly a decade of being the golden girl of WWE, Adaline Marin wants out. Their ring was no longer home, haunted by her first love and upon reaching her thirties, the face behind "Aspen Glory" wonders if the passion she once had was still ablaze. Instead, she gets sent down to NXT to join the Undisputed Era. The next three hundred and sixty-five days, all captured by cameras for the history books, become a year of revival, reinvention, and realization with her legacy at stake and a new flame from the past emerging. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: All characters are referred to by their real life names (for the most part) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I love feedback! Please send some my way! <3 Very background heavy chapter, no real fun, but more to come. If you’re interested in being added to a tag list, let me know!

CHAPTER THREE.

June 8th, 2019

Adaline couldn't believe that she didn't just agree to this, but agreed for it to be done for an entire year. It wasn't like she cared about being in management's good graces and volunteered to do it, but she somehow got hoodwinked into agreeing to a 365 special on herself. She was the last person in the world to enjoy having cameras on her when she was out of the ring and no longer Aspen Glory. Doing interviews out of character for Adaline felt like pulling teeth. She avoided Total Divas at all costs. Even appearing on stuff like Ride Along and UpUpDownDown was difficult for her.

"Just call me the modern day Undertaker," Adaline rolled her eyes, but she smiled a bit, as she sat down for the camera.

She liked her privacy as much as any other wrestler that had cameras constantly on them, but especially since fans liked to pay extra attention to her life for whatever reason. Adaline attributed it to her once long term relationship with Colby, highly publicized at several points because of whatever dirt sheet rumours and private leaks that were thrown their way. She was quiet at all times, her Wikipedia page only covering her wrestling career, as she had been as vague about her childhood as possible in the past.

Raising an eyebrow at the producer, Craig, a few feet away, Adaline wasn't sure where to begin. "I can just talk about anything?"

Anything but the few things on the "no mention" list. Most were contributed by WWE, but a lot of other things were provided by Adaline. This included her past relationship with Colby outside of kayfabe and especially anything to do with Nikki Bella.

"Start with talking about your career so far. You can name drop companies and non-contracted performers, but only because we'll be editing whatever we don't want aired, anyway."

"Right," she shifted slightly, unsurprised. "Well, I'm turning thirty-two this fall, so this will be into my sixteenth year of doing this thing."

She wasn't exactly sure why the Network executives wanted to give her a 365 special. As far as she knew, most of the episodes were focused on wrestlers overcoming serious injuries or taking the next great step in their careers. Was this what NXT was supposed to be for her?

Craig's expression remained blank, as he pushed his semi rimless glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "You started at sixteen years old?" His eyes never left the clipboard in front of him, where she assumed was a list of prompts to ask.

"Yeah, I dropped out of high school in the tenth grade and I worked retail and other random part time jobs for two years while training and working local shows in Toronto. Bingo halls, high school gyms, random parking lots, you know," Adaline explained further, still trying to loosen up her tense shoulders. "When I turned eighteen, I dropped everything and moved to the United States because I knew I was limited, wrestling where I was wrestling. I was an illegal alien with no plan and just a few hundred dollars—the dumb indie wrestler dream."

It'd been so long since she looked back at that time in her life. Once embarrassed by her roots, Adaline felt a warm, fuzzy feeling at the pit of her stomach and couldn't ignore the swelling of pride in her heart. She'd come far.

The look on Craig's face induced Adaline to continue, so she took a deep breath. "My early work happened in Pennsylvania, where I fought my way into gyms and I mean fought. It was really hard at that time for a woman to be taken seriously. It was guys like Drew Gulak and Jon—" Although Craig said that she was allowed to name drop non-contracted performers, she was positive that uttering the former Dean Ambrose's name wasn't worth it. "—um, who helped me learn the ropes and culture in that area. Chikara's Wrestling Factory really helped me out and I did stuff for them and other places like CZW. Drew was the head trainer at the CZW at the time and was one of the first mentor figures I had."

If Adaline had to put her money on it, she would have said that Craig was bored out of his damn mind, but then again, he had the same expression on his face ever since he walked into the room. "Did you just stay in the northeast for that portion of your career?"

"I ventured a bit more west as time went by. Definitely lingered around Illinois for a while, since it's where the top independent women's promotions were at the time. Funnily enough, I ended up living in Chicago for about ten years after that." To be with her boyfriend, but she didn't mention that. "I did some time on the west coast, not as much as I wish I did, but I definitely had some fun doing stuff in California and for a split second, Mexico. Three years into working in the States and I somehow, by a miracle, land myself in the locker room of Florida Championship Wrestling."

To this day, Adaline wasn't exactly sure how she got in. The tape that she sent the developmental recruits was god-awful and her tryout promo was more than cringy. However, looking at other people in her recruitment class, it was clear that officials and scouts looked at potential over everything—how well could they be molded into the WWE standard, the ceiling of their entertainment value. She wasn't sure if she should feel flattered that they saw that in her or not or if they simply saw that she could be easily manipulated.

"It was definitely a time down there. Difficult, yes, but I learned so much." Adaline could recall nights crying into her pillow out of frustration for where her training was going and how she was treated by the other talent. Girls often claimed how hard they were judged for being models and dancers before coming to FCW, but it was just as hard being an "arrogant indie schmuck." There weren't many women from back then who could relate to the garbage that she went through.

Craig asked, "Do you think performers then had a harder time in FCW than the recruits down in the PC and NXT today?"

She paused, taking the question in. "Not a harder time, per say, but the process is much smoother now, while being more of a burden. We have the state of the art Performance Center now, compared to that warehouse we used to train in. NXT gets so much more exposure now that it's harder to reinvent yourself at your own pace." Adaline said. "In a way, because NXT is now its own brand, I would say that talent from the FCW era were much more catty in the sense of starting drama and wanting to move up to get on the road with the main roster talent. The divas division back then was a very different culture to the women's locker room here at Full Sail, which is now very welcoming. Everyone wants to help each other, not drag them down."

There was nothing Adaline wanted to do more than expose certain names, but she held herself back. The catty environment, the hazing, the drama and sabotage, was too much for her. She was just glad that she move on from there quickly, as her memories in developmental hurt her as much as they did help her.

"And after FCW?"

Adaline grinned. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows what happened after that."

For the first few years, she was afraid that the only reason she got lumped in with The Shield was because she was Colby's long term girlfriend and that they assumed he would be most comfortable with her as their valet. After all, Adaline wasn't exactly progressing as a character in FCW. She was scared of that, and only being considered as eye candy and a side item for the boys. It took years of understanding from other people and seeing the product in the eye of the executives that they truly must have seen potential in her.

And if all of the above were true anyway, then Adaline made damn sure to prove herself to be otherwise in the past few years.

"My time with The Shield was everything I could ask for and more. I'm glad I spent that portion of my career with those guys, I don't think I could have found my way around without them. We were all definitely kind of lost, but we had each other, and we were really family." She wanted to say are family, but things were different these days.

Adaline talked to Joe the most, at least up until her move to the yellow and black brand. He texted and checked up on her often while she was off TV. Jon came here and there, but things were different. She only kept up with him through Renee, since the man clearly had yet to discover how to reply to a text.

Then, there was Colby.

Things were good the first couple months after the big finale. As fine as they could be, really. They were on different brands leading up to Wrestlemania, which contributed tremendously to the smooth sailing. After the Royal Rumble, though, things got. . . weird and of course, she hadn't known it yet, but it was around the time he started seeing Becky.

"Hey, Becks, some of the girls are going back to my hotel room after the show," Adaline had tapped Becky on the shoulder after catching her outside of the trainer's room during the later hours of Elimination Chamber. "You gonna come and kick my ass in Mario Kart?"

For whatever reason, Becky's expression dropped. "Oh, uh, actually, I'm just gonna head back to mine. Call it in early, y'know?" Tripping over her words, the fluster in her voice was a tad suspicious to Adaline, but she brushed it off.

She'd proceeded with her plans with Pamela and Leah, playing video games into the early morning. Adaline didn't even think of Becky and her obvious excuse until Leah mentioned that she ran into Becky on her way back to her own room.

"It was written all over her face! Someone definitely got lucky that night," Leah mused at the makeup table, two days later at Smackdown. "Who do you think the guy is? She's definitely not one for random hookups."

Adaline knew that she wasn't owed an explanation to Colby's new love life, but she was a little disappointed that she figured it out on her own. The little things, the rumours she heard backstage, all pieced together for her to realize what was going on between the two of them. Maybe Adaline wouldn't have felt so ruffled about it if it wasn't made to be so weird and secretive. She didn't tell anyone what she found out, keeping it to herself until they announced it themselves.

"Stop making excuses for him, I know why he's late." She didn't even look up from her phone, as she waited in the passenger's seat of the group's rental car. "He's with her, right?"

This was at the tail end of The Shield's farewell era in February earlier that year. Though, Adaline was not heavily involved in the storyline as some expected her to be—the escalation to her own Wrestlemania feud had been going on and she had duties to fulfill on the Smackdown brand. She wasn't there for the buildup throughout the month on Raw, but she was able to join the reunion at Fastlane. It was the group's last match together and the group begged personnel to let her be apart of at least the final moments.

Joe and Jon simply exchanged looks with each other in response. They clearly knew about the couple and probably found out from Colby himself. While nobody said anything to Adaline about it, deep down, they all knew that nobody needed to. She knew Colby more than possibly any other person in the world and the two weren't surprised that she figured it all out.

"Right." Jon was the one who chose to break the awkward silence. "Well, he can meet us there. Let's get this show on the road, we got some beautiful people waiting to see my beautiful face at that bar." It felt a little wrong to not wait for Colby on their way to the roster's "Goodbye Shield" party at a local watering hole, but even Joe was sick of waiting and started the engine.

"We had the time of our lives in that initial run. There's just too memories that I'll cherish forever, you know. But, my memory of all time is surprising the fans at Fastlane, when I showed up to accompany the boys to the ring one last time and having that farewell embrace as the show went off air." Adaline quickly blinked back the tears, as sensitive as ever, but she didn't like showing that side of her to the camera. "I swear to god, time seemed to just completely stop for those few minutes. It was out of this world, nothing like it."

The most magical part of wrestling was the crowd, there's no denying that. On the eve of Fastlane, Adaline felt mountains of love and excitement from the fans, knowing that they were witnessing the end of an era. All four of them knew it was the end of an era, in many ways more than one. Adaline and Colby, who were always known as a collective, rather than individually, were now apart and were now moving on from each other. Mox chose to chase his dreams elsewhere, away from the three that became his family. Joe's legacy in the industry was building and building, year by year. They were no longer the people they were in 2012, having finally gotten a taste of wealth and glory after early years of struggle when the four used to share a single hotel room to save costs.

She'll always be grateful for her run with The Shield. At the beginning, she was just happy to be in a main roster storyline. She was just happy to be able to maximize her time with Colby. Beyond that, Jon and Joe became her family. Bickering over who's turn it was to drive after long house shows, getting to know Joe's kids, playing video games in the locker rooms and every hotel room, and nobody leaving the trainer's room until everybody was clear. No one got left behind.

Back then, it was like that. Now? Adaline can't help but feel like she's come to that point, without any of the three by her side for the first time in a decade.

Craig sighed a little too loudly, rolling up his sleeve and glancing at the shiny watch on his wrist. "We're running out of time. We'll touch on your time with The Authority and everything since then for our next interview day, maybe also dig a little deeper into your new alliance with Undisputed Era." Adaline tried not to breathe a sigh of relief, already worn out from the questions. "Last thing. What are your expectations going into NXT, considering all that you've gone through in sixteen years?"

A question that she didn't know the answer to.

"It's good catching up with you. You have your locker number?" Coach Bloom stood up from his chair from across the desk, extending his hand for Adaline to shake.

She nodded, taking his hand. "Yes, sir. I'll be on my way, then."

Being called into the head trainer's office was similar to the feeling of being called into the principal's office and she had more fear in her body than someone who had just arrived should have had. That was the feeling that Bloom gave off to all NXT residents, but she knew that there was always care behind his tough demeanour. He simply wanted to welcome her properly to the PC on her first official day.

Meanwhile, Serena had been sitting to the side of the two of them and she couldn't confine the grin stretching across her face. When they had shook hands, she instead pulled her old friend into a tight embrace.

"I'm so happy you're here," she whispered into her ear, not caring that Bloom was rolling his eyes at them, mumbling about something for the two women to take it outside of his office.

They had only reunited so few times since Serena signed on as a coach for the Centre a year ago and it only made the moment feel so much sweeter. At the very beginning of Adaline's career, Serena had served as such a helpful mentor figure, even going into their short lived time in the FCW women's locker room together. To have their paths intersect once again, at yet another pivotal part in Adaline's life, seemed poetic in a sense.

Adaline walked out of the office, in tow with Serena. "I guess I'll be responding to your drills again, huh?"

"And you better do it damn well," she raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "I'm still in shock that you're here. They really didn't want you going anywhere else, huh?"

Shrugging in response, the Canadian sighed. "I'm in shock, too—considering that NXT wasn't apart of the plan." Adaline was getting tired complaining about how the wool was pulled over her eyes during her contract negotiations, but it was starting to fully settle in. Meeting the guys in Hunter's office softened the blow. It was time to shut up and accept the facts.

"People everywhere watched what you did all over the world during those two years that you were gone. You don't need this company to be a star, they need you," Serena said. "Have you maybe considered that you're here because you did all you could do on RAW and Smackdown?"

Those words echoed in Adaline's head, as she trudged into the women's locker room.

It had almost ten years since she started this journey in this company and it seemed like almost everybody that started with her had already grown tired of it. Her first road wives, April and Celeste, were long gone. Danielle decided that she was worn out and was gone. Trinity had recently taken time off and wasn't sure when she was coming back to the ring. Saraya, someone who Adaline thought would be wrestling in her sixties, was retired. Even the goddamn Bellas weren't around anymore. Ninety percent of the division from a decade ago was gone. Wasn't she exhausted, too?

She envied women like Becky and Pamela, who were still hungry for more. There were others who had just made the main roster and some down with her in NXT now, who suffered through the struggles of the indies and were still ready to claw up to the top. Adaline wondered where that drive was for her.

Every locker was labelled by ring name, some with more long-standing plates—mainstays like Io Shirai and Bianca Belair. Meanwhile, others simply had a laminated piece of paper slapped on top of the metal. These were the recruits who had yet to prove themselves, the names that Adaline couldn't recognize.

A shiny, new plate shone on the locker that sat at the corner of the room. Aspen Glory, it read, in all of its permanent lustre.

She slammed her gym bag onto the bench, the impact echoing throughout the empty room. The process felt foreign, making a locker home when Adaline spent so many years travelling to probably hundreds of different arenas and treating each space and moment as temporary. She wasn't sure where to begin, as she unlocked the door and was met with a clean, baby blue interior.

There were some basic things that she brought, like extra socks, a water bottle, and shower shoes. Adaline quickly filled the locker up with these contents and it still appeared so barren to her. What the hell else was she supposed to put in it? She shrugged, not thinking too much about it. Then, she heard the door creak open.

Somewhat hidden away from the front of the locker room, Adaline could hear a distinct voice that seemed to be talking to someone over the phone and a smile formed, hoping it was who she thought it was.

"Yeah, that sounds good for dinner. I just got into the PC, I think Cheree's already waiting for me. You know how she is, she's always early. Alright, bye, Johnny, I love you. See you."

A flash of blonde hair only confirmed Adaline's suspicions. It was Candice LeRae, who hummed the melody of a 90s pop song and chewed bubblegum, as she strolled over without noticing the other female in the room. She easily unlocked her name plated locker, which was across from Adaline's, and nearly everything spilled out from it being too full.

She groaned. "Oh, crap," Candice said, trying to chase a bottle of dry shampoo that had begun rolling across the floor, only to be met with Adaline's bemused expression.

"Hi."

"Hey," Candice replied with a grin, a little perplexed.

Almost instantaneously, they pulled each other into a hug. Knowing that she would be diving head first into the unknown, Adaline was aware that she couldn't navigate all on her own. The two Breezango idiots were too busy figuring their own things out and she couldn't voice her anxiety to her new stable mates, wanting to give off a confident face. There were only so many people that Adaline could turn to outside of them, so she gave Candice a heads up that she was now reporting to the Performance Centre.

Adaline bent down and reached out for the lavender can for her shorter friend, passing it to her. "Your shit's a mess, girl."

"Yours will be, too. Give it a month," she rolled her eyes and peeked over her shoulder at Adaline's belongings on the bench. "You're moving in today?! I honestly did not expect to see you here so soon."

"I told you that I landed a few days ago, didn't I? I've been in meetings all weekend," Adaline replied with a groan. She had only been in Orlando for such a short amount of time and the amount of work and settling she had to do was taxing. The NXT tapings hadn't even begun, yet.

Candice said, "Yeah, it doesn't really slow down for another week or so. You'll love it here, I promise." As everyone else had promised Adaline, who clearly wasn't convinced.

The blonde turned around and put the can back into its place—if it even had one, in that mess of a locker—and began rummaging through her personal possessions. Candice let a out a soft a-ha! when she found what she was looking for at the back of the space, a Minnie Mouse hairbrush. Adaline chuckled softly at the sight and turned around, closing her own locker.

"Are you off to go workout?"

"Yeah, Cheree's wanted to get some cardio in. Any more meetings today?" Candice replied.

Adaline shook her head. "No, just moving in." She gestured to her gym bag and locker.

"Well, while you're here, the taping schedule is posted up by the west wing double doors, you know, the ones to the main gym. We can check it out together. Actually, would your name even be on there?" Candice thought to herself, considering that she was one of the few people who were made aware of Adaline's presence. The taping schedule wasn't usually subject to the change unless there was an injury, but producers were known edited the cards last minute to accommodate random returns and debuts before, at least once the talent found out.

The woman in question just shrugged in response. "Beats me. It doesn't hurt to look, right?"

"Then, we can check out the travel schedule. Ooh, I hope you're coming with us to the midwest loop at the end of the month!" Candice became giddy. "We'll hit the road together, no men! I wish we got to do that more often when you were in Cali."

Adaline didn't get the opportunity to do so often, but she loved wrestling in The Golden State and especially in PWG. When she worked with them in the past, she always travelled and hung out with Candice.

"I don't think so, but probably the next one?" she shrugged.

The two began chatting more for the next few minutes, mostly about Adaline settling in and her new house. Always the lazy type, she'd been procrastinating and the boxes in her home were left untouched, despite her promising herself that she would get it all out. The small talk about something other than wrestling for once settled the restlessness in Adaline, a small distract of sorts.

It wasn't like she disliked talking about wrestling, rather it was all that seemed to be on her mind for the past while since Wrestlemania. Somehow, it was the first time Adaline really took notice of that, considering she lived, breathed, and ate wrestling for the past sixteen years of her life. A part of her felt worrisome for the sudden awareness of it, wondering it had any relation to her other career concerns.

Unfortunately, the brief, sweet wrestling-free moment was cut short when the locker room door slammed open.

Everyone knew who Shayna Baszler was, or at least, every woman in the company did. After all, the current NXT Women's Champion was probably next in line to overtake your spot in the animal kingdom. Management wanted to push her to lead the division once she would inevitably leave NXT and become a box office draw for all of the big pay-per-views and tours and media.

Some said that Shayna was one of, if not, the most intimidating women on the NXT roster and bore a vicious gaze. Even upon entering the locker room that was nearly empty, her presence demanded attention. All eyes drew to her so naturally and so quickly as they tore away from her out of fear.

"Out of my way," was all she had to say to Adaline, not even flinching at the sight of the veteran and former women's champion.

Adaline zoned out for a moment, completely baffled by the attitude that she was just given. She couldn't help but scoff, trying to process the disrespect that was being shown to her.

She narrowed her eyes at Shayna. "The hell did you just say to me?"

In between them, Candice just sighed. It seemed like that she wanted to end what was going to be an ugly dispute early, but something held her back. Adaline hoped it wasn't out of intimidation by the former mixed martial artist.

Shayna stared back at the woman in front of her. "You think you can just waltz in here and act like you got this brand on lock? They get tired of you on the main roster and Japan couldn't offer you enough money, so you come down here to fuck around?"

Adaline wanted to find out how Shayna found out that she was going to be here, but that wasn't the main concern of hers. Her jaw nearly dropped to the ground, hearing Shayna's words. Clearly, she didn't like her or some rumours already began to float around backstage. Regardless, Adaline was already on the bad side of the de facto locker room leader.

With the fury running through her body, though, she didn't give a damn.

"I'm going to say this once, so you better listen up," Shayna began, "I think you're entitled. I think that you've ridden on the coattails of your ex-boyfriend for your entire career. So, I don't like you. Plain and simple."

"You think you know me?" Adaline's voice began to rise, but Shayna held up a hand and didn't let her finish.

She said, "Maybe for you, being here is like a little vacation before someone like Ashley Flair gets injured and creative will need another spoiled brat to bury their women's division with on Smackdown. For some of us, NXT is our entire lives. Don't mess that up for us."

With that, Shayna bumped Adaline's shoulder when she walked away to the other side of the room and behind a wall to another area of lockers. All she could hear after was the stomping of boots and the slamming of a metal door open. Meanwhile, she was in complete shock of the conversation that just happened, wondering if she just imagined it.

Looking at Candice's sheepish expression, though, it confirmed that Shayna Baszler did indeed strut right up to Adaline and cussed out one of the scariest warnings that the latter had ever heard in her life.

"Honestly, she gives that talk to every new girl," Candice said in a low voice, as she ushered Adaline out of the locker room.

"You can't be serious," Adaline shot back, still worked up over what happened. It took all the will in her body to not barge right back in and swing at Shayna's smug face.

The target was now on her back and she had yet to even step into the yellow brand's ring. If she was being honest, it was definitely a wake up call to where she was now and the expectations weighing down on her shoulders. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. She didn't even want to be here. Adaline wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was terrified for the first time in years.

[imagine-loki]

Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 5/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine Loki struggling to adjust to someone who is independent and insists on paying for themselves all the time, even if it is a struggle sometimes. They need to do everything on their own. They never ask for help and refuse help. Just imagine Loki really wanting to spoil this person. Imagine how creative he would get to make life easier on this person who has captivated him.

+

Imagine being a talented singer at your local club. Loki comes in one night with Thor and the others (he’d rather be anywhere else but who turns down free drinks?) and gets ensnared in the voice of the beautiful singer on stage. Suddenly, his interest (and arousal) are more than piqued.

+

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach? 

AUTHOR’S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin’s company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki’s plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Loki let Sirena drive her own car while she talked excitedly about how well she was doing at Whispering Waters. Apparently the manager was considering having her perform every friday night, waitress the other times, and was going to pay her a small amount and let her keep the tips.

“How cool is that though? I mean I would be able to get my name out there.”

Loki could not stop the smile pulling his lips. “You are very gifted.”

“Thanks. It’s not… I guess it isn’t so much of getting my name known, I just like to see when people hear music. Music is proven to change or elevate moods. Its why I am in the musical therapy major.”

“When do your mock classes start?”

“Next week. Frigga stated there are some people really interested in the little class.”

Loki watched as Sirena parked in front of a grocery store.

She gave Loki a big smile. “Object of this game is to get snacks to eat in the car. Now go. Gogogog!" 

Sirena hurried out of the car and Loki felt rushed to do it too.

She started laughing as the car locked and ran to the entrance.

Loki easily caught up to her then opened the door. At Sirena’s look he walked in and shut the door so she had to open it herself.

"What the hell?” She laughed as she tried to be the intimidating fireball she was.

Loki smirked, “Everyone keeps telling me to let you do stuff yourself.”

“Well yeah. But did you need to make sure the door shut?”

“It would have been considered helping.”

Sirena tapped Loki’s arm with a small smile then pulled him along towards the snack isle.

Sirena was picking granola bars and some chips. “So get anything you can easily eat in the car.”

“Where are we going to go?”

Sirena snickered. “Depends on when you have your next scheduled alarm.”

Loki grumbled, “touche.”

Loki picked out a few things but were mostly candy. After purchasing their own things they went to the car.

“With all those sweets you are going to get a cavity. Clint would yell at me all the time about what I would eat because he knows I want to loose weight and be more healthy. He watches out for me.” Sirena took a bite of her granola bar.

“He does seem a bit…” Loki hesitated for the right word.

“Intimidating? Yeah he got the whole older brother thing about him.”

Loki immediately asked, “Brother? So you two aren’t dating?”

Sirena forced a gag and muttered “ew” several times. “No we aren’t dating. We knew each other from high school. He looked out for me because I would always get myself in trouble with people. I was too nice and people took advantage of me. He would scare people away from me.”

“He was trying to scare me away then?”

Sirena shrugged her shoulders. “Clint is an ass but yeah. He is a great guy. He is just pushing your buttons to see if you are good for me to…talk to.”

Loki had to be cheeky. “Am i good company?”

Sirena teased. “I think so.”

Loki laughed at his own question. “Was this planned out?”

Sirena pouted, “Probably. Clint is good at seeing things from way outside the picture so he is good at placing things where they are supposed to be.”

Loki fiddled with a piece of candy. “Where does he want us?”

“Beside each other.”

“You are being vague.”

“Vague? Why is there more information you are searching for?” Sirena teased.

“Just wondering if there is more to this… How did you put it..? Beside each other, Like this, in this car discussing his master painting over snacks…”

“maybe this is part of his plans..” Sirena glances at Loki’s lips as she leans slightly.

Loki starts to lean in as well. 

The kiss was short, sweet, and it made Loki happy to see her smile once the short kiss was over.

Loki smirked with a tilt of his head, “so do I ask you out or do you want to ask me?”

Sirena grinned, “I initiated the kiss, so I asked.”

Loki shrugged. “Fair enough. So do I get to take you out for dinner?”

Sirena seemed hesitant. “We can do our Q and A right here.”

“Do you actually have insurance on your phone?” It was the first question Loki came up with.

Sirena laughed, “that question is what you open up with?”

Loki nodded with a smirk.

She sighed before answering. “Yes I do. They won’t send me a new one because I dropped the phone. Something stupid about it not being the device that stopped working and it was my fault.. But it still works and I am not worried about it.”

“Alright. But everytime you show me pictures on your phone I really want to get you a new one so I can see your pictures better.”

“You are not the first person to complain about my phone for that reason.”

“Why not get a new phone?”

“I am worried about losing my pictures.”

Loki beamed. “I could help with that. Its very easy to do that. I move files all the time for work.”

“Maybe. Enthusiastic helper.”

Loki thought for a second. “I could teach you how to save stuff and put it all on a micro SD card or back everything up to the cloud.”

Sirena looked confused. “That was all over my head. I have no idea how electronics work. I can text, call, and set alarms.”

Loki tried not to laugh but a few chuckles escaped.

“Oh come on dont laugh at me!”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh at her pout and the embarrassment inside her voice.

“I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Whatever. So there is an intersection coming up… left, right, or straight?”

Loki asked. “Really? Okay straight.”

And that was the game for the night until they needed to get back to campus.

Loki and Sirena spent more time together and Clint seemed to be warming up to Loki more. There were still threats of bodily harm if Loki “ever hurt her and I will make sure you suffer too." 

Loki genuinely promised Clint he would never hurt Sirena.

Loki found himself on a new schedule and Sirena didn’t mind much of his alarms because she saw how anxious he was without some daily structure. However she convinced him into a deal; he could pay for one meal a week, and on certain days she had control of what they would do with their free time. Loki had to admit he enjoyed new experiences -especially with Sirena because she is always pleasant to be around.

Sirena never let Loki pay for anything and if he did it was an ear full and she would go buy him something if he wouldn’t take the money.

He tried to get creative by leaving a little money where she would find it, but she gave it away.

Loki went so far as to order things online, have them shipped to her mailbox as an "accidental delivery.” Despite the company saying to keep it she would send it back or find someone else who would use it.

Then Sirena got assigned a paper to write and was stressed out about getting it done because it was on a book she just didn’t understand. She found school just as important as Loki did, so homework would carve into their time together. Loki offered his help and she actually accepted it. Loki’s skills at analytical reading were useful and Sirena would get Loki his favorite drink and snacks as thanks for each study session.

They would work on homework together; at first they were alone and then they had a study group with the rest of their friends. Loki invested in a personal laptop so he could program while others worked and it didn’t take long to make some friends in the computer programming department too. Friends such as, Tony and Bruce.

During a study group Sirena announced she would be in a few of the art classes soon.

Fandral teased, “I am sure Loki is going to love it.”

Sirena glared at Fandral. “It is very professional. There will be no suggestive atmosphere.”

A few days later, Loki was in his art class and felt a little nervous as Sirena came in. Sirena discussed with Loki alone about how the class would go and how if anyone steps out of line the teacher would handle it.

It still did nothing to comfort him once she was on the podium in the plain undergarments she once explained. Everyone was on best behavior in the class which made it easier that way, but Loki’s hands sweat so much he had to keep readjusting the drawing utensils. They were never intimate other than kisses,  hugs, and hand holding but now he saw the curves of her body and was memorizing them onto paper.

Not at all troubling.

[sockparade]

tips for surviving the pandemic: things i learned from my immigrant parents

It’s hard to believe that it’s only been a little over a week since the WHO announced that the coronavirus (COVID-19) was officially a pandemic. This has been a long, challenging week for a lot of people and it is nothing short of terrifying to read reports of what is happening in Asia and Europe as many predict that we’ll likely endure a similar fate here in the United States. In the midst of all of this chaos and uncertainty, I’ve been reminded of so many lessons that my Taiwanese immigrant parents taught me. I’m sharing them here so that others might also benefit. Thanks Ma. Thanks Daddy.

你昨天已經出去了.

“You already went out yesterday.“

1. Learn how to stay home. Our family is eight days into self-isolating at home and Tony asked me this morning if I had cabin fever. And strangely, the answer is no. I’m not. Not to downplay the difficulty of this moment but my experience with this “shelter-in-place” ordinance reminds of pretty much all my summers between kindergarten and 8th grade. Both of my parents worked full-time so summer was just three blissful months of nothing. No structure, no plans, no camps, no playdates, and no responsibilities. My parents never made me feel like I was missing a thing by staying home and I don’t remember ever feeling bored. There were always library books to read, stories to write, and thoughts to journal. Hours were spent playing school with my big sister (now a first grade teacher!), making up random games like who can avoid touching the carpet longest, learning Kim Zmeskal’s latest gymnastics floor routine, writing lyrics to Kenny G saxophone solos, and rehearsing for our variety show that we would perform to our tired parents at the end of the day. And that’s not even including the hours we spent watching The Price is Right, CHIPS, Knight Rider, and Airwolf (yep, no cable).   

As a teenager I carefully plotted all my hangouts with friends so that I didn’t have too many consecutive days when I was out of the house. Whenever I asked my parents if I could hang out with friends, they would always say, “But you already went out yesterday. What’s wrong with staying home? Why do you always have to go out?” It was as if having too much fun two days in a row was off limits. If there was a big party on Friday, I would purposely make sure I stayed home Wednesday and Thursday just to increase the chances of being able to go out on Friday. I know a lot of people talk about how awful their high school years were but I was one of those lucky kids who had a really great group of friends that made me feel seen, loved, and cared for. The downside was that I couldn’t get enough of it. I was always thinking about the next hangout, the next event, the next thing. It took me all the way until my late twenties to fully appreciate the fine art of staying home and to finish my unexpected transformation into the expert homebody that I am today. 

I’m reminded of that old quote by Blaise Pascal, “All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone." 

It’s great to be out and about, but it’s also really important to learn how to stay home.  

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晚上要吃什麼？清冰箱.

“What are we eating for dinner?” “Cleaning the fridge.”

2. Be creative with what you have. I love food. Not in a foodie sense, but I get a lot of pleasure out of eating. I’m not a food snob by any stretch of the imagination. I thoroughly enjoy a Stouffer’s frozen lasagna or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as much as I enjoy a fancy, inventive, Michelin-starred meal at Commis. What’s hard for me is when food is eaten as sustenance rather than with delight. But my parents taught me that you can always take pride in preparing a meal. No matter your ingredients.

My mom is an excellent cook. I know a lot of people think their mom is a good cook but my mom is legitimately skilled in the kitchen. There were some nights when I’d ask what was for dinner and my mom would just reply, “Cleaning the fridge.” 

Now for some, this might sound terrifying. But my mom could honestly make something out of nothing. I still crave my dad’s simple egg and garlic fried rice. My parents raised me to be able to make an tasty meal just from rummaging in the pantry and fridge for random leftover things. There were plenty of summers where lunches and snacks were an individual culinary adventure for each of us kids. I still remember the day I witnessed my baby sister add a Kraft single on top of her onion ramen noodles. She saw my confusion, shrugged and said, “You should try it, it’s good.” 

With all the hoarding folks have been doing during this pandemic, I’ve found myself feeling quite anxious. Trying to calculate if we have enough food. Estimating how many more meals we can eat at home before we need to make another grocery run. As someone who struggles with a scarcity mentality it has been hard not to panic. But then I keep reminding myself that I know how to make good food using just whatever’s available. 

You know, I was pretty disappointed with Mary H.K. Choi’s second novel, Permanent Record, given how much I enjoyed her debut novel, Emergency Contact. But I was absolutely thrilled with the shine she gave to what her protagonist calls “Hot Snacks”.

Here’s an excerpt from Permanent Record that is a beautiful ode to creative food mashups and immigrant kids everywhere: 

“I edit and post a Shin Ramyun Black video set to music. My favorite instant noodles with three flavor packets and so much garlic. It’s a classic Korean HotSnack, especially when you throw in cut-up hot dogs, frozen dumplings, extra kimchi - and this is where the artistry comes in- eggs, cheese, corn from a can, and a drizzle of sesame oil on top. And furikake if you’re feeling wealthy. The next night I put up a bacon, egg, and cheese not in a bagel but in a glazed honey bun. Laced with sriracha and pan fried on the outside. Then it’s chilaquiles with Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos and chorizo. Jamaican beef patty casserole disrespected with a smothering of Japanese curry and broiled. With Crystal Hot Sauce over the top and pickled banana peppers. I’m trolling with that one but the controversy is berserk. When I run out of old videos, I make saag paneer naanchos with Trader Joe’s frozen Indian food, and it’s a hit. Especially when I add yogurt and a thick layer of crushed-up Takis on top.”

______________________________________________

看連續劇.

“Watch soap operas.” 

3. Find a way to escape. I’m generally pro technology but I’ll admit I’m a little bummed at the way iPhones and iPads have made TV viewing such an individual activity. I like how Disney+ has gotten some families back to watching TV together again. Although I will say, we really coddle our kids these days. I grew up in a time when movie ratings only applied in the theaters and we watched movies with our families like Alien, The Fly, and Gremlins. We were scared out of our minds and sometimes could only watch through the cracks between our fingers covering our eyes because it was so scary. Okay, this also might be why I can’t watch horror movies as an adult. 

From a young age, my parents taught me that watching other people’s drama unfold on screen is one of the best way to escape your own drama. Some people say binge watching became a thing when the TV networks started releasing shows on DVD. Others give credit to Netflix releasing their original content a whole season at a time. But truth be told, I first learned how to binge watch from my parents. 

We would rent 30-40 VHS cassette tapes from that random spot in Bellaire Chinatown. Can you picture it? You needed multiple plastic bags to transport that many VHS tapes. 

Do you remember the one about the dying mother who needed to find homes for each of her 7 children? I don’t think it’s normal for a 10 year old to cry so much but you better believe it’s made me learn the true value of a soap opera escape hatch. 

Are you in a pandemic? Now’s the perfect time to pick up that YA novel, binge that reality show, start that kdrama, or rewatch all six seasons of The Sopranos again.

______________________________________________

下個禮拜會下雨.

“It’s going to rain next week.”

4. Be informed about what’s ahead. If you ask either of my parents about the weather at any given time they can reliably tell you the daily percent chance of precipitation and humidity for at least seven days out. They’ve always been this way. They would inform me of the weather at various points throughout the week. They planned their yard work and car washes around the weather forecast. There’s something about the way the weather forecast is available to everyone. And it feels like it’s just a matter of making the small extra effort to access it and gain a slight advantage. I feel like so much of the immigrant mentality is to be diligent in making the right choices to not screw yourself over and seizing opportunities whenever you can. And it wasn’t just weather but this is such an obvious example of it. 

I remember my dad saying to me once, "Can you imagine if someone decided to read every book in their local library? If they just went shelf by shelf and systematically read all the books? You could do it, you know. It’s free, it doesn’t cost any money to check out a book from the library. But no one really does it.” 

I think immigrant parents get a bad reputation for forwarding chain letters and health/science hoaxes they get on email, WeChat and Line. And in a pandemic, yes, they are definitely susceptible to misinformation, rumors and flat out untruths. But the thought behind it seems right. 

The mistrust of government leadership is actually quite relevant right now in this pandemic. Many immigrants left countries with governments that were overtly corrupt, oppressive, and used propaganda to influence its citizens. And while many Americans still take pride in living in a country that verbally champions freedom and democracy, the truth is that our government has already failed us and lied to us in many ways. During this pandemic, we cannot wait on leaders to tell us what to do. We must be diligent in reading for ourselves, seeking experts, using our critical thinking skills, and making preparations accordingly.

______________________________________________

會不會冷?

“Are you cold?” 

5. Check in with yourself. Check in with others. I have so many memories of my parents walking through the living room and asking me and my sisters if we were cold. It felt like they couldn’t walk past the thermostat without asking us if they needed to raise it or lower it. As if they couldn’t hear us sneeze and wonder if they needed to turn off the ceiling fan. They couldn’t see us sitting in a dim room without turning on a light for us. There are so many times I fell asleep reading on the couch and woke up with a blanket over me. Or sometimes I was fully awake doing something random, like playing Egyptian Rat Screw with my sisters (a cardgame for the uninitiated), and my mom would walk by and wordlessly drop a warm, heavy blanket over my shoulders. That’s care, y’all. Consistent, immediate action, and often without words.  

The tip here is to pay attention to your discomfort during a pandemic. There’s this immigrant stereotype of stoicism and that’s true to some degree but maybe the resilience is made possible not because of unnatural toughness but largely because immigrant parents can also be so incredibly perceptive and tender in some very tangible ways. 

When everything is chaotic around you and you’re busy multitasking these next few months, don’t ignore your needs. Notice how you’re feeling. Physically and emotionally. Where are you carrying your stress and tension in your body? You don’t have to tough it out. Oh and remember to check in with your people on how they’re feeling. Is there a light switch you can turn on for someone? 

______________________________________________

笑死人.

“Laugh to death.” 

6. Laugh to survive. Look, we didn’t have the perfect family or anything like that. We’ve definitely had our share of difficult times, financial stress, health issues, arguments, and pain. But my parents also really knew how to laugh and taught us to laugh with abandon. Like, bent over, tears running out of your eyes, can’t breathe kind of laughing. Our dinner table was kind of like a writer’s room. It was difficult to tell a mediocre story. You had better come prepared with a punchline or a point. It was a tough crowd, every night. On many occasions I stopped myself halfway through a story upon the self-realization that there was no real way to land the plane. Polite laughs were nowhere to be found, except perhaps a charitable smile from my baby sister. But it didn’t stop us from trying. I think my sisters and I are all probably better storytellers for it and we definitely have learned to try to bring humor into difficult times.  

I know that this pandemic is so incredibly dark and depressing that it can sometimes feel disrespectful, inappropriate, or childish to laugh at anything. But my parents taught me that you laugh to survive. Nothing is ever so dark that you can’t find a reason to laugh. And sometimes you really need to find something to laugh about.

I’ve been taking long breaks each day from major media news outlets but I have been finding such joy and laughter from the meme creators on IG and the comedic geniuses on Twitter. In Taiwanese when something’s really funny, people will say a phrase that is imperfectly translated as laugh to death. Like you killed a person it was so funny. Now’s the time to find that content or those people who will get you to laugh to death. 

______________________________________________

我要去挪車.

“I’m going to go re-park the cars.” 

7. Go to bed with a plan for the next morning. I grew up in a suburb of Houston, Texas where one property developer built the entire neighborhood and used the same eight or nine floor plans for all the houses but changed up the brick and trim color to keep things interesting. Most homes have a long driveway that connects a garage set near the backdoor of a home to the street. By the time I was driving, we had four cars in total -- two in the garage and two on the driveway. At the end of the day when everyone was home for the night and my dad was getting ready to go to bed, he’d announce, “I’m going to go re-park the cars.” Then we’d all kind of stop what we were doing and rearrange the order of the cars to match our morning departure schedules. This meant figuring out who was leaving when in the morning and sometimes also prompted brief check-in conversations about any changes in our usual routine. 

In a pandemic it can sometimes feel like there are a million different things to attend to and large conceptual concerns that demand your attention. But there’s something calming and centering about spending a few minutes each night thinking through specifically what needs to happen just tomorrow. Not the day after or next week. Get super tactical and specific about what tomorrow morning looks like. Check-in with your partner about any aberrations to your schedule (e.g. I have a super important conference call at 7am tomorrow) to minimize any unnecessary surprises. There’s something magical about setting up your morning that helps you rest just a little easier at night. 

______________________________________________

星期三我們有禱告會.

“On Wednesdays we have prayer meeting.”

8. Make time for your spirituality. Growing up my parents both had physically demanding jobs. My mom was a seamstress for many years, providing alterations at my aunt and uncle’s dry cleaners. She later worked in an elementary school cafeteria and then eventually became a classroom aide for special needs students. My dad worked at that same dry cleaners for years until he got a job at the post office. He then became a letter carrier, delivering mail on foot. The summer months were especially grueling, carrying a heavy sack of mail in 100 degree, humid weather, and walking until sweat soaked his shirts and blisters formed on his feet. They had every excuse to skip weeknight events. But unless they were sick in bed, I can’t remember a time when they missed their weekly prayer meeting with their friends from church.  

Pandemics have an unsettling way of forcing us to confront our mortality and can trigger a bunch of unresolved shit that has been bubbling underneath the surface. We’ve lost some of our usual coping mechanisms and it can be super hard to quiet the anxieties, fears, and other demons that we usually try to keep under control. This isn’t a lecture about a particular faith or belief system. It’s just a reminder to prioritize your existential questions, your interior life, and your connection to things much bigger than yourself -- whether that’s a community, a yoga practice, a faith group, a tradition, or something else. 

I have a fledgling meditation practice that I’ve been trying to strengthen since last year. When I say fledgling I mean that sometimes I bail before the ten minutes is up and check my phone. Even though I’m not very good at it yet, I can really tell the difference on the days that I make time for it. Our church started hosting its weekly Sunday service online and that’s challenging for me because a church service feels like it’s designed to be so much about the physical rhythm of going to a place, seeing faces of people I love, hearing their voices co-mingling with mine in song and in prayer, and tasting the bread and wine in my mouth. The online service was short, and just for viewing through a zoom conference call, but there was still something meaningful about setting aside that time Sunday morning, asking our wiggly kids to be present, and saying the liturgy out loud knowing that in homes all across the country, other people are doing the same. 

If things are really going to get as bad as some are predicting, we’ll need the spiritual strength to make it to the other side. Those habits are hard to form overnight. My parents taught me that you really have to make the time for your spirituality non-negotiable, so that you won’t abandon it when it’s inconvenient or when you are too tired.    

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沒辦法.

“What choice do we have?” 

9. Rise to the occasion. Whenever my parents are telling old war stories about things they had to do to get to where they are today, inevitably one of us will say, “Man that’s crazy, how did you manage to do it?” And instead of pointing to some super personality trait of theirs or some complex self-help principle, they always say, “We had no choice.” It’s not said in a defeated way, but in a posture of accepting that life can be cruel, unfair, and capricious. And that it’s not helpful to dwell too long on the why’s and how’s. My parents taught me that you can’t stay in despair mode. You eventually have to push yourself into problem solving mode and you do whatever it takes to move forward.  

This coronavirus is so unlike anything we’ve ever experienced in our lifetime. It is so unprecedented for me that my brain is having a hard time processing the reality of what’s happening right now and the rest of my lived experience. I spent the first few days of this week just being overwhelmed, anxious, angry, and irritable. At this point though, I’m in go mode. I’m doing what needs to be done for our family and taking care of business. What choice do we have? I can hear my parents saying it. One day, if we’re lucky, we’ll say it to our kids too. 

[chibivesicle]

Koito Otonoshin is from Kagoshima; what does the city and area reveal about his character.

While on holiday, I was very lucky to have a chance to visit Koito’s very own hometown of Kagoshima, in Kagoshima Prefecture on the southwestern part of Kyushu.  I’ve grown more attached to Koito’s character as the manga has developed and I’m more curious to try to figure out what he will do in the manga now that he has been “reunited” with Tsurumi.  So, I figured why not go visit his hometown in January when the weather will be lovely [it was]. I will admit that I tricked my Mom to go with me not knowing it was a Koito research trip, but at least told my brother.  He was fine with it since he had wanted to visit the nearby Miyazaki prefecture anyways.

This will be a little bit of a different meta post as I’ll present things I observed and try to place Koito in the context of them.  This is based on my opinion and how I interpreted and observed things around me. Please keep that in mind when reading!

To get to Kagoshima, I took full advantage of the JR Rail pass for tourists and left from Kyoto to Kagoshima-chuo, the main train station with a transfer at Shin-Kobe.  I went down in early January and it was lovely to see the scenery become more green as I went further south.  Kyushu has a different feel than the island of Honshu, you see subtropical and tropical plants and it really feels different than other parts of Japan that I have visited e.g. Tokyo, Kyoto and Osaka.  This was my first time visiting Kyushu and I really loved the southern part of the island.

If you are using a rail pass to get there, it will take you some time, it was about 5 hours or so in total from Kyoto.  If you go from Tokyo, it will take at least 7 hours and that is just from Kagoshima-chuo to Shinagawa (Tokyo area) station.  If you are unable to use a JR pass, like my brother who is currently working in Japan, or you have very limited time, the best option is to fly, say from Tokyo-Haneda to the Kagoshima airport (40 min bus ride from downtown Kagoshima).

The most obvious thing about Kagoshima and the area, is how different it is than parts of Honshu.  The entire area has that tropical/subtropical feel.  It was January and the weather was quite pleasant, around 14-16 degrees C as the high during the day and lows around 7 or so.  It was sunny and there were flowers blooming everywhere in gardens and parks and you are right next to the bay!  It was so lovely.

I have somewhat limited travel experience in Japan only able to previously visit cities like Nagoya (for work), Gifu (for work but Oda Nobunaga!), Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Hiroshima, Tokyo and Shizuoka (for maguro tuna) before this trip.  What I can say from the start is the feel and look of Kagoshima is different than these other cities.  There are more colorful buildings in Kagoshima, some were green, lime green, light pink, magenta and orange intermixed with the more standard, black, grey, white of the modern Japanese landscape.   The urban landscape was more varied and interesting than other cities I’ve been to in Japan.

There were many older western style buildings and street lights / lamp posts that looked like they were from 1880-1930. For example here is a public building that clearly looks like it is from 1900-1930 or so.  I tried to figure out what it was, but it simply said civic building and likely was now associated with the performing arts center right next to it from about the 1950s/1960s.  You can see lots of cycads(!) planted out in front of the building.  

The city still runs streetcars that have old lamps as a part of the posts that hold up their electrical cables.  I forgot to take a picture of some of the streetcars; half of their cars were old, ~1940s-1950s at the newest as well as sleek modern streetcars.  I snapped this photo of the streetcar operator while riding in the city.  Yes, it is an old lever operated drive system!  It appeared to be made by Mitsubishi, and you can see the flowers blooming in the background.

A great example of a more western style building was this large department store in the downtown part of the city.  It is the Yamakataya Department store, and after some quick online searching it appears to have been built around 1917 with other parts added on over time.  You can find more photos of it on TripAdvisor.

I spotted other older Victorian and turn of the century buildings in the city which added to the unique vibe of the city.  While wondering around the local shopping arcades looking for a restaurant, we stumbled upon an interesting glass ceiling at one of the intersection of the arcades.  Four locations are shown on the map, Kagoshima, Malacca (Malaysia), Goa (India) and Basque (Spain).

This one shows Kagoshima and Malacca, with ships, churches and random people meeting missionaries, specifically Jesuit missionaries including Francis Xavier, who visited and converted people to Christianity in Kagoshima in 1550.

The Basque region of Spain, where Francis Xavier is originally from, though he worked throughout Asia.  He was a pretty successful missionary all things considered.

It highlights his time as a missionary in Goa, India

And of course in Kyushu, including Nagasaki and other places as well as Kagoshima.  I find it quite curious they have the classic Greek constellations on the sky and not the Japanese ones.  It is quite clear that the Jesuit missionaries had an important influence on many people in Kyushu and they still have the highest number of Christians in Japan.  I would guess that local people commissioned this artwork since it clearly celebrates the life of Francis Xavier and connects Kagoshima to the other places he lived and worked.

Kagoshima is uniquely situated as how far south it is from both Kyoto and Tokyo [Edo].  By road it is between 800-900 km to Kyoto and 1,300-1,400 km from Tokyo.  This implies that it would take a long time before modern technologies in transportation to go between the places of power pre-Edo period and during the Edo period.

I was able to visit Sengan-en an estate of the Shimazu family.  The Shimazu family held power in the region since around 1300 and were both powerful warlords, but also successful in international trade due to their location on  Kinko Bay.  As the Shimazu family were still under the power of the Tokugawa shogunate they were required to journey to Edo, but as a result of the distance, they had the longest overall travel time out of everyone in Japan.  I’m sure you can quickly realize that having such a distance from the central government also resulted in the Satsuma domain having more freedom than say a powerful samurai family in Shizuoka.

Even when the Tokugawa shogunate closed off most of the country, this region was still able to trade internationally by proxy through the Ryukyu Islands (Okinawa) and developed more international style cuisine as a result.  Sweet potatoes were introduced via Okinawa and the Satsuma sweet potatoes are everywhere.  I bought and tried some dried-ish sweet potatoes that looked like twizzlers, but were underwhelming (I think this was a tourist trap, oh look sweet potato things, I’ll try them!). At Sengan-en, we ate some of the baked sweet potatoes of the local variety which were incredibly delicious as just plain potatoes.  I’ve had baked sweet potatoes elsewhere in Japan and outside, but this was the best plain baked sweet potato I have every had!  I also got sweet potato candy which is delicious, a variant of the famous Bontan Ame (a citrus caramel candy), also invented in Kagoshima!  Bontan Ame is also a great candy, I love the subtle citrus flavor.

The sweet potato are the purple caramels on the right and the citrus Bontan Ame on the left.  quantivore’s Koito is excited with Tsukishima in between! (quantivore’s artwork can be found on instagram @quantivore ). 

Bontan Ame are popular with high school girls . . . for some odd reason I think that Koito would like them too!

I was able to sample some local Kagoshima shouchu, which again, is not surprisingly made from their famous Satsuma sweet potatoes!  It tasted good and was pretty strong. I may have had more to drink than I should have with my yakiniku. There were soooo many varieties of shouchu to choose from in the area and they were sold at pretty much every gift shop!  I did not buy a bottle since I was afraid to haul it all around Japan and break it on accident.

Recall that the manga highlighted that the Sakurajima daikon are cultivated in the area around the Sakurajima volcano and are the largest daikon in the world as introduced in chapter 197.

I was unable to see a full daikon in the flesh, while visiting the Sakurajima Geo-Park, I did spot some growing in the ground and you could see large leaves!  I really wanted to see a Sakurajima daikon, in person.  The daikon was found on public city artwork and designs.  I had to settle with only seeing their leafy tops while on a bus, though I bought a small daikon charm and my brother found me a plushie at the airport.  I did eat some daikon (already cut to a much smaller size) with the regional black pork which was delicious.  The pork was richer than normal ground pork and the daikon melted in your mouth as you ate it cutting through the richness of the pork.

The daikon is important to Koito’s flashback as it helps to introduce his contrast to his older brother, who had a pale complexion like a Sakurajima daikon and tolerated Koito calling him that.

The last major regional produce of the area is citrus!  There is so much citrus in the area! The Satsuma oranges (as they are known in the UK) came from the Kagoshima region after they went to war with the British in 1863!  As a result of a naval battle between the Shimazu family and their fellow Satsuma retainers, this war only lasted a few days and resulted in great damage to the Kagoshima area.  The positive outcome of this was increased positive relations between the Satsuma region and the UK as opposed to the influence the French government had on the dying/declining Tokugawa shogunate in Edo.

Here is a Satsuma orange tree at Sengan-en.  It had an info plaque about how after the Anglo-Satsuma war they were popular for import to England.

In addition to the Satsuma oranges (aka mikan), there is a distinct variety from the area known as komikan or small mikan.  These are grown both on the volcano, Sakurajima (桜島小みかん)  and around the Kinko Bay as well (小みかん).

Look at the tiny tiny tiny komikan!

The regular mikan were quite easy to peel and delicious.  Throughout the southern part of Kyushu there were lots of different citrus species and cultivars grown.  In the neighboring Miyazaki prefecture, they had a yuzu x pomelo hybrid known as a hyuganatsu (also tasty in things!).  I digress, the point is Kagoshima as the former Satsuma domain is a place that was able to interact with western nations and it is in part represented by the movement of the citrus fruits from the area to places like the UK and the USA as well where the States actually imported and grew cultivars from the Kagoshima area.

This region was also much more forward thinking that the government in Edo.  The Shimazu family were the second largest book publishers in Japan for a very long time and they reprinted Western imported books that included science, technology and maps.  I was able to see some of their moveable type for their publishing with both Japanese kanji and kana and the Latin alphabet as well for printing foreign books (I did not spot any Cyrillic, but the museum display was small).

They were the birth of industrial manufacturing in Japan, first trying to build equipment via imported books and later sent students abroad against the rule of the government to study in the UK and the USA.  At the grounds of Sengan-en you can visit the first factory in Japan which gives a quick guide in Japanese and English about the development of industrial manufacturing.  Unfortunately, you were unable to take pictures in the museum, but they produced various goods including cannons and whatnot which helped in late Bakumatsu period and gave them a weapons advantage over the outdated technology of the Shogunate government forces.

When you get off the train at the main Kagoshima-chuo station and walk towards the bus and streetcar stops, there is a statue erected in honor of all of the young students who risked going abroad to help the growth and development of Kagoshima. 

These students also attended a World Fair in Paris or some of them not quite sure if all of them attended it was after their trips abroad.  They also circumvented the travel restriction for Japanese by registering not as from Japan but representing the Satsuma domain as an independent delegation.  I may not be 100% accurate with all of this info, since I couldn’t take photos in the museums, yet it gives you a good idea of what the Satsuma domain was doing to improve and modernize.

There is also a strong connection between Satsuma and Hokkaido - many of the leaders during the Meiji era that pushed industrialization were from Satsuma and used Hokkaido as the source for raw materials to power the factories in the south.  Plus, many people from the region moved to Hokkaido to work either as the frontier soldiers or as laborers in the “frontier”.  This has been mentioned before in regards to GK as Noda’s own great-grandfather was a frontier soldier from Kyushu (whom I’ve wondered was also a practicing Catholic based on how Noda depicts Christian theology). I recall reading this in some interviews with him translated by GK Central, but I forget which ones right now.

Another industry that grew up in the mid 1800s was the development of Satsuma cut glass (kiriko) which become more industrialized during the late Edo early Meiji period.  Unfortunately, the technology was lost and in the 1980s, it was finally determined how to manufacture it again.  As a result production started again and it is only produced in Kagoshima.

On the grounds of Sengan-en they have a fully operational glass works.  You can watch the glass being blown, shaped, cooled, marked and cut.  It was pretty neat!  I thought about buying some; it was more expensive than I expected - small pieces started at about $200 USD and it only went up from there.  There were gorgeous sets of two glass that sold for about $500 and it was clear they were wedding presents.  It was really amazing and if I had more money, I’d be tempted to purchase some myself.  My Mom did purchase a small green and blue bowl after looking at it at the glass works, and then looking at it in a Satsuma local goods store two more times before deciding to actually purchase it.

Since it was unique, the distribution of this from Satsuma helped with international relations and was considered neat by those in Europe who could purchase it.  I think the best way to look at the cut glass is that it was an excellent example of a Satsuma [Japanese] product that combined with a European product, illustrating how this region was changing to adapt to modern times outside of Japan.  There was also Satsuma porcelain that was made for the European market and it was very successful around the time of Golden Kamuy as an export.

To get an idea of the type of house that Koito likely grew up in, it would be something similar to, but obviously smaller than a place like Sengan-en.  The house was quite large and the gardens and other buildings around it made for a place that was large and significant looking.  It also had a mix of a Japanese and more Western style for some of the buildings as well as Chinese and Ryukyu influence. 

This is the main gate that leads into the area where the house is in a large courtyard.  It has a much more Chinese style with the bright red and slightly different roof shape.  The English info said it was Chinese style, but I wonder if it wasn’t more Ryukyu since they were the domain that was essentially “controlling” *ahem* them at the time.

This was the inner courtyard of the house.  The house had been added onto over time from the 19th into the 20th century as well as some parts being removed like household secretary rooms and other stuff now outdated.

The Shimazu family often hosted foreign dignitaries including Tsar Nicholas II (obviously before the Russo-Japanese war)!!!  There were two large vases that were gifted to the family from Nicholas II on display in one of the rooms with lots of historical information about how the family hosted many people from around the world.  Many of the people hosted here were from the UK and the Netherlands as well.  If I recall correctly, the highest number of foreigners were from the UK (again, that Sastuma orange link).

This is an example of how the table would have been set for dinners for hosting European guests.  The vast majority of the house was still completely Japanese in style in regards to the furniture, but this dining room and another (sitting? living) room had Western style furniture.  The table setting appears to have Dutch plates, Western cutlery and several types of glasses including the local Satsuma cut glass produced in the local glass works.  I believe my Dutch Canadian friend has the exact same plates that you can still buy today.

I took tons of photos of the grounds which featured many tropical and subtropical plants like these cycads and palm tree.  You can see some of the buildings in the background and a Western style lamp post as well.

I have no idea what this building originally was, but it was clearly based on a European inspired design and a part of the estate.  It is now a Starbucks and I didn’t investigate it any further.

The style of this house makes me think of the house that Koito lived in when his family moved from Kagoshima to Hakodate.  There was also a “foreign engineer” house close by where English engineers lived and helped with the development of Kagoshima.  I was a moron and forgot to visit it . . . but I did see it from the road.

https://whc.unesco.org/en/documents/136169

I would say it is a toss up if Koito lived in a modern Japanese style house/estate like Sengan-en in Kagoshima or in a more modern house like the white one on the Sengan-en estate or the “Hakodate” house above.

What you get from visiting a place like Sengan-en is what it would have been like to be an elite from the former Satsuma Domain/Kagoshima.  Including your personal doctor inspecting your poo everyday . . .  These [predominately] men in power were hosting and having dinners with foreigners and were very passionate about the modernization of Japan in the face of the world colonial powers getting closer to them.

This connects with the fact that Koito owns the motorbike.  Now it is unclear if this came from a Japanese individual in France or directly from a French person.  When I did my chapter meta, I assumed it came directly from a French person but upon reading it again, the translation is unclear what the nationality of the acquaintance is, just a person in France not actually French. What it does show is that Koito’s father is connected internationally as a member of the Meiji elite many of whom came from Satsuma due to their pro-Western technology slant so that the could expel the barbarians [and freely make use of their science and technology for Japan].  I would guess the fact that Koito Sr. served the Meiji government well, indicated he was more in favor of modernization and less about a more hyper samurai opinion to maintain the old ways during modernization (e.g. Saigo Takamori).

Another thing is how the men in power from places like Satsuma linked themselves to the former shogunate through marriage and likely married women from the “losing” side to further integrate themselves into the power base in Tokyo.  You wouldn’t want to completely cut out the losing side completely. Instead, with those that likely switched sides sooner integrate with them as you had the “in” to the old government which would become key for the new government fit into for stability.  Completely cutting off members of the former government would lead to future issues since many of those individuals were still clearly wealthy and had more local connections in Tokyo than someone from Kyushu may have had.

Recall, when Hijikata fights Inodou, he mentions Enomoto Takeaki in chapter 135 as noted by EHS scans.  He was a member of the Shogunate government who was key in founding the Imperial Navy that Koito’s father is a member of.

Another thing I learned at Sengan-en is that one of the Shimazu daughters married the last shogun in part to politically sway the shogun to transition and make way for the new Meiji government.  This again shows that those from places in the south were positioning individuals to allow them to create a new government as easily as possible.

Since Koito’s father is a tall, darker complexion Satsuma man, as Koito is, his flashback highlights how different his mother looks.  She’s very light in complexion and Koito mentions on his older brother looked like a Sakurajima daikon with very light skin tone.

Koito and his brother got their eye brows from their mother, yet he did not get her lighter skin tone, so on top of his Satsuma accent, other characters can tell that he’s from Kagoshima (or at least someplace in Kyushu).

I find it interesting that Koito’s mother is wearing a kimono in a house that is completely Western in decor and she almost looks uncomfortable in her surroundings.  I can’t help but think it would be more socially appropriate for Koito’s mother Yuki, to also adopt Western style dress to fit with her position and role as the wife of an important member of the military and modern society.  It is clear they are hosting foreigners in some fashion.  When I was visiting Sengan-en, there were many photos of women wearing Western style dress ~1900, so many of them also adopted their fashion like their male family and friends did.  Yet, instead, she seems out of place as though she didn’t grow up with this style (somewhere around Tokyo perhaps) and is unsure how to fit within it.  Koito in contrast since his introduction at 14, is shown wearing full Western style dress and he’s sporting a much more Western style hairstyle than any other character had as a kid.  Does he have an English style haircut? 

I always get the feeling that Koito being raised in a more Western learning environment as a child in Kagoshima and being surrounded by a greater mix of people and seeing more differences he is just more comfortable in his role as a future military kid.  He may not even realize it, but compared to many of the other GK cast members he’s both sheltered and open to things with his education.  He has been spoiled and it shows in his dependence on Tsukishima, yet at the same time, he’s one of the most educated members of the group and has to be multilingual.

His bratty behavior which does not result in punishment from his father is also interesting as I sometimes wonder if his father was hoping he’d out grow things or come to his senses. It sounds like a more Western way to parent, but it is still the early 1900s so I could totally be off the mark here.  Plus, in Koito’s flashback he seems to imply his brother’s death resulted in his father detaching himself from Koito, perhaps out of fear that if he did what his older brother did, he too would die?  I think this makes sense with how Koito Sr. does rescue him and also when he tells Koito he’s glad he’s alright post-Karafuto-Sugimoto stabbing.

Some more general observations from walking around Kagoshima.  People there seemed more relaxed, I observed people jaywalking, crossing a street against a “no crossing” sign and cars honking at each other!  The feel is completely different than very stoic cities like Tokyo or Kyoto.  Not surprisingly, there were also people with complexions that were darker like Koito and his father as well in Kagoshima and Miyazaki prefectures, so he really is a character based in reality.  Not that I doubted Noda, but he really does try to make his characters as realistic as possible.  I’m sure with current beauty standards people are more aware of this and try not to tan as much as they would have in the past, but there were quite a few people who just had a different skin tone and it was January, so not a lot of long days of sunlight. 

The other aspect of Kagoshima is its relationship with the volcano, Sakurajima.  The daikon and komikan are both grown on the slopes of the volcano due to the soil and are important local products.  The volcano dominates the region as it is visible from pretty much anywhere in the city.  It is also a very active volcano, with ash coming out almost continuously and with multiple eruptions per day.  When you walk around the city there is ash everywhere on the ground, under bushes and in corners.  The city has active street cleaners/sweepers to remove the ash from the roads. 

Here is my first good view of the volcano taken around 5pm from the Dolphin Port area.  You can see a little bit of the ash coming out of the right side of the southern peak.

Here is a view of Sakurajima from Sengan-en.  The ash is mixed with the light clouds but again it is moving to the left (a southern direction).  If you look closely you can see the electric rail line above the wall for the JR Kyushu local lines.

This is the best scenic shot taken from Shiroyama, a view point in a public park again around 5pm. Unfortunately, the trees and bushes obscured part of my view to include the northern part of Kinko Bay (to the left).  Yes, that is ash from the volcano drifting off to the right.

A similar shot from the manga is here in chapter 197. 

Here is a bit more zoomed in photo showing how the city is right across from the volcano.

I was able to take the ferry across to the volcano a quick 15 minute ride.  The volcano was a separate island until an eruption in 1914.  Hence the name of Sakurajima even though it really isn’t an island (-jima) anymore.   Interestingly, during Koito’s time (pre-1914), the volcano was dormant for most of the previous century but since they were growing the crops that thrived on the volcanic soil they were more than aware of the power of the volcano. 

Here is a picture of one of the four ferries in action.  These had space for regular passengers as well as cars for the lower decks.

The entire bay and surrounding area are a large caldera.  I’m failing to explain this well, but the volcano really is a major presence in the area.  Kind of like how you feel when you see Mt. Fuji, Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon etc but more personal.  This is from the lookout point on Sakurajima. The volcano rises up in the background.

From the viewpoint you can look back across the bay towards Kagoshima.  It was cloudy and overcast the day I visited the volcano; this is looking towards where Sengan-en is.

This is looking south towards the base of the bay eventually leading toward the ocean (it curves towards the left for the ocean).

As we took the ferry back to Kagoshima port, the sunset highlighted the cloud and ash covered top of Sakurajima.

What I’m really trying to highlight is how Sakurajima is a fundamental part of the Kagoshima area (it is part of the city) and it has influenced this area for a long time.

Unrelated, there are lots of stray cats on Sakurajima that are friendly and like to be petted.  About 50% of the population all have these stubby tails as I got this shot of an orange and black cat with the volcano in the background.  I did pet this cat.  My brother also petted some of the cats too.

With all of the things that I learned in my visit to Kagoshima, I will use them to try to understand parts of Koito’s character and what may happen in the future for his character.

1.) Koito as a Satsuma elite -

It became very clear to me visiting museums and walking around the city that Kagoshima is a very European influenced city and prized including a Western education.  My Mom also remarked that it appeared much more diverse in architecture and more Western looking (and she had no idea that I was observing this for my meta). 

It is no surprise that Koito would have been a well educated young man and also interacting with foreign visitors on a regular basis.  Before his older brother died he sounds like he was energetic but likely much more well behaved than his 14-16 year old self.  Once he realized he wanted to go into the Army after his “rescue” by Tsurumi, he was an excellent student and excelled at his courses and passed his exams to enter the military college.

He trained in Jigen-ryu and based on his skill he has shown so far in his fight with Sugimoto on the airship and when he attacked the random Russian prisoner.  Even if he was a wild child, he must have kept up the practice as demonstrated when he encounters Tsurumi in Kagoshima.  He states that he’s the son of an important man, so he’s of course using that to his advantage and he’s upset.  (special thanks to @goldenkamuyhunting​ for letting me use the new volume 20 pages!).

He then challenges Tsurumi with the old man’s cane instead of a sword.  Sure he loses for all sorts of reasons - using what appears to be a lightweight cane, letting himself get overly emotional . . . the fact it is Tsurumi.

But after Tsurumi slaps him and leaves him in shock both failing to defeat him and using jigen-ryu, Tsurumi flatters him on his form.  I take this to imply even if he is rebelling, skipping school and whatnot, he’s still practicing his jigen-ryu.

Previously, many of us avid readers of the series wanted Sofia and Koito to meet in Karafuto as we wondered if he was fluent in French as required for a military officer.  However, after leaning that many people from Satsuma were aligned with the UK and also interacted with the USA around this time, I’m wondering if Koito can speak English instead.  Tsurumi purchased weapons from a foreign arms dealer, Mr. Thomas (chapter 31).  It is pretty damn obvious with the name of Thomas this man is an Anglophone.  Though he’s based on a Scottish man, so he’d have a unique accent.

It is clear in this chapter that only Tsurumi and Tsukishima are meeting with Mr. Thomas in an isolated location.  Based on the fact that Tsukishima and Tsurumi are both speaking with him, I would assume that they are speaking Japanese.  This does not rule out that they also corresponded with him in English as well.  I wonder if Mr. Thomas will reappear in the manga again as an arms dealer.  Will the Anglo-Japanese relations of that time period come into play?

@goldenkamuyhunting​ has previous written about the fact that Mr. Thomas is likely based on Thomas Blake Glover a very successful merchant and business man in Japan who started out in Nagasaki.  He also was one of the allies of the Satsuma domain families and involved in sending the students abroad to the UK.

Since Glover was more than willing to work with those in the Satsuma and Choshu domains, eventually leading to the overthrow of the shogunate government, perhaps we are to read that he’d be okay with another rebel faction in Hokkaido?  Or since he became successful through relations in Kyushu does Koito Sr. know him?

2.) Koito is a citrus fruit.

This is a bit of an unusual angle, but I’m going to follow Noda’s lead here.  Koito refers to his older brother as a Sakurajima daikon.  It is clear that was his teasing nickname for his older brother, but it also something that he associates with his brother as a way to remember him now that he is gone.

If Koito Heinojyou is a large white daikon, than there are two options for Koito Otonoshin; sweet potato or mikan/satsuma orange.  Sweet potatoes are more of a commoner food (alternative to rice) so a mikan makes more sense.  I’m sure rich people still ate fancy sweet potato things, but likely in 1900 not all commoners could eat all the citrus grown in the area.  Fresh fruit is always expensive.

Citrus fruits are brightly colored and energetic.  All of the ones in Kyushu are various shades of orange and yellow.  The mikans are a rich orange and are sweet and tangy.  The aren’t a root vegetable like daikon or sweet potatoes, they grown on trees. Citrus need lots of care and attention to thrive.  Citrus can only grow in warm climates and until modern industrial agriculture are in coastal regions (we are not discussing the central valley in California for various reasons).  They also have fragrant flowers and are associated with people who are fresh, exciting, colorful and energetic.  When you eat any type of citrus; lemon, lime, grapefruit, pomelo, yuzu, mandarin, mikan, clementine . . . etc no one would describe the flavor as weak, dull, or subtle.  They are sweet, tangy, sour, bitter and aromatic as well.  There is a lot of emotion and depth in citrus.

He’s charming and canonically an attractive male character.  Sei Kobiyama has tweeted about this when the Vol 16 cover came out and the red eyeliner is linked to him be an attractive young man.

He’s got upper class manners and enjoys his Russian tea time.

Sei Kobiyama also noted that even when he tries to be angry and mean he doesn’t swear like the rest of the cast.

His deadpan upon his realization that he set Sugimoto up with his sabre blade.

The look of absolute horror that he may rip his skin off when trying to remove the cold hammer.  I feel sorry with the volume edit where it is clear Sugimoto chased after him and pissed on him . . .  why didn’t anyone suggest pouring some hot tea on his hand?

All of these aspects of citrus apply to Koito.  His brother was a solid first son, well behaved and stable just like the large Sakurajima daikon.  He is a native of the area, but his mother’s background is reflected in him as well.  When Koito is rescued by his father and Tsurumi, we learn that Koito Heiji is also a much more dramatic and energetic man rushing in to save his son.  These are passionate men who when at their best radiate this energy and warmth.

Koito’s older brother is a boring old root vegetable while he and his father are clearly sassy citrus, needing their sunshine and pruning etc etc.  They may be capable men but face it, Koito Sr. spent too much time hiding his feelings and Koito is a very pampered guy who is very concerned about his appearance.  Sure, he wanted Tsukishima to get his hand mirror so they could locate Vasily . . . but . . .

. . . but not without fixing his hair before looking!

And one of my absolute favorite jokes in the entire manga.  Yes, I think Noda watched the classic comedy/parody “Spaceballs” for inspiration as a Princess has a ton of luggage that she insists on taking with her to the annoyance of commoners who rescued her.

I predict 50% of this contains personal care products for him.  He’s so far north he’ll need to moisturize, and his hairstyle likely requires all sorts of products to keep it in such tip top condition.  Okay, I’m jesting a bit, but I’m sure a lot of his stuff is for him to pamper himself.

Maybe as things change he’ll become a sweet potato?  His hair color is pretty much the same color as one of the local Satsuma varieties - I kind of want to send Noda a message if Koito’s hair color is sweet potato colored.  According to Sei Kobiyama he’s supposed have crow feather colored hair, which is considered very beautiful, but I see sweet potato.

3.) Koito comes from a region where people have recently questioned authority.

The most famous individual who helped shape Meiji era Japan and was from Kagoshima was Saigo Takamori.  Tsurumi (as Hasegawa) tells Wilk, Kiro and Sofia about the 3 main founders of modern Japan.  Sofia was compared to Saigo and he is from Kagoshima.  Despite the fact that he lead to the change in government, he found himself in disagreement with the Meiji government and eventually returned to Kyushu to lead dissatisfied samurai of the region in a rebellion against the government.

It was clear visiting Kagoshima that he’s still a very famous and respected man, with many of the sites that you can visit are related to him.  There is a statue of him along the art & culture road and he’s found everywhere; in shops, on o-miyage, products.  If you see his statue in Tokyo’s Ueno Park, he’s portrayed in a less positive fashion (he’s got a bit of a beer gut as we’d say in English).

What is interesting is that Saigo worked in the Meiji government for some time.  He didn’t just immediately fight against those he should be serving.  Instead, he worked as a part of the government for some time and his somewhat both logical yet flawed ideas attempted to deal with the rapid social and societal change that the Meiji government was forcing upon everyone.  He however, seemed more focused on the military than industrializing which would be counter to what he would have ultimately wanted.  I’d say the soft power of the Shimazu family was much more forward thinking as they wanted to pursue industrialization.

Koito has spent a long time of his “focused” life trying to serve Tsurumi and prove to his father that he will be a good soldier.  With the flashback in chapters 197-200, and his confrontation with Tsukishima in 210, he almost had a nervous breakdown.

He started to put things together and when Tsukishima threatened him and told him how Ogata killed Hanazawa he just was in complete shock.  He was screaming in a non-Satsuma accent as he just did his best to behave how Tsukishima would anticipate he would behave.

I think in part when he got stabbed by Sugimoto when Asirpa escapes is in part due to the fact that he was still in shock.  He lacked the usual energy and passion and overall “Koito-ness” that he’s shown in many other chase scenes.  I honestly felt Koito was going through the motions when pursuing Asirpa and Sugimoto.  Based on his mistake of approaching Sugimoto, I really think this adds to how he wasn’t quite with it during that chapter.  He didn’t know what to think or do so he just went with the flow and relied on his training to cover up the fact that he clearly was a mess inside learning about Tsurumi.  Even though he’s quite passionate and emotional at times he clearly does hold some of his emotions in and indicated by his distance/sulking post Ogata escape.

He stubbornly tries to get Tsukishima to keep pursuing Sugimoto as he weakly tries to waive him off.  He’s trying his best to be a tough Satsuma Hayato (which I think is what he thinks he should be doing/acting as), and he made a mistake fighting Sugimoto even though he did the best he could do.  He’s likely feeling very ashamed and still trying to determine what is going on with Tsurumi anyways.  I also agree with Sei Kobiyama here that even though he’s a Satsuma Hayato, he’s too “nice” to really be one.  I just keep coming back to him and Enonoka.

When we finally learn about his health he tells his father that he’s pitiful.  Is he pitiful since he tried to stop Sugimoto?  That he realized he’s been used by Tsurumi since he was 14?  That Ogata gave him enough information that he sees what Tsurumi is doing isn’t for the benefit of the military and instead it is for Tsurumi’s own personal goals?  The good thing about Koito being injured is it will give him a lot of time to think and rest.  I really think him cornering Asirpa less than 12 hours after he learned part of the truth from Tsukishima was not a good thing for him.

That pained look on his face as his father looks away before telling him that he’s glad that he’s okay . . . and thankfully when Inkarmat finally reappears, she’s giving him his daily fortune as well as Tsukishima.  His blush likely indicates he’s got some sort of crush on Inkarmat.  He’s an extroverted guy, so he’d likely get along with someone like her.  Even though he doesn’t interact with many females, I get the feeling that he relates to them better than men.  I just think of how he was so sweet and respectful of Enonoka and he clearly enjoys Inkarmat’s company.  I get the feeling that Inkarmat in canon is supposed to be a very attractive woman and we know she is both charismatic and independent.

Koito has kept himself going by trying to follow the military order and establishment up to this point.  For him to question the system and go against Tsurumi, he will have to shatter his entire view of the military and how it operates.

I think Koito will want to seek out the truth as to what is really happening with Tsurumi. We know when he focuses on something he’s successful - just dealing with Tsurumi is going to be very difficult for him.

Thanks to @goldenkamuyhunting​, I was able to see this change to volume 20 chapter 200.  Koito is able to help himself up by himself from the blows that Ogata dealt to him.  Battered and bruised he is able to exit the small hospital and we see a determined yet rough looking Koito.  He gives the feeling of a man who wanted to catch Ogata to ask him more.  I think Koito is thinking “What do you mean about the Manchuria Railway Ogata?  What happened to Hanazawa?  Why do you know the word a Russian kidnapper told me?” . . .

We later learn in chapter 210 that Ogata mentioned the Mantetsu (Manchuria Railway) so that Koito would link Hanazawa’s death to Tsurumi’s plans.  I think Koito wanted to know what Ogata was referring to.  He’s also likely had to rethink his opinion of Ogata based on chapters 200 and 210.  He is an officer in the military, he’s an educated elite and he’s putting together big picture concepts that Ogata is dropping him hints about.  I think he’s got the potential to be a clever character as well if he can gain confidence in himself.  In the revised flashback with Tsurumi when he was 14, he was confidence using his father’s name.  He needs to be 100% confident in himself.  I hope he can get there! 

Really the biggest determent to Koito’s character is how his bratty rich kid attitude prevents him from connecting with others.  Time and time again he is not nice to others since he can get away with it.  This is the aspect of Koito’s personality that I like the least.  The only time that I liked it, is the fact that he is the only character to call out Sugimoto’s bullying and to go head to head with him.  I think the rest of the characters may want to stand up to Sugimoto, but they can’t since they aren’t as privileged so they don’t know if they can.  Koito however, just uses his baseline sense that he can push back at Sugimoto since “How dare he?” treat him poorly.  His reasoning is a bit flawed but his response is what I would like to see others do as well.  He really is just like Ogata in that regard, both of them have personalities that developed as a result of their background that makes it hard for others to connect with them.  Ogata since he’s so distant refusing to connect with others and being too sarcastic for a lowly superior private and Koito since he’s just used to others obeying him as a result of his family and privilege.

So to stick with the local food analogy - I want Koito to go from being a citrus fruit to a sweet potato.  Still important but much more humble. 

Another Kagoshima analogy would be that Koito is like Sakurajima.  His true potential and skills are dormant, but like the volcano does in his future, 1914, he reaches his full potential and is an amazing leader and force within the country.

Well that is all for my Kagoshima-Koito post.  I hope you’ve enjoyed it.  I felt that visiting Koito’s hometown gave me a better perspective on him and where he came from.  This is something I wouldn’t have know if I hadn’t visited it!  I had a great time visiting and learning about Koito, so if you have a chance to visit do so!  If people are more interested, I could do a more detailed Koito tourism post in the future.

[smileymoth]

Hatari: Visualising the end of the world may be a healing process.

by Jaane Tomps. Published 19th September 2019 on Müürileht.

Anti-capitalistic performance art group Hatari has often turned their communication with media into a joke, but according to the founder of the group, Matthías Haraldsson, this conversation includes 0% humour.

[So here it is. I tried to translate it as correctly and as true to the base text as I could. If there are any grammatical errors or weird phrasings; my apologies, English isn't my first language. :] The interview has been translated from Estonian to English and because Tumblr hates everyone, links don’t show up in the tags, aka I can’t link the original. 

Interview is under the cut!]

Hatari, who represented Iceland this year during Eurovision have certainly been one of the more controversial participants this year, yet they haven't finished with Europe. Haraldsson, who caused a lot of politic-trouble when waving around the Palestinian flags in Israel, said that destroying capitalism is going according to plan ─ they just can't lose hope now!

How far are you with the plan to destroy capitalism?

"Everything's going according to plan. We just destroyed some capitalists in the Netherlands and soon, of course Estonia, and other northern countries, will be waiting for us. We're doing well, but next year we will try turn up the tempo a lot more. We are hoping to give out an album soon and as you probably already know, we're heading for a bigger European tour. Due to Klemens just turning into a father for the second time, we can't be as efficient as we'd like; we have to learn how to fuse destroying capitalism with our own family lives. "

The situation in the world is pretty bad, has it made reaching your goals harder?

It really has, indeed. The climate collapse is one of the bigger ordeals, with which humanity has had to deal with and I think that the governments should be more active in those fields. We can't always put all the pressure on individuals, even if they can do a lot by themselves. The situation isn't to be praised right now, but we stay hopeful and trustful to our plan.

Do you enjoy the attention you received after the Eurovision song contest or would you rather leave it all behind?

To be honest, I would love to hire a duplicate of myself for concerts and tours, so I could write more. But no, the adventure and the leap we have taken, has been partially because of Eurovision, which gave us more attention. I wouldn't like to take it all back, but it is a lot of hard work and responsibility.

Has the local music scene started to treat you any differently after Eurovision?

I think so, yes, but at the same time, we have never fit into the places we've been invited to play at. We stepped up at a festival in the Netherlands and among the metal and hardcore artists stood us, that band from Eurovision. During other events, however, are we the hardcore band. We have learned to adapt. Eurovision introduced us firsthand to a lot of people and understandably, it has changed our image.

What's the story with your anger in actuality? I dare to believe that your stage-persona isn't reality...

For sure, my stage-persona is an outlet through which I meditate and manifest the anger with, which I would usually keep inside me. I usually manage to find great balance and I don't get angry a lot in my private life. I prefer to keep my emotions repressed inside me rather than speak or show them.

Which human values are overrated in your opinion?

We live in a very individualistic society. I'd say that ambitions connected with oneself, aka a person's immature ego, are overrated. I despise petty people who can't see things from an another perspective.

What is your depiction of the most fulfilling happiness?

Happiness is to be accepted and to accept others. To feel safe in a creative and an encouraging atmosphere ─  that the concepts would be respected and that it would celebrate differences. And overall,  destroy capitalism in a family friendly atmosphere.

One local schoolgirl said in a video, which recently went viral, that "The world is an empty and a useless place and people should go extinct, because climate change along with every single politician sucks." Do you agree?

Yes. That concludes it perfectly. At least that's what we try to depict. Being in denial about problems doesn't do us good, but I believe that even in the most empty places, where there are the worst politicians, it is possible to find something, about which to be hopeful about. I believe that after crashing to the bottom we can only move upward, but while being hopeful we shouldn't forget to be realistic.

What do you think the end of the world is going to be like?

I'd prefer that the world didn't end. However,  I do think that just visualising it can be a healing process and we should all do it.

Is Hatari's long-awaited album the end of the beginning of something?

It is both. I believe, that every end is the start of something new and the album has undoubtedly been a milestone for the creation that circles around Hatari. At the same time, it is also a big relief to get it off our shoulders, because after releasing that, we can focus our attention on something new. Those things always take time. We have been planning to release the album for months now, but we want to do it when we feel that it is completely ready. But it will come one day.

What's the overall conception of the album?

In the centre of its attention is corruption and the confrontation of it. Power and powerlessness. Individuality versus collective thinking. Hopefulness and hope.  Domination and surrendering. It will bring the listener to think about death, the world, and the end of all humanity as we know of it now. It will bring people to discover their deepest fears and anguish and hopefully inspire them to dream of a better future.

How do you understand that an idea is fully complete?

You don't, actually. You could work on it forever. But at a certain point you have to say, that that's the story and if we worked on it for more, it would sound differently, but it's good even in its current shape. The end result is, sometimes, also in the hands of others, because I work on the lyrics and vocals. Klemens and Einar are the ones defining the tracks.

I liked one of the interviews, where you brought up Britney Spears as one of the inspiration sources for Hatari. In which ways does she inspire you exactly?

She's a great artist and an icon of her generation. Her lyrics overcome the word-for-word understanding of a text; it's a greater level of consciousness, where we and art are the same. And her music is also very catchy.

You'll soon be performing in Narva. How much research do you do before stepping to the stage? Are you aware of the situation in Estonia right now?

Actually, my art school teacher is from Estonia. We often discuss about the current situation and usually the locals are worried about horrifyingly similar things as everyone else. They worry about the populist rhetoric and conservative and nationalist rulers, who don't take problems with the current climate seriously. I've heard, that in Estonia's government there are climate change deniers, which is an extremely serious and a worrisome topic.

You haven't visited Estonia before, right?

I've been to Tallinn once. I sang in the choir during high school. We performed in a beautiful church. It was very cold. The old town was very beautiful and I remember the guide, who had impressive knowledge of the middle ages. I remember as well, that singing in the choir wasn't exactly my thing. My high school friends were in a jovial mood and sang Icelandic national songs disgustingly loud, while I was googling Arvo Pärt in my hotel room.

I take that you're a fan of Arvo Pärt then?

Yes, he's probably one of my most favourite composers. It would be incredible to do something together with him. We have done a collaboration with one Icelandic composer and during that time, during a concert in Reykjavík, we included him within the choir. Maybe, if I sent some texts to Arvo Pärt... We would be honoured, if he created something with us for the choir or perhaps something abstract ─  it doesn't have to be lyrical, it's his own free will. If Arvo Pärt wants to contact us, then he can always write to us on the address capitalism@hatari.is. No matter which type of a collaboration he'd wish for ─ we are very open to ideas!

[cecilspeaks]

155 - The Heist, part 3

Leave no stone unturned. Leave no rock unpivoted. Leave no pebble untwirled. Welcome to Night Vale.

My brother-in-law, Steve Carlsberg, is still in jail, wrongly accused of the recent bank heist. But I am happy to have my husband Carlos back home. The Sheriff’s Secret Police had only taken him in for some questions regarding the robbery of the Last Bank of Night Vale. Sheriff Sam had deemed Carlos a person of interest, which I’ve been saying for years, but Sheriff Sam meant it differently.

Carlos said while he was being questioned at the police station, he saw the other bank employees who were there the day of the robbery. Genevieve Daly, the new bank teller, was being asked if she saw anyone other than Steve Carlsberg near the vault that day. Carlos said she was stone faced, unhappy with the interrogation. Susan Willman was there, crying, as the police asked her who else, other than Steve Carlsberg, could have a key. And security guard Jesse McNeil was there looking quite ill, almost seasick, according to Carlos, as the police tried to badger him into implicating Steve Carlsberg.

Carlos has been home for a couple of weeks and in a terrible funk. He said Steve has a nearly impossible case. The police are convinced of Steve’s guilt and all their evidence points directly to him. Carlos hardly has any energy or emotion to work, or even leave the house. I feel awful for Steve too, and we are doing our best to support him and our family.

I tried cheering Carlos up by telling him my favorite science jokes, like two chemists walk into a bar and one tells the bartender, “I’ll have an H2O” and the other says “I’ll have an H20 too,” and the bartender says and sighs.. [fed up] “It’s been a long day guys,” and then the two chemists nod and say, [embarrassed] “Yeah oh god yeah sorry, just a couple of waters thanks.” And then later they make sure to tip very well. But Carlos didn’t even crack as mile, let alone laugh, and I asked him how his doorless fridge experiment was going and he’s welcome to work on it here, in his home laboratory. I don’t even mind if he keeps staining everything green with that weird gel he’s been using. “I ran out of gel, Cecil,” he said, prone on the couch not opening his eyes. “I couldn’t work on that, even if I wanted to. which I don’t.” Hm. I wanna curl up on the couch too, stay home from work. But I know that would be terrible for Carlos. There are many times I’ve felt flat or depressed, and Carlos has been there for me, keeping me company, taking in my sadness and reflecting back not a false smile but attentive eyes, a listening posture that makes me feel heard and understood, and that’s what I want to be for him. Besides, I think Steve can beat these charges. Steve may have been the only one with a key to the vault, but they cannot prove he opened the vault, as he was locked inside his own office during the robbery. And besides, Steve keeps very detailed accounting so they wouldn’t be able to find the stolen money, not even if he had taken it. Steve Carlsberg is… [moved] the nicest man in Night Vale. He’s a good boss, breaking his foot to get free to try to protect his employees. He’s a fine father. A loving husband. And a perfect brother-in-law. It’s just not... it’s not possible. You know, if someone on the inside did this, it was probably Susan. Susan Willman is the least trustworthy person in that bank, if not in this whole town. So if you’re going to…

[loud scary noises] Station Management just slit a memo under my door gently, reminding me about libel laws. The memo is written in fire on a sleep tablet, and there’s a snake curled around it so, uhh.. I’m going to leave my Susan WIllman theory alone. But. Let’s just say that there was an untrustworthy person in that bank, and that her name was Su..anne Wilt..son. Yes, Sue-Anne Wilson, yes and this hypothetical jerk was always complaining at PTA meetings about her own personal problems, rather than focusing on the agenda, let’s just say. And this Sue-Anne Wilson once accused Steve Carlsberg of censoring her, when Steve was just trying to finish the meeting in a timely manner so that the basketball team could se the gym for evening practice. This person might well hold a grudge against Steve Carlsberg and want to not only steal from him, but frame him for the crime. 

Or, what if the Sheriff’s Secret Police… [loud scary noises] was doing a really great job, so great that they didn’t have a lot of arrests to make because the town was so safe. And of course, [chuckling nervously] they would never need to frame someone for robbery! So they would look like they were solving one of the major crimes in recent memory. Or maybe it was space slugs. Some distant aliens from across the galaxy somehow found our solar system and spotted our Earth, and then randomly chose Night Vale, and for whatever reason, they really wanted our money, so they went down inside the bank vault while the building was on fire, and without the safe key they entered the locked room because these space slugs can crawl through walls, and then they stole all the money. I don’t know! I feel helpless.[loud scary noises fade out]

Reading the news and getting angrier and angrier, but you know there’s little I can do about terrible things that keep happening. I’m sure you can’t relate. Maybe a community calendar will cheer me up.

This Saturday, the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex opens its annual Haunted Halloween Hayride. There was complications this year, because Ghost Union Local 31 went on strike for an increase in pensions and maternity leave. Teddy Williams, owner of the Desert Flower, argued that ghosts cannot retire nor get pregnant, but the union countered with vaguely human faces muttering in the shadows while Teddy screamed, and eventually, a deal was truck.

Sunday morning is the pie eating contest at the Night Vale fair. Contestants will be competing for a top prize of a 1991 Buick Le Sabre, autographed by former US presidential hopeful and Illinois governor, Adelai Stevenson.

Tuesday afternoon is a tedious song. Wednesday night is the high school dance team’s statewide semifinals at the rec center. Our own Night Vale High School is competing that night. Their top rival is Red Mesa High School, who will be performing a jazz routine called Tommy Tunes Broadway: an upbeat medley of classic show tunes. Night Vale’s dance team will present (--) [0:09:21] postmodern masterpiece (-): contemplative blend of sculpture opera and dance defined by its explosive physical bursts, chanting, and (contra-) movements born of a 22-member ensemble, who express the human body as a multidimensional art installation. Good luck to all dancers!

And finally, Thursday is sick, so Friday will be covering Thursday’s shift. Eh, except for the part about the haunted hay ride. That did not cheer me up.

I’m getting word that the Secret Police have made a breakthrough in their bank heist investigation. Or maybe they found the real thief and can let Steve Carlsberg go? [clears throat] Sheriff Sam said the lab reports came back, the fingerprints were inconclusive as their top suspect Steve Carlsberg worked at the bank, so his fingerprints were everywhere. But the lab reports did detail a strange goo police found on the vault walls. This goo, a light green gel, was also found on the walls of the cells that the other robbers had escaped from two weeks ago. So maybe my theory about space slugs is correct. No wait. The lab reports showed that this unusual chemical can render certain metals intangible, allowing people to reach through walls without breaking them. [stutters] Police believe whoever used this greenish goo used it to rob the bank’s vault and to free the prisoners inside the abandoned mineshaft outside of town. The Sheriff then said they discovered this exact same chemical on Steve Carlsberg’s property. They discovered it inside the shed behind the house, and that this is the final piece of evidence that links Steve Carlsberg to the robbery of the Last Bank of Night Vale. They believe that, oh no… Um, that Steve did not act alone, that he had an accomplice, a scientific mastermind who created this chemical for him. Who generated a complex concoction that enabled them to walk through walls stealing whatever they wanted. They have a warrant out now for Carlos’ arrest. I’ve gotta call Carlos. I- Oh, it looks like he left a voicemail.  

[beep] Carlos: Hey sweetie, it’s um me. So listen, I have um, I so-so I’ve just been arrested. No biggie, no biggie, I’m fine. This is actually good news, because I wanted to talk to the Sheriff anyway about all this, so that-that’s great. And um, I do have some new thoughts about what happened at the bank, and they’re really interesting, so they’re driving me downtown to meet with uh ooh, ouch, those cuffs are a bit tight there, officer… officer (Q. Fortier). Ah, that is a beautiful name. I-i-is that Franchian? If you don’t mind, Officer Fortier, I’m going to just finish my voicemail to my husband. So Cecil. When I get downtown, I’ll explain everything to them, Steve and I clearly did not do this and that’s what I’ll tell them, they’re police! [chuckles] You know, they just wanna know the truth, and uh ooh uh, oh Officer Fortier, I am not done with my call yet. Uh sir, what-what are you doing with my pho- [beep]

Cecil: I… I… Let’s go to the weather.

[Good Luck with That” by Fathom All the Animals https://fathomalltheanimals.com]

Cecil: Listeners, we now go live to Steve Carlsberg’s press conference at City Hall.

Steve: This has been a difficult month for me, and for my family. I thank you all for hearing me out today. I’m glad to know that these criminal charges are behind me, and I think Sheriff Sam and their secret police, as well as their Overt Police, for listening to reason and overturning the charges against me. [sadly] But of course, I’m sad to learn about their most recent arrest. Breaks my heart to know that such a dear friend of so many years, someone who’s been in home many, many times, someone I consider family, could betray me, my bank, my town in this way. I don’t even know how to talk about such a breach of trust by someone so close. [crying] Carlos! Oh Carlos. Thank you Carlos, for your brilliant and thorough evidence that put Jesse McNeil in jail today. Our security guard of nearly 50 years committed a heinous crime, and he nearly sent the two of us to prison for it.

When Carlos arrived in my cell this morning, he was all smile saying he had figured it out. He called the Sheriff over and said, “Check Jesse’s skin for the same chemical they found on the doors.” Carlos had been experimenting on the gel that allowed him to reach his hands into refrigerators without opening the door, and thus lowering the temperature of the food inside. He’d developed this chemical. He’d developed this chemical in his temporary lab in a shed behind our house. The problem with the chemical wasn’t its effectiveness and intangibility. He had been able to make that work. No, the problem with the chemical is that it stained everything it touched a dull green, including skin. Carlos showed me his own hands, which were green from the fingertips to about halfway up his forearms. He said the last few times he had seen Jesse, Jesse looked ill. Not like a flu or cold, more like seasick: queasy, green in the face. Carlos didn’t put it together right away, because we all felt sick about not only the robbery, but the false charges against me.

The police report also showed that none of the cash tills on the teller wall were affected by the fire that broke out during the robbery last month. Which means the fire had to have started on the opposite wall, which is by the front door, Jesse’s usual station. The smoke from the fire and the three robbers waving guns provided a distraction for Jesse to cover himself with Carlos’ intangibility gel, sneak downstairs past my office, where he had locked me in earlier than day, and then unload the cash from the safe and carry it into the alleyway behind the bank where his car was parked. When the fire trucks arrived, Jesse ran deliberately in front of their hoses so that the gel would all be removed from his body before the police began questioning those of us who had been inside during the robbery. But, as Carlos pointed out, the gel stains the skin for a long time, water alone won’t remove it.

Sheriff Sam brought Jesse back in for questioning based on Carlos’ statements, and found Jesse’s skin was the same dull green as Carlos’ hands. But unlike Carlos, the green stain covered Jesse’s whole body, not only his hands, indicating he had used it to walk through walls, rather than merely reach to a door.

Carlos explained that he had Jesse in his lab many times, Jesse and all my employees come to my house regularly for dinners. Like I said, they’re family to me. Jesse had taken an interest in Carlos’ science projects, so Carlos showed Jesse his doorless fridge experiment. Not long after that, Carlos noticed that the rest of his intangibility gel was gone. He thought he had just run out, even though he had made plenty of it. Never occurred to Carlos, until he saw Jesse’s green face a few days ago, that Jesse had stolen it to remove the money from the vault and his criminal colleagues from their jail cell. While I was the only person with the key to the vault, Jesse as a security guard was the only person with master keys for the rest of the building. My office door is never locked, so I don’t carry a key for it. Jesse knew this and locked me into my own office. Then his three collaborators Richard, William, and Emma created a fake robbery of the cash tills to distract from his heist of the vault. Sheriff Sam was impressed with Carlos’ explanation and arrested Jesse McNeil on the spot. Jesse turned to Carlos and Sam and said: [very deep voice] “I guess I’m going to jail now.” Sam said: [Sheriff Sam voice] “Don’t flatter yourself!”

Anyway, I finally get to return home, thanks to my brother-in-law Carlos. Thank you Susan Willman for managing the bank in my absence. Abby, Janice, I’ll be home in a few. Can’t wait to see you both again. Oh, oh, maybe I’ll bake some scones tonight! Carlos showed me a way to do it without letting the butter too warm. Oh-oh yeah!

Cecil: I’m so relieved and so glad they put the right person behind bars. And I have never been so excited to try one of Steve’s scones. That really is neat.

Stay tuned next for someone playing on a saw. No, ahem, (-) that, with a saw. It’s just someone playing around with a saw. Enjoy.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Wisdom ages like fine wine. Knowledge ages like Boston lettuce.

[doyouneedtorant]

april 29, 2019 (time unknown)

This is an old piece that I wrote for an English assignment. It is entitled “The Missing Fairy Princess”. 

It’s backpacking season at the University of Michigan. For those of you who are unaware of what that means, “backpacking” is the process of choosing classes to put in your “backpack” before registering for them at a later date. It involves many hours of obsessing over the course guide and worrying about what the future will look like if you do not get the classes that you need for your major. With that in mind, it’s an extremely stressful experience for someone as manic and worried as me. At this point in my college career, I am bombarded with adults telling me “Oh, you’re just a freshman! You don’t need to know what you’re doing with your life quite yet!” when in reality, this question of “what do you want to be” is single-handedly eating away at my heart. I am a person of many ambitions and yet in a school full of aerospace engineers, aspiring business men and women, medical students, and overachieving triple-majors, I feel as if my creativity has been pushed to the side for a more practical pursuit. In these times, I cannot help but look back at the young girl I used to be who wanted to be everything.

At my preschool culmination, the teachers all asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. All the boys and girls said they wanted to be firefighters and police officers or dentists and doctors. Yet when it got to me, I said I wanted to be a fairy princess. One of the parents laughed at me and my dad essentially told them “Hey, if my daughter wants to be a fairy princess, she can. It’s more original and creative than being a police officer, like your kid.” Now, this is just something my father has told me over and over; I can only really trust him and his memory skills to assume that this retelling of the story is actually an accurate depiction of what happened. Same goes to the time that he told me that the mothers that led our Girl Scout group had to pull him aside, because during arts and crafts, I tried to make a mind-control device to brainwash the other girls. Although I can’t remember a single thing about these events, I’ve heard these stories so many times that I can seriously see them - well, at least in my own imaginative way. I see me shrieking “I want to be a fairy princess!” at the culmination and suddenly I’m in this cute, little purple fairy costume laughing as my dad has his altercation with the other parent. I can vividly see this “mind-control device,” a black-and-white pinwheel that spins as if I was some engineer who could have actually made that at the age of eight. Over the years, these tales have deeply embedded into me that I could be whatever I wanted to be and I had the drive and ability to be or create something inspiring. And at that young age, I could have been a fairy princess. I could have made a mind-control device. And as I got older, I found myself in love with so many things - writing, singing, teaching, learning, math, English, science, animals. I wanted to be everything and when you’re eight, the idea of being everything seems achievable.

Whether or not those stories were true, there’s clearly a path of imaginative behavior that trailed off from then. Starting in elementary school, I was starting to write my own books. Yes, crappy by default, but true pieces of art in the eyes of my younger self. (My debut story was Pretty and Paris, a book about two poodles that discovered they were sisters and then one was kidnapped by a jealous ex-best friend who planned to sell her on the black market. Iconic.) I was making short films about pineapples with jobs and reality shows about my stuffed animals. I started writing music about the food in my fridge and the boys I thought were cute in my second grade class. I learned how to play the guitar and piano by my own hand and I realized I loved to write poetry. In high school, I was in theatre and started writing plays and when adults told me they were good, it encouraged that childlike creativity that had always followed me throughout the years. I was bound for amazing things and that eight-year-old girl could look in the bathroom mirror and recognize it.

But now I am 19. And, yes, that’s ridiculously young and I am fully aware how bizarre it is for me to be saying I can no longer be creative or that I cannot be whatever I want to be. But at this point in my life, there definitely is a limit on the possibilities. I came into college thinking that I would take all the classes I was interested in, that I would be in multiple clubs, that I would have internships lined up for me. But that’s not actually how reality works. There are GEs (the “general education” credits that the school swears you must take to be educated) and prerequisites that you are forced to take as stepping stones. You have a job because the cost of living in a college town is extremely exaggerated, so now the time you have for clubs is cut short. There are internship opportunities over summer but you are so tired from a demanding semester that you cannot even imagine putting in a minimal level of effort until you have to next semester. I think most importantly that the biggest shock was that if you do not do certain tasks, you absolutely cannot be whatever you want. If you do not take Biology 172, you cannot be a doctor; and if you decide halfway through your college career that you want to pursue medical school, the amount of time and effort that you would need to just catch up with the intense checklist of classes for the MCAT would probably kill you. Not to mention if you want to attend graduate school at all, the competitive nature of students today requires you to get an extremely high GPA, despite the fact that classes are gradually becoming more difficult and teachers praise themselves when they fail a whole class with an unreasonably unfair exam.

Not to mention, the stigma around being a humanities major is hard to avoid. My friends joke about me being homeless after college when my useless degree creates a jobless and unsuccessful life. Growing up in Los Angeles and attending a performing arts school warped my view on how people saw art, especially in a school that worships STEM. Where I came from everyone was going to be some sort of creative when they grew up: a performer, a dancer, an actor, a photographer, a playwright. And to be honest, I believed that. I saw my peers achieving great things while they were still seniors in high school and it made that dream seem much more realistic. With that in mind, that creative eight-year-old flew two thousand miles away from her home, destined to achieve these amazing feats, just to be told creativity is only allowed when it is flirting with practicality. Maybe I could have gone to a liberal arts school instead or somewhere more understanding of arts-oriented students, but how can one do that when the University of Michigan has so much to offer? An amazing reputation, a sense of pride that no other school could match, an incredibly talented and intelligent body of students that collaborate to increase the chance of success, a campus that looks like it was plucked from a catalog. I mean, it was a no-brainer. I knew any program I decided to go into would be academically rigorous and extremely insightful. Now, do not get me wrong, the humanities classes I have attended were exactly that, but the fear of not doing enough has become a very heavy weight on my shoulders. Everyone I meet is a future doctor, engineer, material scientist, epidemiologist, dentist, or nurse. Where were all the fairy princesses?

I decided that I needed to do more and went into what I like to call: “Phase I: I am going to be a doctor!” The idea of becoming a pediatrician was attractive; I always adored children, I wanted to find a career where I helped people, medicine and health continuously peaked my interest. So, with this in mind, I launched my pre-med phase and started to plan out the next three years of my life, the classes I would take, the medical schools I liked, what internships I would do over summer. (It’s sufficient to say I am an overthinker.) I registered for, you guessed it, Biology 172 and a statistics class, making my way through the advised pre-med checklist. Things were going pretty smoothly and then I failed two exams, started missing lectures, and had to explain to my father that for the first time in five years, my grades were not amazing. I came to the conclusion that the root of my stresses was Biology 172 and I withdrew from the class two- thirds through the semester.

No more doctor.

Right now, I am looking at pre-health or pre-social work, trying to find something realistic to pursue and the question “Where are all the fairy princesses?” haunts me. I like to ask people what they wanted to be when they were a kid and what they would want to be now, but often the answer makes me sad. My friend who just graduated with a degree in sociology told me he wanted to be a teacher when he was younger. Teachers, unfortunately, are not paid well and so many kids turn their cheek to education, unless it means becoming a professor at a high- paying university. My friend instead got his degree in sociology, but has no idea what he would ever do with it, so he is applying for reception jobs at local hospitals and clinics instead. Another friend told me he wanted to grow up to be a basketball player, but the skill required and the sheer realistic nature of the dream steered him in a different direction. If money or impracticality remained out of the picture, my dream would be performing on Broadway, or being a cast member on Saturday Night Live, or winning a Tony for Best Play, or singing my own songs in front of a giant crowd. However, the fear of failure or not having something to fall back on is honey for my anxiety.

Once again, I want to make it extremely well known that I understand how young I am. I am going to live a long, luxurious life and the worries I have now will all fit into place, and in my fifties I will be laughing with my husband and children about how silly my troubles actually were. But for now, they are real and they are daunting. It feels like everyone knows what they are doing or they are committed to suffering through the difficult classes they need to succeed. And frankly, I’m not. Every time I look in the mirror, I still see my younger self in the reflection - a purple fairy dress on, stuffed animal in hand, smile plastered to my face - and it is hard to not feel disappointed. I want to look back at that little girl and tell her that we did it. I want to tell her we became everything we dreamed of - a writer, a performer, a doctor, a veterinarian, a teacher, a psychologist, an artist, a chef. And although I cannot predict the future, I understand some of these options have been eliminated just by major choice.

To tell sixteen-year-olds that they need to have some basic understanding of what they want to do with their lives by the time they apply to college is utterly ridiculous. The way we have been taught to push ourselves to absurd heights has left no time to breathe in between class breaks. My fellow classmates are either not participating in any social scene so they can study, or they are engaging way too much and developing some form of alcoholism or drug problem before they hit twenty. Those of us who plan to go to graduate school have stopped learning in order to save space for short-term memorization, when in reality, we all went to college in hopes of learning more than we did in high school. No one seems to be super happy about what they are doing in college because despite the fact that adults have raved on about how in college you get to study exactly what you want to study, the opposite has proven itself true. I may be a speck of dust on Michigan’s campus but the alarming rate of students that feel the same way tells me that something is wrong with the whole process. During these next three years, I hope to catch a glimpse of my younger self by diving into activities and classes that excite me, but I worry that one day, she’ll fade away and I’ll just have to wait for my dad to tell me more stories about her.

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 5/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine Loki struggling to adjust to someone who is independent and insists on paying for themselves all the time, even if it is a struggle sometimes. They need to do everything on their own. They never ask for help and refuse help. Just imagine Loki really wanting to spoil this person. Imagine how creative he would get to make life easier on this person who has captivated him.

+

Imagine being a talented singer at your local club. Loki comes in one night with Thor and the others (he’d rather be anywhere else but who turns down free drinks?) and gets ensnared in the voice of the beautiful singer on stage. Suddenly, his interest (and arousal) are more than piqued.

+

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach? 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin's company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki's plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

Tags: @cateyes315

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Loki let Sirena drive her own car while she talked excitedly about how well she was doing at Whispering Waters. Apparently the manager was considering having her perform every friday night, waitress the other times, and was going to pay her a small amount and let her keep the tips.

"How cool is that though? I mean I would be able to get my name out there."

Loki could not stop the smile pulling his lips. "You are very gifted."

"Thanks. It's not… I guess it isn't so much of getting my name known, I just like to see when people hear music. Music is proven to change or elevate moods. Its why I am in the musical therapy major."

"When do your mock classes start?"

"Next week. Frigga stated there are some people really interested in the little class."

Loki watched as Sirena parked in front of a grocery store.

She gave Loki a big smile. "Object of this game is to get snacks to eat in the car. Now go. Gogogog!" 

Sirena hurried out of the car and Loki felt rushed to do it too.

She started laughing as the car locked and ran to the entrance.

Loki easily caught up to her then opened the door. At Sirena's look he walked in and shut the door so she had to open it herself.

"What the hell?" She laughed as she tried to be the intimidating fireball she was.

Loki smirked, "Everyone keeps telling me to let you do stuff yourself."

"Well yeah. But did you need to make sure the door shut?"

"It would have been considered helping."

Sirena tapped Loki's arm with a small smile then pulled him along towards the snack isle.

Sirena was picking granola bars and some chips. "So get anything you can easily eat in the car."

"Where are we going to go?"

Sirena snickered. "Depends on when you have your next scheduled alarm."

Loki grumbled, "touche."

Loki picked out a few things but were mostly candy. After purchasing their own things they went to the car.

"With all those sweets you are going to get a cavity. Clint would yell at me all the time about what I would eat because he knows I want to loose weight and be more healthy. He watches out for me." Sirena took a bite of her granola bar.

"He does seem a bit…" Loki hesitated for the right word.

"Intimidating? Yeah he got the whole older brother thing about him."

Loki immediately asked, "Brother? So you two aren't dating?"

Sirena forced a gag and muttered "ew" several times. "No we aren't dating. We knew each other from high school. He looked out for me because I would always get myself in trouble with people. I was too nice and people took advantage of me. He would scare people away from me."

"He was trying to scare me away then?"

Sirena shrugged her shoulders. "Clint is an ass but yeah. He is a great guy. He is just pushing your buttons to see if you are good for me to...talk to."

Loki had to be cheeky. "Am i good company?"

Sirena teased. "I think so."

Loki laughed at his own question. "Was this planned out?"

Sirena pouted, "Probably. Clint is good at seeing things from way outside the picture so he is good at placing things where they are supposed to be."

Loki fiddled with a piece of candy. "Where does he want us?"

"Beside each other."

"You are being vague."

"Vague? Why is there more information you are searching for?" Sirena teased.

"Just wondering if there is more to this... How did you put it..? Beside each other, Like this, in this car discussing his master painting over snacks…"

"maybe this is part of his plans.." Sirena glances at Loki's lips as she leans slightly.

Loki starts to lean in as well. 

The kiss was short, sweet, and it made Loki happy to see her smile once the short kiss was over.

Loki smirked with a tilt of his head, "so do I ask you out or do you want to ask me?"

Sirena grinned, "I initiated the kiss, so I asked."

Loki shrugged. "Fair enough. So do I get to take you out for dinner?"

Sirena seemed hesitant. "We can do our Q and A right here."

"Do you actually have insurance on your phone?" It was the first question Loki came up with.

Sirena laughed, "that question is what you open up with?"

Loki nodded with a smirk.

She sighed before answering. "Yes I do. They won't send me a new one because I dropped the phone. Something stupid about it not being the device that stopped working and it was my fault.. But it still works and I am not worried about it."

"Alright. But everytime you show me pictures on your phone I really want to get you a new one so I can see your pictures better."

"You are not the first person to complain about my phone for that reason."

"Why not get a new phone?"

"I am worried about losing my pictures."

Loki beamed. "I could help with that. Its very easy to do that. I move files all the time for work."

"Maybe. Enthusiastic helper."

Loki thought for a second. "I could teach you how to save stuff and put it all on a micro SD card or back everything up to the cloud."

Sirena looked confused. "That was all over my head. I have no idea how electronics work. I can text, call, and set alarms."

Loki tried not to laugh but a few chuckles escaped.

"Oh come on dont laugh at me!"

Loki couldn't help but laugh at her pout and the embarrassment inside her voice.

"I didn't mean to offend."

"Whatever. So there is an intersection coming up… left, right, or straight?"

Loki asked. "Really? Okay straight."

And that was the game for the night until they needed to get back to campus.

Loki and Sirena spent more time together and Clint seemed to be warming up to Loki more. There were still threats of bodily harm if Loki "ever hurt her and I will make sure you suffer too." 

Loki genuinely promised Clint he would never hurt Sirena.

Loki found himself on a new schedule and Sirena didn't mind much of his alarms because she saw how anxious he was without some daily structure. However she convinced him into a deal; he could pay for one meal a week, and on certain days she had control of what they would do with their free time. Loki had to admit he enjoyed new experiences -especially with Sirena because she is always pleasant to be around.

Sirena never let Loki pay for anything and if he did it was an ear full and she would go buy him something if he wouldn't take the money.

He tried to get creative by leaving a little money where she would find it, but she gave it away.

Loki went so far as to order things online, have them shipped to her mailbox as an "accidental delivery." Despite the company saying to keep it she would send it back or find someone else who would use it.

Then Sirena got assigned a paper to write and was stressed out about getting it done because it was on a book she just didn't understand. She found school just as important as Loki did, so homework would carve into their time together. Loki offered his help and she actually accepted it. Loki's skills at analytical reading were useful and Sirena would get Loki his favorite drink and snacks as thanks for each study session.

They would work on homework together; at first they were alone and then they had a study group with the rest of their friends. Loki invested in a personal laptop so he could program while others worked and it didn't take long to make some friends in the computer programming department too. Friends such as, Tony and Bruce.

During a study group Sirena announced she would be in a few of the art classes soon.

Fandral teased, "I am sure Loki is going to love it."

Sirena glared at Fandral. "It is very professional. There will be no suggestive atmosphere."

A few days later, Loki was in his art class and felt a little nervous as Sirena came in. Sirena discussed with Loki alone about how the class would go and how if anyone steps out of line the teacher would handle it.

It still did nothing to comfort him once she was on the podium in the plain undergarments she once explained. Everyone was on best behavior in the class which made it easier that way, but Loki's hands sweat so much he had to keep readjusting the drawing utensils. They were never intimate other than kisses,  hugs, and hand holding but now he saw the curves of her body and was memorizing them onto paper.

Not at all troubling.