#yes the intro is the same as a line from cake's 'going the distance'

[grimfox]

america, the (once) beautiful

the sun has gone down

and the moon has come up

and long ago, somebody screwed up the crux

so the tumbling, and bumbling, and struggling

masses attach themselves to madness

like some fleas on some rats

that jump past the fragile quarantine

and plague us with their factions for their warring means

a torrenting of brutal satisfaction

has duty lost the passion while enacting the redactions?

is truly human duty just to use me for your taxes?

it's factless

and classless tactics fact-pick your reactions

sedition of the ancient

vacant statement of the afters...

facts are staggered backward like a haggard bastard after

"master" trapped the ragged sapiens for laughter

it's a disaster

[misterewrites]

Intro to.....????

Hello everyone! Been awhile. It's been busy and really hot for me so it's hard for me to sit down to write sometimes.

But it's here!

E here with the next chapter and the final intro character chapter! The intro chapters were supposed to introduce everyone to the main and important characters of the story, who will be driving the main plots and stories though sometimes i might use new characters or different background characters. So beyond this chapter will be more worldbuilding, story arcs and oneshots. just stories about this world and its characters. I might even use some of my friends ocs i accidentally convinced them to make for my world. It was so much fun!

Alright that's it for me! Stay safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, take care of your loved ones, get vaccinated if you can, push to release the vaccine worldwide and have a great week! Enjoy! feel free to leave likes, feedback *I love feedback and comments even if it's just a line you liked or a scene you found awesome or funny* reblogs and tell your friends! Promoting myself still feels weird haha. E is out! Byeeeeee

If you want an easier time to read the story and since I’ve been shadow banned from tumblr for like ever now, here’s the newest chapter on ao3 right over here! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/82583164

If you are interested in my work and want to read from the beginning check it right here  https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

Interested in my full catalog? https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works

Summary: Jackdaw is a powerful crime lord in the magical side of Newton Haven. He is feared more than respected and he doesn't care who he has to crush to accomplish his goals. So when his lucrative club is burned to the ground with his guards piled neatly outside, battered broken but alive, he takes it personally. Of course who is crazy enough to burn down a club of a notoriously dangerous crimeboss? A mercenary paid to do so. 

Obviously.

----------

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

The sound of footsteps pacing back and forth thundered throughout the silent room.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

No one said anything. No one could say anything given the disastrous failure of the night. It hadn’t mattered if they were physically present at the site of offense or that they were scattered across town in one of many locations vital to the boss’s business: Someone hit them and the boss was itching to hit back.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

“Alright” A voice spoke up, smooth yet cold.

The room was already quiet but now the air filled with a frighten tension.

The boss whirled around from the massive window he’d been staring out of, eyes narrowing on the defeated group of guards who averted their gaze from his.

The few still conscious were in varying states of dishevel and injured: Broke bones, nasty bruises, clothing ruffled and torn in places. Not a single one had gone unscratched from the assault on the club earlier that night.

Jackdaw was not pleased.

No one in the room knew much about their boss despite devoting their lives to his cause: He was in his mid 30’s, his nose uneven after being broken in a fight though no one could agree what he had been fighting. Long wavy raven black hair ran down his shoulders while his dark brown eyes glanced about, icy and piercing.

“I’m a little confused.” Jackdaw said with a menacing drawl as he approached the closest guard “Mind answering a few for me?”

The guard nodded shakily.

Jackdaw smiled, patting the guard’s cheek in a mocking manner “Good, good. Now let me paint the picture: My club is currently a smoky, charred corpse of its former self. Yes?”

The guard gave another timid nod.

Jackdaw puckered his lips thoughtfully “Okay, okay. How many guards on duty?”

“8.” The guard murmured fearfully.

“Okay. How many standing?”

The guard shot a nervous glance to the other three. They found the floor more interesting.

“F-four.”

Crack!

The guard’s limp body tumbled backwards and laid still on the ground.

Jackdaw flexed his fingers “Wrong! I count three. You!”

The next in line flinched but stared their boss in the face “Sir?”

“Since that one.” Jackdaw lazily motioned to the unconscious man “is sleeping on the job, you tell me what happened.”

“O-okay.” The next in line mumbled “Well the night started same as any other….”

----------

The Gray Waves nightclub brought in a decent crowd for a weekday: Dozen or so people lost in the dim shadows with only a disorienting array of ever changing lights for company. Drinks served and the booming, thundering sounds of music set the chaotic mood clubs thrived on.

Nice peaceful night.

Floyd, the current storyteller, had been watching from the second floor landing when he noticed the gathering of guards below. The eight guards on duty were often out and about performing their different duties ranging from gate keeping the door to making sure nothing disturbed the vibe of the club. The fact five of his coworkers were huddled together should’ve been the first red flag.

The group talked in hushed tones despite the deafening bass and techno music the DJ’s speakers blared out. Once or twice, someone glanced to the far end of the club. Floyd looked and found the source of meeting.

Someone in their forties was loudly drinking at the counter tucked in the shadowy part of the club: It was impossible to tell who they were from this distance but they clearly were enjoying themselves: Head tiled back with messy, wavy salt and pepper hair. They gestured to the bartender (A wonderful woman named Carolyn who unfortunately had school debt to pay off and mob work was the best paying.) excitedly as their drink spilled onto the floor. They wore a large, tattered dark green trench coat that had seen better decades with faded worn out blue jeans. Their black boots were caked with grime and dirt that dirtied the floor. The only thing remotely new was their black t-shirt with some words in white font.

Floyd understood what the problem was: Clubs thrived on their popularity and image. People wanted to feel like they were special, all access stars to the hottest place in the city. With such a reputation came a mighty need to uphold said rep. No offense to whoever was having fun over there but with that look, it might send the wrong message and no amount of cash would ever change that.

Evidently a plan was reached as the meeting broke up. Two guards remained behind, returning to watching the room as the pit boss made his way over to the hapless customer, flanked with back up.

It was oddly satisfying watching the pit boss work: He gracefully slid in and out of crowds, slipping through the lost dancers like a snake treading through water. He motioned to the others to wait then made his way to the person.

The person was singing something at the top of his lungs. Drink, clink or something like that. Maybe it was the song playing at the time but Floyd hadn’t been paying attention to that at the time.

Trench Coat slipped Carolyn something and she laid a bottle of alcohol on the counter beside them: Vermouth? Absente? Vodka? One of those probably.

She nodded gratefully and disappeared into the back.

Floyd frowned at the red flag number two he had just seen: Carolyn was a pretty woman and was told more or less to just do as the customer asked be it answering questions or a reasonable request that wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Of course this was with the strict rule of not to leave the counter unattended.

At the time Floyd thought it was weird, not yet realizing what was about to unfold.

The person poured the bottle directly into their mouth, shaking their body to the catchy beat poorly. Whoever they were could not dance to save their life.

The pit boss, Malcolm, closed the distance between himself and his prey. He snuck closer and closer, the unaware customer too lost in their antics to noticed. Malcolm reached out for their shoulder and…

The thud was loud enough to cut through the noisy club and got the attention of everyone present.

Before Malcolm could even tighten his grip, the person struck: They whirled around, grabbing Malcolm’s head and smashing it into the counter. As Malcolm sunk to the floor, limp and unmoving, the person turned to shoot a smug grin towards the guards.

“I’m on the floor, floor! I love to dance!” They sang, one hand outstretched to the sky, the other gripping the bottle upside and draining its contents onto the counter.

The back up drew their weapons, standard issue nightsticks, and made their way forward.

“So give me more, more, till I can’t stand.”

They emptied the bottle, their green eyes never leaving the approaching guards.

“Get on the floor, floor, like it’s your last chance.”

They chucked the empty bottle into the wall of drinks, broken glass and different alcoholic drinks spilling onto the floor and mixing together.

“If you want more, more, then here I am!”

They pulled a match from within their coat pocket and lit it with the backside of their boot. Without looking, they threw the match over their shoulder and smiled as a raging flame broke out behind them.

The club goers were slow to realize what was going on but the remaining guards, Floyd included, mobilized to action.

Before anyone could react, however, an unexpected shrill shrieked throughout the building: The fire alarm designed to be the most annoying and loudest thing you’ve ever heard.

Even though it had been a slow night and only a dozen or so people were here, the customers panicked with a surge of three times that number.

Screams and yells filled the air as bodies shuffled about in a mad dash. The guards were thrown about, tossed this way and that while the lights, alarm and music worked together to confuse everyone.

Luckily the club was deserted within moments, leaving only security and the troublemaker.

The person hadn’t moved an inch despite the increasingly raging blaze behind them.

The back up pair approached carefully, unsure what this person was capable of.

All of them really had no idea.

The person raised their hand to the sky, belting with full force “LET’S DO THIS ONE MORE TIME!”

Without warning, silence and darkness filled the club: The fire alarm and music died suddenly. The lights followed a moment later but the raging flames, growing hungrily, remained. Floyd’s eyes watered with a sharp pain, the stuffy air and sudden shift in lighting too much for him

Floyd paused his story, uneasy growing at the sight of Jackdaw’s tightened jaw. The poor lad could actually see the veins pulsing with barely contained rage on his boss’s forehead.

“And why did the power go out?” Jackdaw asked through clenched teeth “No one was watching the power? Or the fusebox? Not a single person was guarding what I pay them to guard?”

Floyd remained silent, unsure how to answer that. He was just one of the lower rank and file guards: He got told what to do and he did it.

“Well? I’m waiting Floyd my boy! Why did the power go out?”

Floyd felt the beads of sweat run down his neck.

“Umm sir?”

Floyd nearly collapsed as one of Jackdaw’s techies nervously stepped forward, a loaded video on a tablet in hand.

Jackdaw blew a loose strain of hair out of his face and took a moment to slick back his hair. The vain gesture was enough to allow him to regain some level of composure as he snatched the tablet from the techie. With a grunt, he pressed play.

The video was short: It was a camera feed set up to watch over the fusebox to prevent tampering. Two guards were gesturing to the box, idly chatting with somebody in a red jumpsuit with a clipboard in one hand and a toolbox in the other. The back of uniform had the words “Newton Haven City Maintenance” scrawled across it in some rather hard to read font. The guards laughed out loud, jokingly patting the stranger’s shoulder before leaving frame. The city worker opened the fusebox and began tinkering without anyone stopping him.

The tablet crunched nosily as Jackdaw’s grip sent a ripple of cracks across the screen.

He turned to the techie.

“It was a routine check up.” the techie sputtered out “Our guards called it in this afternoon. Said there was an official letter with stamps and signatures and everything!”

“Did you check with me?” Jackdaw snarled “Because I pay the city specifically so they don’t send anyone to the club. Because of my illegal business practices that I perform there.”

Floyd could see the techie’s shoulder slump, whispering quietly “You were in a meeting….”

Jackdaw growled furiously but returned his attention to the nearly broken tablet.

It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes for the mysterious city maintenance worker to finish. They slammed the fusebox closed, doing a little jig before checking the contents of their toolbox and went on their merry little way.

Jackdaw’s blood froze as the figure gave a cheeky wink to the camera, knowing exactly where it was despite the magical wards in place to keep it invisible.

“Savant.”

An eerie emptiness replaced the hostility in the room.

The fight disappeared out of Jackdaw, leaving only an intense sense of dread and paranoia.

All this was lost on Floyd, who saw the troublemaker’s face and couldn’t help but blurt out “That’s them! The one who beat up Malcolm and burned the club down!”

Jackdaw chuckled darkly “Oh. Oh this makes sense. No one wonder you all get your ass kicked six ways to Sunday. Someone sic’d Savant on me. Ya’ll never had a chance against them.”

Floyd shuddered, the memory of how brutal and efficient Savant had been against them: Grown men dragged kicking and screaming into the shadows, the crunchy noises of bones broken, bodies falling down and yells stopped mid-shout. He still remembered Savant standing over him, nightstick in hand, whistling cheerfully as they brought down the weapon and sent him into unconsciousness.

“Alright!” Jackdaw clapped his hands “Lock it down!”

Everyone glanced towards one another, unsure what exactly the boss meant.

“LOCK IT DOWN!” the snarl that escaped Jackdaw’s lips sent goosebumps down everybody’s spine “NOW! I WANT THIS PLACE SEALED UP NICE AND TIGHT!”

“But we’re 14 stories up...”

Techie flinched as Jackdaw whirled around, eyes blazing with unrestrained rage and impatience “You deaf? I said lock down the building or so help me I’m going to use you as a human shield when they start coming for me.”

Techie opened his mouth when an unexpected sound filled the silence: A muffled, cheeky yet tacky melody of a cellphone ringing.

Glances and gazes looked about trying to find the source of the disturbance. Floyd was baffled when he realized it was coming from inside his coat pocket. Nervously, he reached within and slowly pulled out a palm sized flip phone, the kind hadn’t been used in decades.

Jackdaw’s eyes widened with fear and alarm as he snatched the phone from the poor guard with inhuman speed.

“It’s them!” Jackdaw’s voice was manic “IT’S THEM!”

The mobster was torn about what to do next: Answering meant playing right into Savant’s hands and whatever the mercenary had plan. On the other hand, not answering would no doubt annoy them into far worse retaliation.

With a hard shallow, Jackdaw answered with an uncharacteristically shy “Hello?”

He could feel his heart screech to a stop when a bored, almost nonchalant voice replied “S’up.”

Jackdaw threw as much charm and cheer into his voice “Savant, buddy! Pal!”

“Don’t.” the voice sighed tiredly “It’s pathetic when the begging start. You’re a big, bad mob boss. Act like it you dumbass.”

“Fine” Jackdaw let go of any sense of civility “Good old threats: if you so much as show your face around…”

“Ugh too much in the wrong direction” Savant replied, seemingly uninterested in what the mob boss had to said “You people are all the same: False bravado and overcompensating. It’s embarrassing. Just say you’re scared of me and we can move on.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Jackdaw couldn’t help but feel irritated “Oh is that what you want? Get your jollys when powerful people admit they’re afraid of you? You think you can….you can…”

Jackdaw paused, unsure if his ears were working correctly.

“Are you eating?”

“Hmm??” the sound of smacking lips and chewing was the mercenary’s response for a few moments “Oh yeah. Get hungry when working. Normally I’d be all for the theatrics but it’s been a long night what with fucking with your fusebox, burning down your club, planting the phone on a guard. It’s like 3 in the morning dude.”

Jackdaw bit his lip angrily, a single drop of blood running down his chin “It is 3 in the morning and I’m very tired so I’d very much like to conclude our business. How much?”

“To hire me?” more lip smacking “An amount. You could probably afford it.”

Jackdaw let his shoulder’s sag with relief “So it’s agreed? I’ll hire you and we can all be on our merry way.”

“Sure!” Savant said cheerfully.

Bullet dodged.

“You can hire me after I finish this job. By the way did you like the gift I sent you?”

Gift?

Jackdaw was a powerful and feared member of the illicit side of the magical world. He climbed to his position through sheer force of will and power. He left countless of his enemies broken and defeated in his wake.

To see him reduced to a flailing, paranoid mess would be a story no one would believe.

“GIFT?!” Jackdaw screamed, unable to keep the high-pitch whine out of his voice “WHAT GIFT?! SOMEONE FUCKING ANSWER ME!”

The techie was the first to shake off their stupor “Well there was a box that came in today. It was empty and we detected no magic so…”

“Box?!” Jackdaw spat as he wildly searched the room before landing on the seemingly innocent box just sitting on his desk “You brought it the fuck here?”

Everyone backed away.

“I…”

“Wait” Jackdaw cut off the techie’s answer “Maybe they were hoping you’d take it somewhere or get rid of it. No, no this is good. We’re outwitting the fucker.”

“Sir, the box was empty. And you told use you personally wanted to inspect any and all….”

“You hear that asswipe!” Jackdaw grinned ear to ear “My people are the best! We’re ahead of you. Your game is over, you hear me?”

“My man.” Savant’s voice was infuriatingly calm “It’s just a regular old box for a boring ass mobster.”

“Stop lying!” Jackdaw roared angrily, instinctively bringing down his fist on the closet object in the room.

Which of course was the box.

The parcel collapsed under the mobster’s supernatural strength with little effort. As the box was smashed, the two inert glyph drawn in an invisible ink on both ends collided and activated each other.

The room erupted in an array of dazzling, blinding lights.

The light show hadn’t lasted long but no one knew that as they stumbled around, disoriented and lost, the display still burned in their retinas.

Jackdaw howled violently, swiping at the air blindly with long talon-like nails. Any calls for explanations or help were lost under the raging mobster unleashed.

Jackdaw didn’t hear the window break, the sound of glass shattering as it rained upon the floor. He didn’t see the muzzle flash that flared across the street, Savant’s sniping perch. He knew nothing but the sudden searing pain that filled his shoulder without warning.

Everything drained out of him, he slumped to the floor like a doll. He weakly clutched at his shoulder, steam wafting off the wound as the sliver bullet dug itself deep in its new home.

It didn’t matter what kind of werebeast you were: Wolf, bear, rat or even a raven like Jackdaw. All them were deathly weakened by sliver. The mere smell could cause nausea, touch burned worse than third degree burns and any injuries could take weeks, maybe even months to heal.

Jackdaw wheezed, the room spinning in a messy blur.

“Right.” the phone landed by his ear but Savant’s voice sounded far off like it was echoing down a long tunnel “Sorry I got the paper right here.”

Muted sounds of pockets being turned inside out: Scraping of metal on brick, shuffling papers, even rustling fast food wrappers.

“Got it!” Savant beamed “Quinn says stay the fuck off his turf. Mind your lane or the next time he sends me I won’t be aiming for your shoulder.”

“How did you know I was...I was… no one knew...?” Jackdaw murmured incoherently.

“Your heart.” Savant explained “It’ll be your heart. Okay well I gotta go so take these next few months to reflect on any sort of ill advised turf wars, domestic disputes and fighting with your rivals. If you’re still interested in hiring me for revenge or whatever, you call me at my business payphone. Bye little birdy!”

----------

Savant dropped the phone to the floor, crushing it under their boot while rubbing the tension out of their neck. Around them was the standard stakeout gear: high powered and totally illegal sniper rifle, a neatly piled trash heap and a sniping pillow (Sniping’s hard on the stomach and knees.).

They packed away the gun, kicked the trash heap to make it look more like natural rooftop garbage and went downstairs.

Savant yawned tiredly, not at all concerned with the guards that were pouring out of Jackdaw’s hidey hole. They glanced around, trying to get their bearings when they noticed a hot dog vendor across the street.

“I really shouldn’t” they pursed their lips “Especially after paying for someone to set up the pyrotechnics spells. But I am hungry. Stomach wins!”

Savant made their way over, patting their stomach lovingly “One hotdog please. Everything on it.”

“You got it!” The vendor nodded before eyeing the commotion “What’s with that?”

“I don’t talk business.”

“O-kay. Umm here’s your hotdog. That’ll be two bucks.

Savant reached into their pocket and shoved a hundred dollars into the waiting vendor’s hand. Without a second look, Savant gratefully took the hotdog and walked away.

“Hey buddy! BUDDY! You gave me way too much!”

“You too!” Savant replied, took caught up in the rapture that was their meal.

This was a really fucking good hotdog.

[lol-im-done]

Malediction (George Weasley X OC)

https://www.wattpad.com/987805394-malediction-chapter-1-intro Hello! This is Chapter 1, I will also be updating this story on Wattpad! 

Reyna Anathema Tempestas. Running her finger over her middle name that was embossed on her leather journal she thought about her strange name. Anathema, it was Latin for ‘curse’ or ‘cursed thing’, it was a family name from her mothers side but only certain family members inherited it. It was a peculiarity that often floated in her mind as she rode the Hogwarts Express, why she was bestowed with this name and not her younger sister Helena who napped beside her on the soft seats. Staring outside of the window at the beautiful landscape she smiled at the sight of her school in the distance, it was her final year and in turning seventeen it felt like everything was coming together. The moment she blew out the candles on her birthday cake she felt something shift inside her. The slowing, creaking sound of the train brakes awoke Helena who began to wake and made their owls chirp noisily.

“Ready?” Reyna asked as she stood up, cracking her joints. Helena nodded as they readied their luggage, and two owls. Reyna made sure to adjust Helena’s robes before carefully bringing down her new broom still in its wrapping.

“Hey Reyna!” Cho Chang waved through the sliding door. Reyna waved at her friend with a smile before opening the door.

“Still half asleep Helena?” Cho asked in her soft Scottish voice, Helena grumbled an unintelligible response as she made her way out to find her friends at the carriages. Reyna gave Cho an apologetic look but she simply laughed.

“How was your ride Cho? Still getting googly eyes from Potter?” Reyna smirked as she carried her belongings alongside Cho out of the train. The cool air blew tresses of Reyna’s black hair into her face making her shake like a dog trying to dry itself.

“Stop teasing Reyna,” Cho blushed but her attention was caught by something else.

“Looks like someone has googly eyes for you,” Cho whispered. Reyna followed Cho’s eyes and tried turning her head as discreetly as she could. All she could see was a gaggle of Hufflepuff girls and a tall red headed Gryffindor nearby. Rolling her dark brown eyes she turned back to Cho.

“Get your eyes checked Cho, no one is looking at me,” Reyna retorted as they began piling into a carriage with other Ravenclaws.

“Is that your new broom?” Luna Lovegood asked, not even taking her eyes off of her magazine.

“Good eyes Lovegood. It is, maybe you can put those eyes to use and join our Quidditch team,” Reyna replied. Reyna had been trying to recruit Luna for ages but she refused to budge.

“Not likely,” Luna smiled. Reyna smiled as well, she enjoyed her conversations with Luna, no matter if everyone else thought Luna was odd.

“Roger is going to name you lead Chaser again,” Cho said as the carriage went through the forest following the long line.

“He better if he wants us to keep scoring,” Reyna jokes. “Speaking of Roger, did he ask you out?” Reyna asked, lowering her voice. Cho averted her eyes but nodded.

“I told him it was too soon,” Reyna shook her head, she had known Roger Davies since her first year becoming close friends quickly. She had also gotten close to Cho through Quidditch even if they weren’t in the same year. She had been there for her after Cedric Diggory’s death. Reyna’s stomach turned slightly at the memory of Cedric’s dead body that night in the maze. Never had she seen death so closely it had made her nauseous as she covered a young Helena’s eyes to shield her from it.

“Well maybe you’ll have some luck in the romance department this year,” Cho said optimistically.

“No romance for me this year. I’m focusing on my OWLs and on Quidditch. Then I’m going to graduate and apply at the Ministry,” Reyna swore, crossing her arms. But as the words left her mouth a pit formed in her stomach. These were increasingly dark times but as her mother had told her before she left- all would be well. Holding those words close to her heart Reyna stepped off the carriage with hope.

The next day was full of energy and excitement as students buzzed around finding their classes, greeting their friends. Even if Dolores Umbridge had left a sour taste in everyone's mouth after her speech at dinner last night, Reyna wasn’t going to let her ruin her last year. The low chatter of students filled the spacious classroom as candles flickered in the air sending a warm glow throughout. The pile of books in her arms distracted Reyna from the figure already seated at her usual table. George Weasley was ripped from his thoughts of a new potion for his shop by a thud. Looking over he saw a familiar Ravenclaw sit down with a sigh, stretching her arms, clearly sore from carrying the books. Some looked older, varying titles about History and Spells and some he had never heard of before.

“Morning,” George drawled, turning to face Reyna. His deep voice startled her, her dark eyes widening in recognition of the Weasley twin in front of her.

“Hello George!” Reyna smiled brightly, settling into the seat next to him.

“How's your arm?” George asked, eyeing her right arm. Last term in a match against Slytherin he had seen her get squished between two Chasers, her cry of pain resounding through the pitch as her arm twisted harshly being pulled from its socket.

“Better,” she grimaced, rubbing it slightly. “The team was a bit disappointed I had to miss the following match,” she said.

“That’s because you’re the best Chaser on the team,” George smirked.

“High praise from a Beater,” Reyna smirked back. She knew George Weasley from Quidditch matches mostly, seen him around here and there but this was her first class with him. Then it hit her, his twin was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Fred?” Reyna asked, looking around.

“McGonogal wanted us to have at least one class this year apart,” George frowned slightly.

“So you chose Advanced Literature?” she asked, head tilted in question. Reyna had never seen him in any of her literature studies classes, the course mostly filled with Ravenclaws.

“It was the only elective that didn’t sound too bad,” George shrugged.

“Well I promise you’ll love it and if you ever need help you just need ask,” she smiled, making George grin back before Professor McGonogal began to speak at the front of the class. Even as McGonogal went on with her lecture, George couldn’t help sneaking glances at Reyna. She had changed since last term, her raven hair had grown longer, her skin had a bronze tint to its usual olive color as if she’d spent all summer flying her broom. But she still had the usual glint in her eye, the natural rosy shade across her cheeks. Her outward appearance made her look like the usual shy studious Ravenclaw but George wasn’t fooled, he had seen Reyna out on the pitch. She was ruthless and not afraid to be adventurous on the broom to score her team points. Finally class was over and George found himself walking out with Reyna.

“What's that book you got there?” George asked, pointing to a small one on the top of her pile. Reyna glanced around a bit nervously.

“Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte,” she replied, showing him the book but he drew a blank. “It's a muggle book,” Reyna laughed.

“I’ve never read a muggle book before,” George chuckled.

“If you want you can borrow it, it's my personal copy,” she offered. George cocked his head, hesitation and confusion on his face. Reyna took his hesitation as rejection so she quickly retracted her hand.

“Oh! Sorry no- I mean yes I’d love to borrow it,” George said quickly, taking the book from her hand and before she could say anything she caught someone's eye across the courtyard.

“I’ll see you later! Roger!” Reyna called out as she pushed past the students to catch up to Roger. George watched on in interest before looking down at the book, no one had ever offered him a book like this for him to read before. Suddenly Fred crashed into his twin, wrapping an arm around him.

“Whatcha lookin at?” Fred asked, following George’s gaze out towards the courtyard where Reyna and Roger were discussing the next match, an intense look on both of their faces.

“Do you know if they have a thing going on?” George asked as innocently as he could muster.

“Davies and Tempestas? Nah, I heard he’s more interested in Chang these days. Anyways they’ve known each other since first year and nothing's come of it,” Fred explained nonchalantly, he was quite the gossip. A moment passed before the light bulb turned on in Fred’s brain. “Wait, are you interested in Reyna?” Fred questioned, dragging George along.

“No!” George defended with a shake of his head as he tucked the small book under his arm.

“Why not? She’s pretty, hell of a Chaser and if you look past being a Ravenclaw she’s the whole package,” Fred joked. George elbowed him softly in the stomach making Fred clutch it dramatically.

“Come on Freddy I’m starving,” George said.

[poppytheorist]

Me Laughing

must’ve been one hell of a joke

Preamble

So, I was in the middle of writing a piece on [redacted] when Poppy released a 27-minute video of herself laughing. Naturally, that took priority. Sorry for my absence, this post took some time. And by “some time,” I mean “45 hours.”

This may be the best thing I’ve written, but it’s also the most insane thing I’ve written. In fact, I would label this post as ‘maddening.’ It’s possible you won’t be able to look at Poppy the same way again. I know I don’t. You can’t unread this, readers beware, [other dramatic warnings], etc., etc.

Descend when ready.

…

…

…

I thought “Concrete” was pretty #wild, but “Me Laughing” takes the cake. This video is pure lunacy, and I mean that somewhat literally since Poppy does laugh at what appears to be nothing for almost half an hour.

Due to the sheer insanity of “Me Laughing,” I’ve put together a handy little collage to help readers follow along. Behold: my barely passable Paint skills!

the pic for Section 4 basically explains everything

Before we begin, I need to address a few things. There’s at least, like, nine people who read this stuff, and while I can’t say that I envy you, I can say that I appreciate you. Thanks for sticking around.

However, there’s a funny thing that happens when you know you’re writing for an audience. You feel pressured to adapt your style. I feel the need to be a little more careful about some of the things I say, but that’s probably for the best. Hopefully this extra care will result in more coherent posts, but I doubt it.

This post will be long. Partially because “Me Laughing” is long, partially because I’ve padded this out with shaky theory about how the world works. Guess that’s no different than my other posts, but still, feel free to tune that out if you’re just here for the Poppy stuff, though maybe you’ll find some of it interesting.

I tend to write authoritatively, which may be misleading because I’m not always confident about what I’m saying. I simply enjoy taking things to their natural conclusions. Typically, there’s something interesting at the end. Or, at least, a premise insane enough to make writing about it enjoyable. See, for example, my post on “Concrete.” This post won’t be much different, maybe just a little crazier.

Now, I’ve got a funny feeling that some people may think I am “reading too much into this” or that Poppy’s work “isn’t that deep.” Hey, I get it. Those objections are completely understandable. I was once there myself, but now I’ve moved away from thinking that way. I’ll do my best to explain why.

From what I’ve seen, aesthetics (roughly: the study of art) is a total battlefield. Nobody agrees on anything, everybody thinks that only they can ‘properly’ understand art and that everyone else is wrong. There’s people who think beauty is objective, there’s people who think “no, that’s stupid, beauty is obviously subjective,” and there’s even the people who outright deny that aesthetics exists. Recently, we also had the pleasure of witnessing the aesthetics debate become another facet of the everlasting culture war. Think a line from “Play Destroy” sums my thoughts about that up: “oh boy!”

Needless to say, it’s a massive shitshow.

Despite my rather war-torn depiction of modern aesthetics, it might be a good thing that we can never ‘understand’ art. I hear that’s, like, part of the point. If art was ever ‘solved,’ well, we’d be faced with the idea that there is nothing ‘special’ about being human, that we’re just sacks of meat bumbling around with no purpose. Then everybody would, like, die or something. Truth hurts, art heals, let’s stay alive.

Anywho, I mention all this because there’s no rigorous way to determine how ‘deep’ a song (or any piece of art) is. You can’t just take a stick, poke it into some art, and say: “yep, this Poppy song is 75 [metres/fathoms/hands/whatever nonsense unit] deep!” Besides, nobody even agrees what ‘artistic depth’ means, and most attempts to define it flounder. If you listen closely, you can just faintly hear Goodhart laughing.

This is also why people who think they can ‘objectively’ analyze art are dogmatic blowhards. Any amount of rigorous thinking reveals that our standards for what make art ‘good’ or ‘bad’ are entirely baseless. No, seriously, it’s a case of channeling your inner Socrates and repeatedly asking ‘why’ until the other person throws their up their arms, leaves, and stops answering your texts.

We don’t even know what art is, so thinking you can ‘understand’ art and judge its ‘depth’ is pure arrogance. At least, until someone finds a way to math that shit. “Sounds solipsism.” Well, ya gotta start somewhere.

Now, does this mean we should also throw up our arms, say: “screw it” and return to binging Netflix and eating foods that you know aren’t good for you but you eat them anyways because they make you feel good and that’s what you need right now? Well, no, actually.

Even if we aren’t 100% sure what art is, or what we should do with it, there are some theories on art that I would call: “pretty not-terrible.” Some people have spent their entire lives thinking about these things and their insights are fascinating. However, I’m not here to talk theory. If you want to learn more, go pick up a book or something, nerd.

Anyway, one time this German guy said: “without music, life would be a mistake.” He also said that looking at things from multiple perspectives is pretty neat, so that’s what we’re here to do. Turns out art is kinda fun and spending a bit more time thinking about it pays dividends.

See, art just wants to be understood and so does Poppy. I want to give her and Titanic the benefit of the doubt and take them seriously as artists. While I don’t think everything they produce is God’s gift to earth (see: [redacted]), I do enjoy the majority of their work. Plus, the abstract and absurd nature of their content means writing about it is a blast.

Whether I truly believe any of the interpretations I come up with is irrelevant. Hell, I’m not even sure half of what I say even remotely resembles what Poppy and Titanic envisioned. But, that’s not the point. Shallow readings are a dime-a-dozen, see: Genius; I’m here to provide something better. To show that Poppy’s work, or any art, really, can be a whole lot more fun if you spend even just a teensy bit of time analyzing it. Hopefully I can also provide some of the tools to do so.

Enough rambling, let’s get into it.

Intro

At first glance, “Me Laughing” seems like Poppy doing cute ASMR for 27(!!) minutes while simultaneously trolling anyone who expected a video titled “Me Laughing” to be about anything different. Sure, but that reading gets a ‘B’ for ‘Basic.’

Yes, Poppy and Titanic often troll their audience. See: “A live Interview with Poppy.” But the trolling is both part of the delivery of their message and part of the message itself. So while “Me Laughing” looks like a simple ASMR troll video, I’m going to argue that it’s not.

Previously, Poppy released videos like “Delete Your Facebook” and “I’m Poppy.” Fun vids, but they’re made of looped clips. Thirty seconds in and you’ve watched the whole thing. Consider: “Me Laughing” is 27 minutes, but no parts are looped, it’s all original. As always, I’m just here to ask: why?

Since “Me Laughing” is not made up of looped clips, but is instead all original content, there is an inherent progression to the events. Each segment is unique, and when considered sequentially, pieces from each section build on each other to produce an artistic whole.

Yes, that’s a fancy way of saying it has a ‘story.’

Also, if you’ve watched the video, you’ll know that something just feels ‘off.’ If “Me Laughing” was ‘just’ Poppy ASMR, why does she constantly focus on a single point in the distance? What’s with Poppy’s frequent stares into the camera? And why the fuck is she wearing latex?

Clearly, something else is going on.

Detailed Summary

Let’s recall what actually happens in “Me Laughing.” Hopefully this recap will convey a sense of what ‘else’ exactly is going on and make the insane claims later on in the analysis a tad easier to swallow.

“Me Laughing” starts off pretty normally. Sections 1 and 2 are mostly Poppy laughing, as promised. Even in these early sections, however, we can still pick out some peculiar things.

In Section 1, and throughout the video, we see Poppy looking upwards as she laughs, as if she was remembering something funny that happened. Or as if she was thinking about something for a while and suddenly found it hilarious. “Maybe Poppy just looks upward when she laughs.” Doubtful. Try doing it right now. Feels weird, right? Whatever, moving on…

Next oddity: there’s a strange transitioning shot at the start of the video and between Sections 1 and 2 where the camera sweeps over Poppy’s latex-ed body. “Well, maybe Titanic just thought it would be cool to do it like that.” Yes, but why did he think it would be cool? Why that transitioning shot, out of all the possible ones? What purpose does it serve?

Also: Section 1 was a very steady shot, probably filmed using a tripod, or whatever fancy word camera-people use. However, the shot for Section 2 is shaky. Like, weirdly shaky. Maybe even too shaky. And this isn’t the only section filmed this way, half of “Me Laughing” is too. “Well, maybe Titanic can’t hold a camera steady.” No, that doesn’t seem right. We know Titanic can, in fact, hold a camera steady, or, at the very least, he possesses the means to take a steady shot. See: literally all Poppy videos. No, the shaky-cam is intentional. Again, I’m just here to ask: why?

Now, I don’t mean to tip my hand too much here, but to me, the camera’s sway resembles the unsteady gaze of a curious observer. Perhaps one who is timidly stepping around the beheld, drinking in all the angles. Recall my post on “Touch Poppy.” With steady camera shots, it’s easy to forget someone is on the other side, but with unsteady shots, it’s downright impossible to ignore, e.g., “wow, that shaky-cam is really noticeable. What is this, a shitty sequel to the Blair Witch Project?” Perhaps these sections were filmed this way to emphasize the presence of an observer. As for why such a thing would be emphasized—well, we’ll get to that.

Around the 3:30 mark, Poppy shakes her head and clearly utters a, “m-mm,” as in, “nuh-uh, no way.” This gesture is repeated throughout the video. I’ll let you think about that one.

The video continues, and at 3:52 the camera lazily pans down, focusing on Poppy’s body and cutting her head out of the shot for several seconds, similar to the transition shot from Section 1 to 2. Thirty seconds later, the same thing happens. Guess this isn’t just Titanic diversifying the shot composition. It’s also about this point where attempts to pass “Me Laughing” off as anything resembling a ‘normal’ video start to fall apart.

Poppy’s sitting position in Section 3 is both clever and hilarious. It shows her whole get-up, highlighting how absurdly tall her platform shoes are. She also flip-flops her feet back and forth several times as if to further emphasize her mega-shoes. Why would she wear such crazy shoes for a simple video of herself laughing?

That’s not all that’s ‘off’ about Section 3—this is also the first section where Poppy stares at a spot in the distance for a prolonged period of time. In several instances, she quizzically tilts her head to the side, not unlike a faithful dog trying to decipher commands from her master. At 6:23 we also get a clear “huh,” a noise of acknowledgement, of understanding. Further, Section 3 has several stretches of silence where Poppy is no longer laughing. She just sits there while you watch. It’s… unsettling.

Section 4 is shot in a similarly shaky-style to Section 2, but this time with Poppy sitting down. Also, we see instances of Poppy focusing on something off in the distance both when she is laughing and when she is not, as was the case in the previous sections. However, there are some weird things about Section 4 that set it apart from the others and further develop the video.

Around the 8:38 mark, Poppy utters a “mm-mm-mm” sound while shaking her head and staring off into the distance. It’s fairly clear that she is communicating with something off-screen. Perhaps entities that are invisible to us. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say these off-screen entities are the things making her laugh.

We will see more evidence of Poppy supposedly communicating with invisible beings later, however, this is bordering on fetishizing Poppy’s lore as opposed to analyzing her artistic message. If you’re half-learned on Poppy lore (which, you better be, considering the fact that you’re reading this), this would be like focusing on the identity of ‘They’ instead of the significance of ‘They.’ Another example would be focusing on the ‘origin’ of Poppy, e.g., is she an android? Who is her creator? Etc., instead of asking why someone would create the artistic work of Poppy in the first place and/or considering the implications of said work.

If you’ve read anything else I’ve written, perhaps you’ve noticed that I try and stay away from acknowledging that Poppy even has lore. I want to take Poppy seriously, not literally. Or, in “pretentious asshole” terms, to consider her work artistically, not canonically. There are many reasons for this and I didn’t just get here randomly overnight, but that’s for another post.

Edgy ranting aside, there’s another part of Section 4 that I’d like to point out. Before this section, there was only a single instance of Poppy looking into the camera (happened in Section 2), but in Section 4, she frequently looks into the lens, acknowledging that an observer is present. She shoots this observer a flurry of dark and mischievous glances. Then she laughs.

Section 5 features more head shaking, distant staring, etc., but it is also a relatively sad section. Poppy laughs very little, and frequently looks down. Yes, a pun. Poppy has been laughing for most of the video, so why, all of a sudden, does she seem so sad?

Section 6 is shot shakily and close-up. I mean, really close-up. Like, right-in-her-face close-up. To the point where the camera is often out of focus. We’re also given a blatantly voyeuristic sweep over Poppy’s chest as the camera shifts position around her. Further, there are several instances where Poppy looks deep into the camera, with what I refer to as a “model pout,” where she slightly parts her lips and opens her eyes wide. Recall my post on “Computer Boy” where I talked about the fan-idol relationship. That lustful look? It’s for you, except everybody knows it’s not.

Quick note: I will elaborate on this when I talk about “You’re Too Close,” but it’s important to stay mindful and know that despite some uncomfortably voyeuristic shots in “Me Laughing,” it doesn’t necessarily mean that the video, or anyone who worked on it, is, y’know, perverted or something. Depicting the voyeuristic nature of idolism is how we talk about the voyeuristic nature of idolism, the same way that depicting racism is how we talk about racism.

The problem is that nowadays, we are trained to think quickly, not critically. Your initial response (also called your ‘knee-jerk’ response) to Poppy’s work shouldn’t be your final response to it. It’s important to consider context and think carefully. Ask yourself: why would Poppy choose to show you this? What does she want you to think about? What is she trying to tell you?

Section 7 is where things start to get really fucking weird.

Previously, I said that there was something darker lurking in “Me Laughing,” and Section 7 is where this darkness begins to manifest. The segment starts with Poppy having another one of her imaginary conversations with demons or whatever where she nods her head and gives some “mm-hmms” in agreement. Shortly after, she looks right at the camera and laughs in your face. Not only is her laugh absolutely maniacal, but it seems completely sincere too. This section really relates the feeling that you are not in on the ‘joke’—maybe the joke’s about you.

Section 7 also provides a sense of violent foreboding: a creeping feeling that something is going to happen to you, but you don’t know what that ‘something’ is, and you have absolutely no power to stop it. What really drives this sense of helplessness home is the way the scene is shot. At one point, the camera spends a few seconds just looking at Poppy’s hand. This emphasizes your lack of control. You are completely at the mercy of the camera’s whims. You only see what is shown to you. Then, as the scene closes, the camera is put down in front of Poppy, and, after a few tense seconds, she slowly reorients her body and starts crawling towards you. Luckily, the camera is picked up before she reaches it—you were saved, but what if you hadn’t been?

Oh, right, I forgot to mention: Poppy didn’t laugh much in this section.

Section 8 is a more amped-up version of Section 6. We get Poppy staring deep into the camera for almost the entire scene’s duration. Her lustful gaze relates a feeling of vulnerability, like you are spying on a defenseless little girl, but at the same time, it feels like she is giving you one last dose of what you want before she brutally murders you.

Section 9 is fairly straightforward. We have Poppy staring at a fixed point in the distance as if she is receiving orders from her alien overlord. We also get several rapid glances toward the camera, as if her orders somehow involve you, or as if she and someone else are sharing gossip about you right in front of your face.

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…And then Section 10 happens.

Poppy says: “goodbye.”

In Section 10 we have a bit of a climax. No, not that kind of climax. Well, unless this essay is really doing it for you.

The first interpretation of Section 10 is fairly basic, Poppy is waving goodbye because you’re about to die. Obviously, whatever scheme she and her invisible monster friends cooked up is going to be carried out, and it’s probably going to result in the destruction of everything, yourself included. This is sad, probably, but she seems to find it highly amusing. Again, I’m not a fan of obsessing over canon or lore, so I’ll tackle this one slightly differently in the analysis, but I do think this reading of “Me Laughing” is at least semi-faithful to Poppy and Titanic’s vision. This interpretation also serves as a very nice teaser for P3. I mean, if “Do you disagree?” has told us anything, P3 will have a lot of destroying.

The next reading of Section 10 involves the objectifying nature of idolism. Yes, the $5 words are starting to come out, brace yourself. Anyway, in this section, Poppy giggles as she waggles her hands around, back and forth then forth and back, as though she is using her hands for the first time. Almost like a shiny, new automaton discovering its motor functions. It’s cute, but silly. And by silly, I mean overly silly. You have to remember that Poppy is played by a woman in her mid-20s. Reminds me of some lines from “Hard Feelings”: “my arms and my legs are so stiff / Is that the way you wanted it?” Or, rather, is this how you want her to act?

At the end of the section, the camera moves right up to Poppy’s face and she looks at you and just… stares.

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And stares…

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And stares…

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She knows.

Finally, we get to Section 11, which would be my main argument against the totally boring ‘Poppy communicating with demons’ reading. Poppy is seated, again, with her arms wrapped around her thighs. Note again the sense of her smallness and vulnerability transmitted by her sitting position. Also note the way the shot is filmed, with the camera looking down on Poppy and frequently swooping in for close passes.

And then, in the last two seconds, something really bizarre happens. For a brief moment, some foreign object enters the shot, just in the very corner. Now, I’m about to make a weird argument, be wary of it. Other than the random piece of equipment entering the shot, “Me Laughing” does not end off on a noteworthy moment. Just Poppy sitting there, looking up at the camera. Plenty of instances of that. The video could have easily been trimmed by 2 seconds and nothing would have changed. We can also (probably) assume that somebody carefully reviewed this video before it was uploaded.

We’re left the possibility that those last two seconds were left in the video for a reason. And that reason is—

Hey, wait a minute, was that a mirror?

Analysis

“Me Laughing” is a really interesting video, and you can have a lot of fun if you spend some time looking into it, so that’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’ll tackle it from several different angles, watch for the switches.

Quick words of warning here: I’m about to use the words ‘parody,’ ‘satire,’ and ‘sarcasm’ interchangeably, a practice some would refer to as: “really fucking lazy.” Frankly, I don’t give a damn, I’m not a professional, I’m going to type my silly words anyway and you can’t stop me.

As content loses any sense of shame in attempting to draw your attention, nuance withers away and it becomes harder and harder to differentiate parody from parodied. For example, is “Old Town Road” criticizing the state of the music industry or embracing it? Now, I’m positive that Lil Nas X has the self-awareness of my pug when he’s lapping up his own boogers, yet I personally couldn’t write a song that so perfectly encapsulates everything wrong with modern music. So, is “Old Town Road” a parody or not?

This is where someone ripping off Westworld would say: “if you can’t tell, does it matter?” to which I would answer: “yes, yes it does.”

Context may be fleeting, unreliable, and arguably nonexistent, but I still believe it’s possible to differentiate parody from parodied, it just takes a little more effort. See, I think “Me Laughing” is satirical as hell, especially considering its context within Poppy’s body of work and how it compares to mainstream internet content.

First, consider that the frankly-titled video “Me Laughing” was hyped up for three days before it ‘premiered’ on YouTube. Hilarious, but also incisive. Who waits three days to see someone laugh? “Well, I did.” Ah.

The sarcastic nature of the video also shines through in the description, which reads: “A motion picture starring Poppy.” There’s a tired, yet necessary, statement here on the continuing degradation of internet content. What won’t people eat up?

We all know Poppy’s no stranger to sarcasm. See: “Bleach Blonde Baby” or “Poppy loves Politics.” She will often refer to her videos as “high quality internet content,” while uploading videos of herself eating cotton candy or ‘ooo-ing’ at things. With “Me Laughing,” a video where she laughs for 27 minutes, Poppy further questions where the line is regarding what content people will happily consume.

Fun story: I’ve seen people call “Me Laughing” ASMR. In fact, I think I did, at some point. Huh, I should probably change that. This isn’t totally wrong, but know that “Me Laughing” takes so many shots at ASMR you’d think the video shared a set with Sicario. And, if that’s the case, they could have saved some money and just filmed the video in my neighborhood haha… hah… ha… (seriously though I’m in danger)

Considering “Me Laughing” as a genuine ASMR video would obviously be antithetical to Poppy’s entire body of work. Recall lyrics like: “Poppy is an object.” No, “Me Laughing” is much more than simply Poppy recording cute ASMR.

Poppy has been questioning the nature of people’s ASMR obsession since her first YouTube video, “Poppy Eats Cotton Candy,” where she had the mic uncomfortably close to her throat so her little gulps and coos were clearly audible. What leads to people wanting to hear these things?

Zoom out: many of Poppy’s videos are about obsession. Forget that and the point will fly right over your head. Let’s now reframe the question: why would people want to hear such intimate sounds from Poppy? Answer that and “Me Laughing” will make a lot more sense.

What I’m about to say next will be very dense because it will outline the thesis of a large part of Poppy’s work. Sorry, hopefully it’s still readable. I’m still developing my interpretations of her work, and I promise to expand and explain them more in the future.

I’m also sure some fans will want to stab me in the neck with a rusty spoon for this post because it’ll appear like I am directly criticizing them. In reality, I am actually insinuating that Poppy is criticizing them, but nuance is dead, knee-jerk reactions reign supreme. Whatever. If you react that way, it means you’re so eyeballs deep in obsession that you fail to realize why Poppy courts your obsession in the first place. Poppy’s work entices fans to obsess over her, but it also berates those who do so.

Note that this is all as a means of criticizing the status-quo. And guess what: fans are part of the status-quo. It stings when you realize your idol’s criticisms are actually about you, but I’m not convinced Poppy is malicious. She wants you to be a better person.

This is my best estimate of her thesis: the nature of the objectification of celebrities is rooted in a sexual obsession—that is, a desire for their bodies. Pun intended. Objectification stems from fantasizing over what the celebrity shows you, which is almost always physical, or at least results in the fantasy manifesting itself as a physical representation.

In other words: “everybody wants to be Poppy.”

Poppy recognizes the inherently sexual obsession with figures in the ASMR community. She wears latex in “Me Laughing” to draw attention to this. It’s as if she was saying: “this is what you’re here for, right?”

Note that obsession is inherently progressive. It grows and grows, eventually leading to fans voyeuristically observing the objectified person’s intimate bodily functions. This culminates in “Me Laughing.” Poppy knows what you want, but as payment, she’s going to leave a nagging feeling in your brain that somehow you have done something wrong. That you shouldn’t really be watching this video, but she knows you are.

Recall Titanic’s comments about making people slightly uncomfortable. Consuming is harder with a lump in your throat. The key to understanding Poppy’s work is to ask why she wants you to feel uncomfortable. What about your behavior does she want you to realize?

Earlier in the post, I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of the whole ‘Poppy talking to demons about destroying the world’ reading because it comes dangerously close to obsessing over her lore. Lore is like history without the usefulness, so I’m going to ignore it. Regardless, I said I would use that interpretation for something more interesting, so I’d like to ask:

What makes someone want to destroy the world?

Throughout “Me Laughing,” Poppy shoots dark glares at the camera. There’s something sinister in her eyes, something genuinely evil lurking in her gaze. We know she obviously has an immense disdain for the status-quo. What else would lead to lyrics like: “down, let it all burn down / burn it to the ground”?

Preceding any cries of “viva la revolución!” or “apocalypse, now!” is an implicit judgement that what is left of the world is either not able to be saved, or not worth saving. That tearing everything down and beginning anew is preferable to salvaging what remains. To reach such a mindset, one would need to see modern society with such disgust and be so disenchanted with our current world that it no longer appears worth preserving. One would also need to have given up hope on the ability for people to come together and solve their problems. To have lost hope in humanity’s ability to adapt and overcome. To think that perhaps our problems have become too big for us to solve, that perhaps we have finally dug too deep a hole to climb out of.

Again, people don’t reach a hopeless mindset overnight; it takes many steps to descend into the darkness. But, the numpties on r/GetMotivated tell me, “every journey begins with a single step,” so let’s take one together.

In a tweet, I mentioned that “Me Laughing” was also about absurdism. No, that wasn’t a typo for ‘absurdity.’ I may write ridiculously deep-dives into Poppy lyrics and lore, but I try not to waste words.

Anyway, let’s play a game. I call it the “imagine something real quick because I need to prove a point” game.

Imagine being stuck in a system. Yes, it’s cliché to use the word ‘system,’ and any time you do, it carries the connotation that you are some conspiracy nut, e.g., “you can’t trust the system man!” I understand all this, please just bear with me and let me use the word, it’s useful. Anyway, you don’t like the system because a lot of the system is bad and it’s slowly, but surely, getting worse. The cracks are starting to show and the whole thing is poised to come crumbling down. Okay, that’s not good, you want to tell people about this. To warn them. However, in order to obtain a sizable audience for your message, you need to first succeed within the system, and to do that, you need to play by the system’s rules.

Okay, no sweat, you release some pop songs. There’s a couple of them that people really dig. Unfortunately, the songs people like don’t contain much of your message. They have a watered-down version of it at best. That’s a little sad, but oh well, at least you’re getting some sort of message out there. Hey, maybe if you make the music video really weird, people will realize there’s something more going on! Hm, that didn’t seem to work either.

So you release some YouTube videos too. Some of them are pretty biting, especially that one on politics. Should get people thinking, right? Hah, no, wrong. People like them, yes, but not for the reasons you want. They like them because they’re “weird” and “addictive” e.g., “its 3 AM on a school night and I’m still watching Poppy videos why can’t I stop lolol.” Imagining that the videos contain some sort of Illuminati-esque hidden message to decode is preferable to examining the real-world implications of the work. Plus, like, there’s experts for that, right?

Anyway, a couple albums and hundreds of videos later, you have a sizable following, sweet, now you can transition to doing what you’ve always wanted to. Change the persona to something a little truer to yourself. Make your message a little clearer. Finally, you have the power to change the world like you always promised you would.

Uh-oh, Houston, we’ve got a problem. Your audience listened to you for X, but now you’re giving them Y. It’s not a total loss, though. You have a lot of loyal members in your audience, and they like your new stuff too. Doesn’t matter what you make, they’re loyal, they’ll watch/listen/whatever to it. Their dedication has become investment which has become even more dedication. In fact, they’ve been following you since the start, when you were first trying to get big. “Yes, but I was trying to get big because I wanted to spread a message and to do that I had to make compromises to grow an audience so people would liste—“

They also have their own ideas of what you’re saying, plus, like, they make neat art, here, check this out, please give this a listen, look at this, read this, please, please? “Hey, nice article. Wait, the next one is how many words?!” And you keep every piece of fan art because it really does mean a lot to you. “Wow, I appreciate it, that’s beautiful, thank you. Oh, what? There’s even more?” Hey, if you have spare minute, could you give a shout-out to my friend? It’s her birthday. “Sure, hold on…” It’s also my birthday tomorrow, could you give this post a like? “Um, okay, just give me a minut—“ Also, could you answer my DM on Instagram? It’s important. And after that there’s only 100 more to answer! kk thanks! “Wait… one second… whoa!”

Now you’re releasing Z, hopefully that will get your message across…

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Wait—what was your message again?

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Oh no.

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Somewhere along the way, probably between performing [this] and signing [that], the essence of your message was lost. Whatever remains has been drowned out by the noise of the system. If we’re talking decibels, notifications are loud, problems are whispers, and these days everyone’s got ear plugs.

Thinking about problems is hard, thinking about them for too long is sad, being sad is uncomfortable, hey, look, Taylor Swift just dropped a new album, that “Lover” song is dope, let’s look at memes.

So, you want to change the system. But to change the system you need power. To get power, you need an audience. But the only way to get an audience is to make content that gets rewarded by the system. And the content that gets rewarded by the system is that which is easily digestible for a large audience, i.e., devoid of substance. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think “Turn Down for What” resulted in much positive social change. “Well, maybe the system should reward content that is creative, challenging, and conscientious instead!” Ah, yes, I see what you mean. So, you want to change the system…

Pass the mic, Camus, I’ve got a real knee-slapper for ya. Oh, right, guess I’ll just grab it myself.

These days, we’re faced with a new kind of absurdism, one which involves recognizing that societal systems are getting worse and need changing, while simultaneously recognizing that you are chained by said systems, and thus, powerless to change them.

This new absurdism describes the maddening exercise in doublethink where people wrestle with the knowledge that they should be Making The World A Better Place but also the knowledge that they cannot possibly live in a way that satisfies such capitalized phrases. The end result is a mental tearing fueled by impossible societal expectations and the inevitable guilt of failing to live up to them.

After a while, people stop fighting. They give up. They give in. When enough people throw in the towel, all that’s left is to hold on tight and enjoy the ride, e.g., the trajectory is set, all aboard, no, there aren’t enough seat belts for everyone, must have been one of those damn cost-saving initiatives.

“Yeah, that definitely sounds absurd. So… what do we do about it?”

Well, sometimes all you can do is laugh.

[youniversify]

WEEK 6...?

"To meet this one in all the lifetimes I will be given. In every life, in every chance, in every small opportunity that I will have—let the earth and heavens move so I can see you, meet you, and if it's not too much to ask Fate, I hope I get to love you." - writingcap

In the recent turn of events, this entry is currently optional. To be honest, I was slightly disappointed because I already loaded some possible topics in the entries. Result? This incoherent and self-indulgent rants about the topics I couldn't let go of. Some unfinished. Mostly drabbles because I spitball a lot and my attention span for it barely holds enough—I switch frequently. 

So I made this prompt of two people finding each other over and over again in even in different universes and in different lifetimes because they're soulmates out of whim because my head was swimming with thoughts of this so I manifested into writing it. Although I doubt I'll continue it given that it's farfetched to become a music video (maybe at the greatest, only a school project film), my friends still hyped it. They're wonderful. 

MV IDEA (Ben&Ben's "Araw-Araw")

"Hey."

"Hm?"

"Don't laugh."

"Wala ka pa ngang sinasabi."

"Iiih kasi, my tanong is serious!"

"Ge pagbibigyan kita."

"Naniniwala ka ba sa soulmates?"

Umaga na sa ating duyan 'Wag nang mawawala

"...Like yung multiverse theory eme?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Oo naman."

"Really?"

"Oo ngaaaa. Ang sakin lang, hindi lahat tayo may ganun. May pwedeng dalawa lang sila, may ibang tatlo. Yung iba romantic, iba platonic."

"Ay. Seryoso siya."

"Gago eh malamang seryoso tanong mo 'di ba?"

"'To naman, 'di mabiro. Pero sa tingin mo magkikita sila sa lahat ng universe na 'yun?"

Umaga na sa ating duyan Magmamahal, oh, mahiwaga

-- [CUT TO:]

Their eyes widened. But it followed a retracted confused pair of eyebrows, touch of an unfamiliar thread being prepared. They forget they're not the only ones in the room when someone else interrupts.

"Magkakilala kayo?"

— Parang?                                 — Yes?

The studio lights flicker with anticipation, but neither of them say anything.

[intro instrumental]

Action! The two pretend to bump into each other, the collision of shoulders (albeit choreographed) emitting an unraveling of the thread. Growing familiarity.

They look into each other's eyes, and in them are emotions of...

-- [CUT TO:]

...hatred, envy. Self, why did you agree on letting this damn childhood friend acquaintance stay in their own house again?

Matang magkakilala

"Hanggang ngayon nambabangga ka parin?"

Pota, family friends nga pala magulang namin.

--

Two strangers meet for the first time. "Magkakilala kayo?" And they lose the words they're finding to say.

--

https://youtu.be/5uQLDRlp0xI

I'm actually quite glad I put off watching this when it first released during the week of our Preliminary Examinations, because now I get to marvel at the ingenuity. Extraordinary talent pulsing through the screen. Silent films aren't my cup of tea so going into it, I was doubtful. After watching, I shouldn't have doubted the expression of the 19-year-old dancer and choreographer Sean Lew who wrote, directed, and produced this. I realized I shouldn't be so wary of art that I don't understand fully or those of non-linear stories, seeing other fans' reactions of (albeit it's in our human nature to) breaking down and comprehending the meaning of the scenes. Ika nga, "art—you don't have to understand everything. Mas mahalaga yung nararamdaman mo." And I felt pain, anxiety, turmoil, misery, longing, fear, hope, tranquility, peace, and love. I've been a fan of him since 2018 when I discovered them competing in World of Dance and his partnership with Kaycee Rice—which coincidentally enough, is also the time he started creating this dance film. The juxtaposition of words in each Scene: Peace & War, Harmony & Noise, Give & Take, Hopes & Doubts, Fear & Acceptance; and the choice of music deliberately fit to the abovementioned concepts: Billie Eilish's ocean eyes, Panic! at the Disco's High Hopes, Dermot Kennedy's Glory, etc. And for an experimental film, it has a clear resolution! All of the main character's pursuits of piecing together the puzzle throughout his (what seems to be a coming-of-age) journey actually gives the audience the full picture. He's able to reunite with the one he loves, and though frightened by the possibility of that love leaving again by pushing her away, they eventually get to each other's heads and settle. 

I've been reading audience feedback about how they think it's badass for a character to smoke. Squinting, I read more and learned that herbal cigarettes are what actors use during shooting. Then relieved, I searched deeper. Unfortunately I found out that even though herbal cigs are marketed as safer, they produce tar which is an active agent for causing cancer in regular cigarettes. So, ekis parin sakin if one day I produce any screenwork to have my actors use them. No smokers as characters I guess. I still have to think in special cases though, like if it's more of a plot device than a character stylistic choice. 

So I tried to watch Big Bang Theory with a friend and I just found myself conflicted. Sure, I could make a video analysis essay about misogyny played for laughs and other numerous problematic comedic tropes used throughout the series, but what caught my eye in particular is the character Sheldon Cooper Ph.D., Sc.D. Played by the brilliant Jim Parsons, he's presented as the autistic-coded (that is, not explicitly confirmed by the showrunners nor canonically diagnosed) nerd scientist whose ego is too inflated to make room for tact. Which leads me to my main point: why are stereotypically intelligent fictional characters have low emotional quotient (EQ)? You'd suppose some writers have done research and stumbled upon the IQs and EQs of people. No. Instead, they completely disregard that a person with high regard for the technical sciences wouldn't be kind in the same breath. Realistically, they would value the social sciences because these are what built civilization in the first place and have successfully created and bridged human connection. They would take to heart the value of Psychology as well! 

I discovered this podcast from the online fandom of Gaya sa Pelikula. Remember when I said they're critical thinkers? Well, one of the podcast's hosts sent this article on Parasocial Interaction to one of the lead actors himself. He then replied, grateful, with keeping himself in check as to how he views Karl.     

He did admit in a question from Direk Takes exclusive paid episode that he sometimes doesn't "banlaw" his character Karl Almasen. Banlaw in film context is the act of washing out one's own character by personality traits, attitudes, behavior, and perspective. Common reasons are because (1) playing morally tainted characters can personally affect your mental health, and (2) blurring the lines between that and other types of dangerous characters (abusers, rapists, murderers) could start to take a toll on you and make you fall into the trap of, "Huh. Maybe my character has justifiable points for genocide." In line with this, he says he doesn't banlaw because Karl is inherently this innocent, wide-eyed freshman who sees the good in everyone without malice—says he could use some of that in his real life.     

And that's so valid! He will make you kinder. But because of the fan-suggested article, he took a step back and reevaluated if there should still be a line drawn between him and Karl. In the podcast, we find the answer: Yes. Although Parasocial Interaction is defined as the audience forming a psychological close relationship with those of media personalities, it can still be redefined in the context of the media personality forming a psychological close relationship with his own formed character that may be lead to the constant interaction with his fans, myself included. "Gaya sa Payaso," the aforementioned podcast, tackles this conflict head on as the two main hosts break down situations and discern acceptability. It's an intelligent listen. I am reminded to still create distance between myself and the celebrity, no matter how close we could get. 

https://open.spotify.com/show/7mg92j83PtjmbNnQNWVr8x?si=GMEbSF9TQryQANV3xf6Xqw

Full circle moment: after watching an amazing 3-hour interview about the trials and tribulation of sports (specifically cheer), at 1 am I told Paolo that I wrote about him in my Understanding the Self entries. He responded.

A sight to see: mama and papa sitting outside at a table, eating with my sister. I hand over a slice of chocolate cake from Red Ribbon. She takes it with a full smile, and after I've stood there gaping, she shares a laugh with papa. Though the speakers blare in the garage, the noise is drowned out. 

Mundane. 

Yet unfamiliar. 

Do you ever see your parents' mortality hang over their head? Today, I did.

“Makikiisa tayo sa rebolusyong atin. Uuwi’t uuwian.” - Atria Pacaña

[kayostesting]

test

The Ace: She's a pro gamer, an expert mech pilot, a pretty good shot with her energy pistol (managing to impress even McCree with her shooting), and if the posters in the Hollywood stage are anything to go by, a successful actress as well. Action Bomb: Her MEKA has a self-destruct ability that does 1000 damage to anything in direct radius of its Area of Effect. Before a patch adjusted it, it could also harm D.Va herself. Always Someone Better: Amusingly, despite being one of the most mechanically-skilled players in existence, one of her pre-battle lines is "솔직히, 스타로 아빠는 못 이기겠더라" translating to "Honestly, I can't beat dad at Starcraft." Animal Motifs: The rabbit. Her gameplay icon consists of a white bunny, she has a bunny decal sticker on her chest, and her gun even has a pink rabbit keychain. Even her Mini-Mecha somewhat looks like a bipedal rabbit with machine guns for hands. One of her skins from the beta is even titled "White Rabbit". As the icing on the cake, her Facial Markings resemble rabbit whiskers. Her "B.Va" skin has a bee theme, complete with yellow-black color scheme and stylized insect wings and carapace, in addition to being a shout-out to the Transformers character, Bumblebee. The "Junebug" skin, its recolor, is alternatively based on June bugs. Artistic License – Military: Given how much of a tactical and security risk it would be, it's unlikely that someone like D.Va would be allowed to stream her combat operations...let alone expressly displaying real, dangerous battles for entertainment purposes. Ascended Meme: Though she doesn't transform into a nastier diminutive version of herself, one of D.Va's new emotes of August 2016 has her chowing down on D.Vas and soda while playing video games like her infamous "Gremlin" counterpart. The Halloween 2016 update turned Cardboard Meka D.Va into an official spray tag. Attention Whore: She's a very visible celebrity, appearing in live streams, movies, and other forms of mass media. Some of her dialogue gives the impression that she's more interested in putting on a good show and getting cheers than whatever the mission is about. Attack Its Weak Point: While every character receives critical damage when shot in the head, D.Va's weak point in her mech is her cockpit, which is comparatively easy to hit because it's in the center and very large. This is to offset her MEKA's high HP pool of 600, the fact that it can be hit only from the front and her ability to completely shield it with Defense Matrix. Awesome, but Impractical: When reloading her pistol, she does a little Gun Twirling before slapping in the next magazine. If she didn't, she'd presumably reload much faster, but it wouldn't look nearly as cool. The Baby of the Bunch: Though technically an adult, she's by far the youngest human member of the cast (Orisa is even younger at one month, but being an Omnic, her case is more ambiguous), and some of the older members will brush her off as Just a Kid. Badass Adorable: She's a 19-year old girl who is a professional gamer that can keep up with seasoned combatants. Badass Armfold: Her default pose in the game's menus. Balance Buff: Pre-patch, D.Va's Defense Matrix was rather lackluster: it only lasted for a few seconds, had a monstrous cooldown, and would shut off immediately if she fired her main weapon. Since said main weapon only does good damage at point-blank, this made D.Va a non-issue at a distance and (thanks to her unforgiving headshot hitbox) laughably easy to kill in close quarters, which is pretty bad for a Tank class. Post-patch, Defense Matrix's cooldown was instead replaced with a charge meter a la Reinhardt's shield or Pharah's jetpack, giving the player more control over it and making it much easier for D.Va to do her job. Bare Your Midriff: Her "Junker" and "Scavenger" skins replace her jumpsuit with a cropped top and a pair of pants. Becoming the Costume: Her B.Va and Junebug skins give her a few bug-related lines, including "All systems buzzing!" or "Did that sting?" Her Junker and Scavenger skins adds "Hear me baby? Just hold it together," as one of her respawn quotes. Bilingual Bonus: Her name means "one" in Korean, and one of her voice lines translates to "I'm number 1!" in Korean. Bland-Name Product: No, those aren't Doritos she's chowing down on in her Game On emote. Those are "D.Vas◊". Blue Is Heroic: Her suit is predominately blue-violet. She's also one of the playable characters, and all her ego problems aside, she's still genuinely committed to the defense of South Korea when the Omnic struck there. Body Armor as Hit Points: Or rather mech's armor. If she loses all armor points, her mech is destroyed and she has to fight on foot, and if she sets her mech to self-destruction, she loses all armor points. Bottomless Magazines: She can fire her mech's fusion cannons all day long, no reloading needed. The catch? Her movement speed drops to a crawl. Bubblegum Popping: Does this during on of her intros and victory poses. Bunny-Ears Lawyer: While most heroes have this to some degree, D.Va is notable in that she talks and acts like combat is simply one big video game to her. Yet she's a hero to South Korea who was deployed on the front lines. Justified, in that the government was scrambling to find new recruits and decided that drafting professional gamers was the best answer. Car Fu: Her Boosters give her mech enough momentum to damage and knock enemies down. Chicken Walker: Her mecha has this design, with back-bent legs and very claw-like toes. Close Range Combatant: Her Mech's Fusion cannons deal well above-average DPS at point blank range, but at a distance deals some of the worst. She can also use her boosters to ram an opponent and follow up with a quick melee. This starkly contrasts her Mechless form, which is a Long-Range Fighter. Comically Missing the Point: D.Va is fully aware of the fact that Sombra is a hacker, but the reason the latter has earned the gamer's ire is the fact that D.Va thinks Sombra uses her skills to cheat at video games, making it easier for less skilled gamers to believe that the skill of professional gamers are not genuine. Sombra is rather baffled at this accusation. Competition Freak: From her dialogue, this seems to be her reason for fighting at her best. She seems to treat battle like a game, but one she "play[s] to win". In the Hanamura arcade, she boasts, "No one's beating my high scores!" Concealment Equals Cover: In regards to her mech's ultimate, as long as you get out of its line-of-sight, it won't even scratch you. Theoretically, someone could stand behind a wall a foot away from the explosion and not be harmed in the slightest. Or, alternatively, one could survive her ultimate at ground zero of the explosion by standing behind a pole about an inch wide. It won't kill, but it will hurt like hell. Conscription: She, along with other top Korean gamers, was drafted into service. The Cutie: Youngest human character in the game, in her late teens, has a highly competitive streak, and has a rather petite body in a form-fitting plug suit? Yes, she absolutely qualifies. Damage Reduction: Armor in general allows a significant portion of damage-per-bullet to be reduced and (prior to the Year of the Rooster patch, D.Va (in her mech) had the highest quantity of armor in the game). However, the effect is negated by other factors in her design—particularly, the wide hitbox of the mech, as well as the absurdly large critical hitbox directly in the center of it. Also, armor is not very effective against weapons with high damage bursts (such as Pharah's rockets, Junkrat's grenades, or Zarya's fully-charged Particle Cannon — all of which, again, are easy to hit her with thanks to her bulk). Thus, she takes so much damage and so easily that many players don't even realize she even has Damage Reduction. The aforementioned patch brought her down to 200 armor, which is the same amount of armor as Reinhardt. Death from Above: Since the self destruct took time before it actually explodes, a common tactic that is used by D.Va players when they use her ultimate is to boost her mech upwards right before they activates the ultimate, taking advantage that the boosters would remain active even after D.Va activates her ultimate. When her mech drops to the ground, the enemy team are potentially being caught off-guard and would have less time to avoid the area covered by the self destruct explosion. Disintegrator Ray: Defense Matrix completely atomizes any projectiles in range, hence why explosives don't even detonate. Drop Pod: It's never specified, but her Call Mech ability looks like an orbital deployment via teleportation. And it can be used to flatten people. Early-Bird Cameo: She was initially revealed on Blizzard's Battle.Net page as a Starcraft II player who had to retire to defend her nation. Also, in the Hollywood Attack stage, she appears in a poster of a movie, apparently her pro-gaming sensation turned her into a celebrity/actress as well. Eject...Eject...Eject...: When her mech is about to be destroyed, she gets a warning about imminent ejection; a bright red message will flash on her HUD, reading 비상탈출 (pronounced as bisangtalchul), or "Emergency Escape". Ejection Seat: Well, not an actual seat, because D.Va lies in the cockpit instead of sitting, but her mech is equipped with ejection system. Explosive Stupidity: Averted in the current patch, but back when D.Va was subject to the same "Your own explosives hurt you" rule as every other character, she was notorious for dying to her own Self-Destruct Ultimate. The devs mercifully removed this weakness later on, partly due to Self-Destruct's countdown being made shorter. Facial Markings: Pink "whiskers" on her cheeks. Fighting Your Friend: If she kills a character she's friends with, she'll lovingly quip, "I still love you!" Frickin' Laser Beams: Her Defense Matrix fires very small lasers that shoot down incoming projectiles and other hazards. Frothy Mugs of Water: She can be seen on advertisements for Nano Cola, which looks exactly like Soju. This ad can also be unlocked as a spray. Future Spandex: She wears high tech skin-tight jumpsuit.h Fun with Acronyms: Looking closely on her default skin, will reveal that MEKA stands for: Mechanical Exo-force of the Korean Army. Gamer Chick: She's a professional gamer. It seeps into her actual combat speech; when using her Defense Matrix, she calls it raising her APMnote and when she activates her MEKA's Self-Destruct Mechanism, she boasts "Nerf this!" Additionally, her MEKA makes distinct low-bit sounds that one would expect from an older video game, and her sidearm is called the Light Gun, even going as far as to resemble a controller from a light gun game rather than having realistic ammunition and firearm colors. Gatling Good: Her mech is armed with twin rotary fusion cannons. Genki Girl: She's rarely ever not cheerful, and she treats the action around her like a game rather than an actual combat zone. Glass Cannon: In her mech-less state, D.Va can do heavy amounts of damage with just her pistol, but she can die to one or two high damage attacks and has no means of escape or defense. Goomba Stomp: It's difficult, but very possible, to crush someone with D.Va's mech when calling it in. Gun Twirling: Part of her reloading animation. Hell-Bent for Leather: Her "Junker" and "Scavenger" skins give her leather chaps, bracers and a cropped vest. Hidden Depths: A conversation with Mei reveals that D.Va has an adventurous side. She loves reading the former's journal, and wishes she could visit all the different places the climatologist explores. A quote on Eichenwalde also shows a quieter, more pensive side to her. I Know Mortal Kombat: Her mastery of video games, including Starcraft II gave her the reflexes and instincts necessary to pilot the mech. McCree: D.Va, just tell me one thing. Where'd you learn to shoot like that? D.Va: 16-Bit Hero! Improbable Age: She's only 19, in a game where almost all the other characters are at least in their mid-20s, if not 30s and up. Doesn't stop her from kicking ass alongside and against fighters with far more experience. Irony: In her MEKA, she has the most durability of any Hero in the game, at 600, a good fraction of which is armor (Roadhog also has 600 HP but it's all health that offers no damage reduction or self-regeneration).However... Outside of her MEKA, she ties with Tracer for the least HP of any Hero in the game, at 150. In-Vehicle Invulnerability: Nothing can hurt D.Va personally until her mech is destroyed and she gets out, though Sniping the Cockpit does do more damage to the mech for some reason. In the Back: D.Va's design makes flanking or attacking enemies from the rear the best way to use her offensively. Going head-to-head with anyone is a bad idea because they can "headshot" her much more easily than she can do the same. For the most part, D.Va's job in a head-on fight is to cover the rest of her team with Defense Matrix until the other team falls apart and scatters. Jack-of-All-Trades: In terms of a tank, she has the basic tools to achieve whatever the team needs (she has decent mid-to-close-range DPS, mobility and flanking options with Boosters, and her on-foot form system gives her slightly more survivability and long-range options). She excels in primarily two areas. One, her Defense Matrix destroys any projectile that comes near it, allowing her counter most forms of burst damage. Two, her ultimate itself has the highest burst damage of any attack in the game, making it instant death if the enemy is stunned or has nothing to get behind. Jerk with a Heart of Gold: D.Va's a bit bratty and arrogant and absolutely relishes the spotlight, but she takes her mission seriously and her interractions show her to be pretty chummy with other heroes, accepting without a second thought to sign autographs for Reinhardt and Lucio and complimenting Mei on her travel journal. Its also shown with some of her voice lines that she is legitimately saddened by what the Omnic Crisis has done to her country and hopes to restore it back to normal. Jet Pack: Her Boosters ability. The Juggernaut: While she activates her Boosters, few things can stop her. She can push enemies away with it, and yes, that includes punting them down into Bottomless Pit. Kid-Appeal Character: The closest Overwatch has to one, being the youngest human hero and clearly made to appeal to the young gamers. Kid Hero: Slightly older than the usual example, but is otherwise the closest example of one in Overwatch being that she's 19 in a game where the majority of the cast are above 30. The Knights Who Say "Squee!": Is a fan of Lúcio's music. When Lúcio asks her for an autograph, she will ask for his as well. Knockback: Her Boosters can push enemies out of the way, disrupting their positions at the least and potentially sending them into a nearby Bottomless Pit. Call Mech will push back any enemies in proximity of the incoming mech, meaning that someone who tries to go against a mech-less D.Va may suddenly find themselves falling off a cliff to their deaths, not helped by her Ultimate gauge charging very quickly while in this mode. Leaning on the Fourth Wall: An interaction with Soldier: 76 displays this but it isn't certain if D.Va has fourth wall awareness or she just thinks this as a philosophy or if it's just a reply to his statement. Soldier: 76: War isn't a game. D.Va: Are you sure life isn't a game, Soldier: 76? Lethal Joke Character: Mechless D.Va might seem like an easy kill, but her Light Gun shouldn't be underestimated: it has a fairly fast fire rate, doesn't suffer the harsh damage falloff of her MEKA's Fusion Cannons, and is capable of headshotting. If the player's aim is good, it's entirely possible for them to take an enemy from full HP to zero with one clip. She also gains a lot of Ultimate charge on each hit, meaning that a good on-foot D.Va can get a new MEKA within seconds, essentially negating what would be death for any other character. Lightning Bruiser: In her MEKA, she's one of the most mobile characters, has a ton of health, deals good damage, and can block incoming fire as well. Outside of her MEKA, she becomes a Long-Range Fighter. Long-Range Fighter: Outside of her MEKA, D.Va has access to an extremely accurate automatic pistol with no damage drop-off at range. Provided that she can land all of her shots (preferably headshots), she can kill most average-health characters in seconds. However, in that form, she has no mobility, no offensive or defensive abilities, and low health, so most characters able to close the distance can kill her easily. Magic Skirt: Averted with her Palanquin skin, her short skirt behaves much like a real skirt would in a fight, luckily she wears some Modesty Shorts. Meaningful Name: Her first name, Hana, means "one" in Korean. She was a world champion professional gamer who was enlisted in a special mecha division of the Korean army before joining Overwatch. Mechanically Unusual Fighter: She has two different states (in mech and on foot), and a different Limit Break for each (manual self-destruct, and summoning a new mech respectively). She also changes to a Fragile Speedster when outside her mech, and she can stay alive after her mech is destroyed if she can survive long enough to summon a new one. Military Superhero: Even though she's supposed to be a gamer, decal MEKA logo stickers on her suit and mecha indicate she's a member of MEKA - "Mobile Exo-Force of the Korean Army". Mini-Mecha: Rides around in her MEKA, which is a relatively small mech shaped like a rabbit. She calls it a "suit" when summoning it, but it's not actually Powered Armor, since it uses a cockpit and its limbs are controlled via joysticks. Modesty Shorts: When wearing her Palanquin skin, she has a pair of white biker shorts under her skirt, which is a good thing considering how often the skirt rides up when she is taken out on foot. Ms. Fanservice: She isn't the most curvaceous female member in the cast, but that bodysuit is pretty form-fitting. Additionally, D.Va also fulfills the non-looks fanservice, being a Gamer Chick that drops in a lot of gaming lingo and references, thus she's also won the hearts of male players in the 18-21 age range. Mundane Utility: Apparently her MEKA Defensive Matrix can also be used for dancing lights and playing a top-down shooter. No Sell: Her shield has a very small effective zone compared to Reinhardt or Winston, but their shields will break under fire. As long as hers is up, she will stop every projectile that meets the shield. She can negate an entire Roadhog ultimate, completely nullify Pharah's ultimate, and prevent Hanzo's, Mei's, and Zarya's ults from happening at all with her shield. Pink Means Feminine: She decorates her entire arsenal as well as parts of her costume with the color pink. Post-Apunkalyptic Armor: Her "Junker" and "Scavenger" skins wouldn't be out of place in Fallout or Mad Max. Power Fist: Her mech can punch enemies with its fusion cannons. Product Placement: Referenced and parodied In-Universe with her own brand of chips◊ named D.Vas◊, in the Game On emote, and played straight in the real world with Blizzard Entertainment's logo can be seen on her right leg of her out-of-mech suit. Pre-Explosion Buildup: Precedes her mech's self-destruction, complete with Pre-Explosion Glow and Sucking-In Lines. Product Displacement: It isn't clear just what type of soda Hana drinks during her Game On emote. The white label over the can completely obscures whatever it could be. Punch-Packing Pistol: At range, her laser pistol is more deadly than her mech's Fusion Cannons...and more accurate, too. Ranged Emergency Weapon: Her laser pistol has no damage dropoff from range, and has no accuracy spread. If you can line up every shot at a distance, you can deal massive damage in one clip. Self-Destruct Mechanism: Her ultimate has her eject from her mech while it self destructs dealing a wide area damage. She Cleans Up Nicely: While she was never unattractive to begin with, her "Palanquin" skin has her wear a traditional hanbok and a braided haircut, and she looks gorgeous. She's Got Legs: Her "Palanquin" skin has her in a hanbok with a very short skirt that accentuates her slim, feminine legs. Shoot the Bullet: Her Defensive Matrix ability is actually two laser arrays plus incredibly fast reflexes. Sore Loser: When she's killed and revives, she says, "I'm not a good loser!" That seems fitting, considering that she was a professional gamer. Stance System: Using D.Va in her mech and outside of it means essentially learning to play as two separate characters: one, a Lightning Bruiser mixed with an Action Bomb, and the other a Long-Range Fighter Glass Cannon. Super Reflexes: The reason she was drafted. It also shows up when she uses her Defense Matrix, where her Mech deploys holographic distance markers and lets her individually shoot down every projectile that comes into it. Fans have done the math, and it turns out her APM is frankly superhuman: An individual Tracer's Pulse Pistols fire 40 rounds per second. If 6 Tracers were to simultaneously fire into D.Va's Defense Matrix, D.Va can shoot down 240 rounds per second without fail, meaning she's fully capable of 14400 actions-per-minute. To put this into perspective, the highest real-life APM ever recorded was Park Sung-joon's 818. She can also fully withstand Roadhog's ultimate, which according to this post fires approximately 145 projectiles per second. If she were to face against 10 Roadhog ultimates (5 enemy Roadhogs and 5 on her team deflected by an enemy Genji), in a best-case scenario, her maximum APM would be 87500 APM. Damn. Throw-Away Guns: Taken to an extreme whenever D.Va's mech is destroyed or she triggers its Self-Destruct Mechanism. Given a little time she'll just summon a new one without incident. [Verb] This!: The enemy team hears this when she uses her Ultimate. D.Va: Nerf this! Victory by Endurance: A D.Va vs D.Va fight is this by default. Since D.Va can't fire while using Defense Matrix, one D.Va blocking the other is a complete wash. Also, trying to charge at another D.Va only results in taking the full damage of her Fusion Cannons. Thus, the vast majority of D.Va mirror fights are decided by who attacked first and who had the most health. V Sign: Does this during one of her intros and victory poses. We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties: Not unlike Gazlowe in Heroes of the Storm, if D.Va is hit by Ana's Sleep Dart, she will move the joysticks desperately to try and get her MEKA back online. Wearing a Flag on Your Head: Her Summer Games skin changes her bodysuit and mech's colors to those of the South Korean flag. What a Piece of Junk: Unlike her shiny, high-tech regular mechs, her "Junker" and "Scavenger" ones look like they were made from whatever parts were scavenged from the nearest scrapheap.