#your getting the much more coherent version than the one I gave my mother directly after watching it

[electric-lavender]

i must admit that turnabout intruder is one of my problematic faves too.

if you feel like elaborating, i’d love to hear your takes!!

I would absolutely love to elaborate! To preface this I’m exceptionally bad at writing out my thoughts so apologies if this is a little all over the place. Also this got way longer than I expected and I still don’t feel like I covered all my thoughts so sorry for the super long reply.

The tl;dr is that I think the episode is trying to show us, in Star Trek’s exaggerated way, that experiencing misogyny and internalizing is bad and that is the fault of the how society treats women and not, you know, women.

I’ve only seen the episode once so I think I definitely need to watch it again to fully sort out my thoughts. For some context I recently did a full tos watch, I mostly watch tng as a kid and a few random tos eps, and as I was making my way through I thought a lot about how the like for what makes something socially progressive shifts over time. There are a lot of episodes and themes that we have to look at through the culture context of the late sixties.

That being said I think one of the places tos, and basically every other show, really falls short is how it understands and represents gender. For me this is most clear in how every alien has the same understanding of sex and gender as humans but that is for a separate rant. This is about gender by way of misogyny. So without further ado here is my defense of turnabout intruder.

Before I watched turnabout intruder my understanding of it was that it was bad in the not well written way and bad in the misogynistic way. I think it’s important to know that I do not think this episode is free of misogyny, few tos episodes are, but I think if we all up on our critical thinking caps we can see that there is *gestures vaguely* something worth talking about.

When I finally watched it I was expecting it to be much more misogynistic than it was so I really psyched myself up, but I genuinely don’t think it makes it on my top three most misogynistic tos episodes. The only part that really made me cringe was when Scotty is talking to Bones about how he’s never seen Kirk so hysterical. I think that the use of the word hysterical is totally unnecessary to what Scotty is saying and only serves to make that line overtly misogynistic.

I think the thing that makes me not label Janice’s who character as just a poorly hysterical woman who’s purpose in the narrative is to remind us that women aren’t fit to lead because of emotions or whatever is that, at least to me, she seems more complex than that. The thing that leads me to believe that the writers had some idea what they were doing is how Janice clearly has the most intense case of internalized misogyny I may have ever seen.

The episode doesn’t want us to come away from it believing women aren’t fit to lead because they’re emotional. It want us to understand that misogyny is so poisonous that a lifetime of experiencing it can drive you to hate yourself so much that, in the case of Janice you would do nothing short of murder to escape it.

I was going to add a bit at the end about Kirk as a victim of abuse but I can’t organize my thoughts about that very well right now. Other people have written much more eloquent post about this, but I’ll say that the thing that stuck with me is that his masculinity is never brought into question. No one on the ship thinks less of him because a woman hurt him and I think, although it’s not the focus of the episode, it’s something that’s important to mention.

I have somehow managed to leave out all of my transgender thoughts from this so perhaps if I have the energy for that at some point I will make a part two with that.



[the-insomniac-emporium]

Mia Deserved Better: An Analysis of RE8's Themes/Symbolism

Foreword: I would like to thank @lepusrufus for posting about both Mia and Miranda, and at one point directly saying that Mia deserved better, which is a large part of what caused me to start examining her role in the canon story. Now, I will say that this post, like some of my previous explorations of Village (such as my attempt to determine Donna's age), will not be the best organized. My ADHD makes such things rather difficult for me. However, I have tried more than usual, and have broken up this "essay" into several distinct sections. Still, I am worried that my thoughts will not be as concise or coherent as they were inside my head.

Under read-more for length and spoilers for RE8: Village.

Introduction:

Village is, inarguably, about parenthood. Is it a horror game? Yes. Is it also science fiction? Also yes. But is it still, at its core, a story, and therefore contains imagery, symbolism, and themes? Yes. Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with Mia deserving better. My proposal is as follows: While Village is overall about parenthood, it is more about motherhood than fatherhood. Furthermore, Mia's background + actions from the previous game tie her story directly with Mother Miranda's, making their potential interactions massively important to the story... and could have served the theme beautifully. The missed potential in her involvement in the story is honestly a little bit absurd.

Now, let's examine each of the Four Lords + their sections, as the beginning of analyzing the game's theme.

Lady Dimitrescu + Castle:

Ah, perhaps the clearest (albeit unimportant) bits of theme within the whole game. We are immediately presented with another parent, with three daughters she loves very, very much. Initially they work as a team to capture Ethan, easily overpowering him. When they do split up, each still has dialogue regarding their family members. Each of the daughters expresses a desire to be like their mother/make their mother proud. Lady Dimitrescu herself gets very upset every time one of her daughters perishes, and delivers some important dialogue about this in her final confrontation with Ethan.

To paraphrase, Lady D says that Ethan has done something unforgiveable, caused damage that can never heal, and deserves to die before his daughter. That last part is interesting, in the sense that Lady D seems to believe that outlasting your own child is a fate so terrible that she would not wish it upon anyone, including the person who killed her daughters.

Throughout her dialogue and actions, Lady D serves as an important figure of a living mother. What do I mean by that? Well, the only other mothers we see in game are Mia and Miranda. The former doesn't show up until almost the end of the game (seeing as the "Mia" at the start is not actually the real Mia), while the latter does not have a living child, and her behavior has (presumably) changed quite a bit since that loss. As Ethan goes through Castle Dimitrescu, he watches (he causes) Lady D to go through what Miranda did all those decades ago. When we see her loss, when we experience her loss, it is something we connect with, even comparing it (as Lady D does) to Ethan's loss of Rose.

For the more visual side of symbolism, we can turn to Lady Dimitrescu herself. She is very tall, is visibly older than the majority of the Village cast, and has a fairly classic (old-school) motherly look. Everything about her reinforces her position as an example of a mother, especially when she's with her daughters and becomes such a strong figure of protection. Her height allows her to seem the caretaker for her children, even though they are scary/intimidating in their own right.

Donna Beneviento + Waterfall House:

Yes, the baby/fetus/monstrosity is part of this. No, it is not the only bit of thematic work in this section of the game.

To begin, you can find out that Donna is officially the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda. Her birth parents are dead, implied to be from especially tragic causes (more than is the norm when it comes to "orphan making"), and she has suffered greatly from it. We see that she has been seemingly neglected by Miranda, and is incredibly isolated. The tragedy of her loss, along with the consequences presented by it, are something to keep in mind further down the road, when we inevitably deal with Ethan's own death.

One of the consequences of the environment Donna was raised in is, arguably, her reliance on Angie. While interpretations of their exact relationship (aka how much control Donna actually has at any given point) vary, the two very clearly have something akin to a mother/daughter vibe. Alternatively an older sister/younger sister sort of thing. This shows in the way that Donna holds/carries Angie, as well as the contrast in their demeanors. Moreso, the fact that Donna gave a part of herself to create Angie is almost enough to make the symbolism nonnegotiable.

We also see that Donna has a strong understanding of family/family dynamics, through the way that she uses her powers to manipulate Ethan. She dissects his connections to Mia and Rose, taunts him with the lengths he's willing to go to save his child, then shows him a grotesque version of parenthood: The aforementioned fetus monster. Does the monster represent Ethan's fears, or Donna's?

What if the monster is how Donna sees herself, in some way, perhaps thinking that it's her fault her parents died? Bit of a stretch, but it's not a keystone of my theory, so I'm just throwing it out there. We could, however, go a step further and ask ourselves if Donna has noticed the way Miranda neglects her, and the fetus monster is how Donna thinks Miranda sees her. A baby, true, but grotesque, so terribly imperfect compared to her "real daughter" (Eva, obvs).

Regardless, the monster presents an ugly side of parenthood. It shows us the blood, the hunger (with the way it repeatedly attempts to swallow Ethan whole), the wailing. If Lady D shows us the love of parenthood, the bond, Donna in turn shows us the hate, the misery. Everything that one must endure to reap the rewards of family.

Lastly, we get one last bit of symbolism with Donna's death: We play a game with Angie. A childhood classic, hide and seek. Ethan chases her down repeatedly, stabbing away, seemingly only hurting the doll. But what happens when he kills Angie? It turns out that he killed Donna. You kill the child, you kill the parent. A reinforcement of the connection that comes with parenthood, along with another notch in Ethan's family-murdering belt (not saying that he's the "true antagonist" or anything, just keeping track for one of my later points).

Moreau + The Reservoir

Let's get the worst possibility out of the way: Moreau, weakest and sickest of the four lords, lives in a reservoir, where he is relatively safe. To defeat him, you have to drain the water, forcing him onto dry(ish) land. Paired with the main ideas of his section (which I will detail after this nightmare), one could theorize that he's meant to represent birth itself. Again, he's safe in his ("womb") water, and becomes vulnerable when he leaves (like a fragile newborn). Kinda gross, in my opinion, and also not a strong enough connection for me to care much about. It was merely an interesting (albeit horrifying) enough thought that I felt it warranted sharing.

Moving on to the big stuff with Moreau: He's a baby. Evidence: Whiny, has difficulty moving around, struggles to adapt to his growth, throws up a bunch, loves his mother very much, cries for his mother when he's in trouble, etc. Although Mother Miranda does not care for him, he clearly cares for her, and plays yet another role of an abandoned child (like Donna). Without Miranda there to protect him, he perishes terribly, crying out for someone who does not care to answer.

Hearing him cry out for Miranda, over and over, only for her to continue ignoring him is a key piece in the build-up to our confrontation between Ethan and Miranda. The game, in many ways, centers around the comparison between the two. In my humble opinion, Mia should have been involved in this comparison, as opposed to supplying the solution to the result of said comparison. Yes, I know that was a lot of words that don't mean much yet, but trust me, I'm getting there.

Heisenberg + The Factory

Ironically, of the four lords, Heisenberg is the most similar to Mother Miranda. In his massive factory, he is alone except for his numerous experiments, the results of decades of playing God. In comparison to Ethan + Mia, Heisenberg represents artificial parentage, or more accurately, the artificial creation of "life". While the others Lords also performed experiments, they used living subjects. Heisenberg instead chose to use corpses, which he then "brought back to life" with cybernetics + his powers, a somewhat futuristic version of Dr. Frankenstein.

Together, Miranda and him show a rotten side of parenthood (whereas Donna + Moreau showed us the uglier side of the children themselves). To put it simply, they are bad parents. They throw their "children"/experiments into the fray, uncaring, using them as pawns for their own greater gain. The most important part of this is that Heisenberg offers to "help" Ethan: By using Rose as a weapon. In his act of refusal, Ethan demonstrates one of several important distinctions between himself and Mother Miranda. Where she is willing to use her "children" (read: lives that she is responsible for) as tools, he is not.

Miscellaneous Symbolism/Imagery:

The old hag is one of my favorite parts of Village. She's seemingly nuts, has a crazy old lady laugh, wears bones that make soothing bone noises when she moves, and she draws lots of symbols in the dirt. If you look closely (I can provide screenshots if anyone desires, but it will take a bit of work to get them onto my computer), she's drawing one of the most iconic images in the titular village: The winged unborn. This symbol acts as the key you build up after every fight with a Lord, understandably called the Unborn Key (which turns into the Winged Unborn Key). Whether this counts as foreshadowing towards the hag's identity reveal is technically irrelevant, but I like to think it does.

In essence, you build up the key, this depiction of an infant, to progress in the game. The more wings it gains, the closer you are to your goal of rescuing your child.

The cadou itself is very clearly fetus-shaped. Furthermore, the only place within the human body that we know it ever gets implanted is in the "tummy" (thanks Moreau), aka roughly where someone's womb is/would be. Every infected person we see presumably had the Cadou implanted there (though I think it would be interesting if implanting it in different spots caused different mutations. of course, that is a discussion for another day). To become immortal, you have to "bear" a "child". Does it get more direct than that?

Mother Miranda gained her immortality in part for her grief at the loss of her child. She embodied the despair that Lady D spoke of, becoming an eternal source of anguish. Just as the loss of a child is a wound that lasts forever, so too would Miranda last forever (well, until Ethan comes along).

Mia is a loving mother, who puts up with the BSAA making her move across the world, deals with the complications of having a mold husband and mold baby, and has proved herself (see her section in RE7) to be an immense badass. Previously I had forgotten that, and even embarrassed myself in the comments of another person's post by implying she wasn't a tough, ass-kicking machine. Y'all remember feral Mia? People talk about "poor Ethan's arms", but sometimes we forget that Mia was one of the people who did a number on them. Furthermore, she's one of the only living people (from outside the village) to have any connections (pun intended) to Mother Miranda. They worked together, although possibly not directly, on Evelyn. If anyone in Village has a chance of really understanding Miranda's plight, or knowing the truth behind it, it would be Mia. Yet we don't see them interact a single time. Which leads me to the next section...

Conclusion On Theme + Missed Potential:

Okay, okay, so it's pretty obvious at this point that, as previously stated, the game's theme is parenthood. Every section has its symbolism, the story is very obviously about a man trying to rescue his daughter, etc, etc, but what's the point? Is there a lesson, or a more focused interpretation of the central theme? Let's take one last step back, and focus on something I've mentioned a few times now: The comparison between Ethan and Mother Miranda.

Recurring dialogue from Ethan, Alcina, and Mother Miranda all point towards the developers acknowledging that the characters are similar, but there's nowhere near as much conversation about it as I would like. Several times we have the antagonists ask Ethan how he's so willing to kill someone else's child, or prevent them from (essentially) doing what he's doing (aka saving his daughter). While Ethan responds with a mix of "well you started it" and "aghhh fuck-a-you, bitch", there's a much more solid, unspoken difference: Mother Miranda sends her underlings to kill, so that she may revive her daughter. Ethan kills (read: does the work himself) to get his daughter. The difference is much bigger, and more important, at the end of the game, when we realize just how far it goes. Ethan dies to save his daughter. Time and time again Mother Miranda has killed others for her work, but in the end she is stopped when someone willingly dies to stop her.

Where does Mia come in? Mia, the badass mother, the one who once worked alongside Mother Miranda, should have been the nail in the coffin. She is the one who survives, who lives on to raise Rose, she is the silent solution to Ethan's sacrifice. Miranda, you fool, what could you have accomplished if you had held onto your makeshift family? Through Mia (and Chris, to a lesser degree), his "loss" becomes a victory. There's a certain poetic justice that comes with Rose's full family being instrumental in saving her, when Miranda so readily spurned her own family.

Mia could have had an actual conversation with Miranda, their history giving the latter a reason to actually listen. I'm not saying that Miranda would have changed her mind/plans, but the conversation would have been a well-needed contrast to Ethan's "arggg what the fuck is happening, I only have two reactions to things. agg fuck you". Additionally, I feel that Mia (who was captured and had to endure who-knows-what) deserves the opportunity to be the one who points out Miranda's mistakes, who delivers the final "fuck you" to her. More than that, she's the one at the end who can say that hey, maybe she can understand some of what Miranda did. Was there anything her and Ethan wouldn't have done to save Rose? As much as Ethan is a foil to Miranda, Mia could (and should) have played a similar role.

When so much of the story and symbolism revolves around Miranda's experience as a mother, it only would have been fair to shine a light on her equivalent. Her better.

There's more I wanted to say/feel like I didn't properly get across, and I might add more to this at some point, but it's 5:40 AM right now, and I'm starting to feel like my brain is slowing down, so... Feel free to reblog/comment and add your own thoughts!

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable Ch 27: The Instincts (S4E6)

Warnings: kidnapping, murder of children, nightmares

Ch 26 | Ch 28

~ ~ ~

It took a few weeks of just talking. About anything and everything with each other. But Spencer was finally certain that Lydia was his other half. 

They were just so similar. It was eerie to him, because ever since he’d met her he’d thought she was everything he wasn’t: outgoing, brave, and impulsive. But in all the ways that mattered, they were exactly the same. Ambitious and moral and smart. And all his fears and anxieties couldn’t keep him from loving that about her. The good and the bad. They were perfectly matched in their passion and their stubbornness.

Eventually, Spencer had to leave for yet another case and it turned out to be far more difficult than he had foreseen. Upon boarding the jet, he’d fallen asleep, which was unusual enough as was. But he was woken up from a very strange nightmare by Rossi, who was concerned about him mumbling in his sleep.

He had almost forgotten entirely about his dream by that evening. The case they were working was a child abductor case. The unsub had kidnapped a 5-year-old boy and called the parents to torment them once or twice, before suffocating the child seven days later. They had just taken another boy, by the name of Michael Bridges.

Hotch had ordered Reid and Morgan to stay with the family that night in case they received another phone call. So Spencer and his coworker were drifting off on the couches downstairs when something caught his eye.

There was a door in the hallway parallel to the stairs. He could have sworn that hadn’t been there when they arrived, but nonetheless, he felt compelled to go check it out.

Quietly getting up, he walked over and found that the new discovery led down to a basement. As he stepped down, he reached for his gun, a sinking feeling coming over him.

The basement was for the most part empty. Directly across from the entrance was a washer and dryer, their bright white color standing out against the beige walls. And just peeking out behind the washer were two tiny feet with jeans and black tennis shoes on.

Spencer approached, but stopped short before he could see any more of the body. At the sound of footsteps, he turned and found Morgan and Rossi behind him. He didn’t for a moment question why Rossi was there.

“We couldn’t find any evidence of forced entry.”

“Why would that matter?” Spencer asked. Something was wrong. Everything about this was insanely familiar. He’d been here before. Seen this before.

“‘Cause it means he most likely knew his attacker,” Morgan argued, but at that point, Spencer had stopped listening.

There were strange lumps forming on his chest. Ripping open the front of his button down, he was horrified to find multiple leeches attached to his torso.

“Get them off me!” he shrieked. “Morgan, get them off me! Morgan!”

“Reid!” Morgan’s voice was fainter than he remembered. Morgan was right behind him, wasn’t he? “Reid! Wake up! It’s Morgan.”

Spencer’s eyes flew open and found himself back on the couch of the Bridges home, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. Morgan had turned on a nearby lamp and was hovering over him, concern filling his face.

It was the same dream he’d had on the jet. The only difference was the first time he’d woken up trying to get JJ’s unborn baby off the scene and this time, he’d woken up while covered in leeches. Reid didn’t believe in dream analysis… but why did it change?

“What the hell’s going on?” Mr. Bridges demanded, him and his wife rushing down the stairs.

“Sir, ma’am,” Morgan addressed, “everything’s okay.”

“You wake us up screaming and you think everything’s okay?”

“Look, I understand we startled you and I’m sorry for that.”

“You’re the FBI!”

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re right,” he stuttered. “You’re right. I’m, just, I’m really sorry.”

Morgan watched him for a moment, seeing his shoulders shudder up and down as he caught his breath. Then he turned back to the couple. “Sir, please, go back upstairs and try to get some rest. It was just a misunderstanding. Everything is fine, I promise you that.”

Mr. Bridges stormed off in a huff, but his wife stuck around for a moment, shuffling her feet on the steps. “Are you okay?”

“It was a dream,” he said, then gulped. “I’m really sorry.”

“Was it about Michael?”

Spencer didn’t know. He hadn’t seen any more than a small pair of black sneakers. But for her sake, he shook his head.

“I’ve been afraid to close my eyes,” she continued. “I’m scared I’ll see him die.”

He opened his mouth. The words ‘Don’t worry’ died in his throat. They weren’t true. He didn’t believe them. The chances of finding Michael were so slim. So he stood there with his mouth hanging open.

“Ma’am, I know it’s hard,” Morgan interrupted, softly. “But I need you to go upstairs and try to get some sleep…” Her eyes never left Spencer. “Please. I am sorry for the disturbance.”

Finally, she turned on her heel and left, turning off the hall light as she went.

“I’m making everything worse,” Spencer sighed.

“Reid… these cases get to all of us.”

“I’m losing it in their living room. And I’m dreaming- I’m dreaming about dead kids and being covered in leeches.”

“What the hell is scaring you?”

It took a few moments for Spencer to phrase his feelings into a coherent thought. “This boy’s going to die and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

~ ~ ~

The next day was the funeral for the first boy who’d been kidnapped. With the amount of remorse the unsub showed with his body, they figured it was likely they’d be at the funeral to show respect to the child they’d killed.

Hotch wanted Michael’s parents there as well. It was possible they’d recognize the unsub or even just be able to tell if someone was watching them. And the unsub… The unsub would definitely by watching.

After getting changed into dark clothing, Spencer went upstairs to look around Michael’s room again.

“Hey kid,” Morgan called, appearing in the door not moments later. “We’re almost ready to go.”

“You know, they’re right. Odds are we’ll catch the unsub when he dumps the body or when he tries to snatch another kid.”

“I know the odds, Reid.”

It was so negative. Spencer wasn’t normally a pessimist, but the whole situation was bullshit. It was his job to save this kid. Why couldn’t he just… just save him? “It’s weird. Some things never go away.” He stepped away from his friend to pick up something off Michael’s desk to show him. “When I was a kid, every boy I knew had piles of dinosaur toys.”

He set down the green tyrannosaurus where he found it.

“Not you?” Morgan asked knowingly.

“I had books and notebooks. My mom filled hundreds of them with poems by W.S. Erwin and songs by Bob Dylan. She liked it when I memorized them. She was convinced that they were watching us and writing songs about our lives.”

Where are you going with this? he asked himself. What is bothering you so much that you’re sitting here tossing around a six-year-old’s dinosaurs?

“Basements are the first part of a house to be built, right?” he blurted out. “So, if you’re having a recurring dream about a basement, kinda speaks to the core fundamentals of who you are as a person.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in dream analysis?”

“Freud’s been discredited, but Jung still has his merits… My dream? The dead boy? I’ve been having different versions of it since I was a little kid.”

“Hey.” Morgan made a few steps closer to him. “Have you talked to Lydia about this?”

“Why would I talk to Lydia about this?”

“Because you trust her,” Morgan insisted. “You love her a lot and I have the feeling she might be able to talk you through some of this. You know, no one would think less of you if you took a little time off to talk with her and get your head together.”

Spencer knit his eyebrows together. How would that help? It was a stupid dream anyway, wasn’t it? “I just want to find this boy,” he insisted, then stepped around Morgan and headed downstairs towards the car.

~ ~ ~

As Hotch handed the young Michael Bridges off to his family, Morgan was frustrated to see Spencer standing apart from the group, clearly lost in his own thoughts. This is what he wanted. They found Michael alive.

He wondered if it was a mistake to show him the Riley Jenkins case. Riley Jenkins had died at six, when Spencer was four, and many of the case details lined up to Spencer’s dreams: he was found in his basement, behind a washing machine, and lived in Las Vegas, very close to where Spencer lived.

“You know, this is about as good a day as we’re gonna get on this job.”

“I know,” Spencer mumbled.

“And yet you’re still thinking about a boy you’re not even sure if you really knew.”

His grimace didn’t reassure Morgan in his statement. “When I was four, my mother had a sense that I was in danger.”

“Reid, your mother wasn’t well.”

“I know facts about the case,” he argued.

“Reid, you’ve got a photographic memory. Odds are, you saw the story-- he was just a kid like you-- and it caught your imagination.”

“I don’t really think that you believe that.”

Profilers. He should know better than to lie to Reid. “You want to know what I really believe?” he mended. “I believe you could have done anything in this world with your life, and you chose to do this job. Your man Carl Jung says our unconscious is the key to our life’s pursuits.”

It took Spencer a moment to confirm that what Morgan said was correct. “Yeah… Yeah.”

“So, for whatever reason, that case was stuck in your brain all these years, and it not only led you to this career choice but to the same city where your mother lives, and for us to have the opportunity to save this child.”

It finally seemed like he was breaking through. Spencer gave him the smallest smile. But Derek knew that he wasn’t going to really get through to him. That’s why he had a backup plan.

“Like I said, this is probably as good a day as we’re gonna get, man. Enjoy your moment.”

Hotch appeared from around Morgan’s shoulder to join their group and Spencer seemed to think of something. “Hey, Hotch? Do you think it would be possible to wait until tomorrow to return home?”

Hotch looked down as if contemplating, then turned to Morgan. “Do you think you could find something to do in Vegas for the night?”

Derek didn’t try to stop the grin that was spreading across his face. Hotch knew that no one on the team would argue about a night off in Vegas. Especially not him. So the two of them wandered off, but as they left, Derek could tell Spencer was still thinking about Riley Jenkins.

Alright, plan B then… 

Hotch gave him a questioning look as he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number, but Morgan didn’t care. The whole team could listen for all he cared, if it meant Spencer got out of this slump.

“Hello?”

“Lydia? When was the last time you spoke with Spencer?”

“Uh… he sent me a goodnight text last night? But that’s been our only communication while he’s been in Vegas. Why?”

“I think you should give him a call and ask about his nightmares.”

“He hasn’t told me about any nightmares…”

“I know. But he’s woken up shouting twice on this case so far. He told me about it, but I just can’t seem to help.”

“How do you propose I bring it up to him?”

“You can tell him I told you. He’s gonna know I interfered either way.”

“Okay… Thanks, Derek.”

“Good luck, kiddo.”

Tags: @kris-stuff​, @wooya1224​, @bispences​, @anotherr-fine-mess​, @eddysocs​

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm 2.4 - In which Emma and her friends are utter monsters

“Nobody likes her.  Nobody wants her here,” Julia said.

“Such a loser.  She didn’t even turn in the major project for art, last Friday,” Sophia responded.

“If she’s not going to try, then why is she even coming to school?”

Ooh goodie! This chapter is already starting out fucked!

Despite the way the conversation sounded, they were talking to me.  They were just pretending to talk to one another.  It was both calculating in how they were managing plausible deniability while at the same time they were acting totally juvenile by pretending I wasn’t there.  A blend of immaturity mixed with craftiness in a way only high schoolers could manage.  I would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it, if it hadn’t been at my expense.

Wildbow captures the malignant pettiness of high school bullying so well. This is already making me mad with how ..real it is. The crude but effective phychological abuse.

The moment I had left the classroom, Emma, Madison and Sophia had crowded me into a corner, with another six girls backing them up.  I was unable to squeeze past them without getting pushed or elbowed back, so I couldn’t do much more than lean against the window, listening while eight of the girls were rattling off an endless series of taunts and jibes.  Before one girl was even finished, another started up.  All the while, Emma stayed back and stayed quiet, the slightest of smiles on her face.  I couldn’t meet the eyes of any of the other girls without them barking a fresh torrent of insults directly to my face, so I just glared at Emma.

I bet Emma is just relishing in all the social power she has here, letting her minions do everything for her and just looking amused at Taylor’s expense

Social hierarchy is such a cancerous thing in high school.

“Ugliest girl in our grade.”

They were barely thinking about what they were saying and a lot of the insults were wildly off the mark or contradictory.  One would say I was a slut, for example, then another might say a guy would puke before he touched me.  The point wasn’t being witty, being smart or being on target.  It was more about delivering the feeling behind the words over and over, hammering it in.  If I’d had just a moment to butt in, maybe I could have come up with retorts.  If I could just kill their momentum, they probably wouldn’t get back into the easy rhythm again.  That said, I couldn’t find the words, and there weren’t any openings in the conversation where I wouldn’t just be talked over.

They are taking the approach of trying to land as many hits as possible, without even bothering for coherency or effectiveness. Just a nice way for them to say to her how much they fucking loathe her.

Lovely

While this particular tactic was new to me, I’d been putting up with stuff like this for a year and a half, now.  At a certain point, I’d come to the conclusion that it was easier to sit back and take it, when it came to most things.  They wanted me to fight back, because everything was stacked in their favor.  If I stood up for myself and they still ‘won’, then it only served to feed their egos.  If I came out ahead in some way, then they got more persistent and mean for the next time.  So for much the same reason I hadn’t fought Madison for the homework she had taken from me, I just leaned against the wall next to the window and waited for them to get bored with their game or get hungry enough to leave and go have their lunches.

Ugghghghghghghg

The whole situation is just horrible. If she fights back they would call her crazy or dangerous or pathetic and they will intensify their abuse. But just taking it like this can’t be good for her psyche, with all the constant and relentless aggresion.

“What does she use to wash her face?  A Brillo pad?”

“She should!  She’d look better!”

“Never talks to anybody.  Maybe she knows she sounds like a retard and keeps her mouth shut.”

“No, she’s not that smart.”

No more than three feet behind Emma, I could see Mr. Gladly leaving his classroom.  The tirade didn’t stop as I watched him tuck a stack of folders under one arm, find his keys and lock the door.

“If I were her, I’d kill myself,” one of the girls announced.

Mr. Gladly turned to look me in the eyes.

First off, that kys comment made me considerably even more disgusted

Second, Mr Gladly, you can see it happening, right now! Please do something! Even if it is just breaking this up with your presence.

“So glad we don’t have gym with her.  Can you imagine seeing her in the locker room?  Gag me with a spoon.”

I don’t know what expression I had on my face, but I know I didn’t look happy.  No less than five minutes ago, Mr. Gladly had been trying to convince me to go with him to the office and tell the principal about the bullying.  I watched him as he gave me a sad look, shifted the file folders to his free hand and then walked away.

GLADLY YOU INCREDIBLE PIECE OF SHIT

Way to prove how ineffective the school system would be, with just a single action

Most friendly and approachable teacher? More like most utterly spineless coward

I was stunned.  I just couldn’t wrap my head around how he could just ignore this.  When he had been trying to help me, had he just been covering his own ass, doing what was required of him in the face of a situation he couldn’t ignore?  Had he just given up on me?  After trying to help, in his own completely ineffective way, after I turned his offer for help down twice, he just decided I just wasn’t worth the effort?

I really hope Gladly isn’t just rationalizing this as being fine because Taylor refused his help. Because that ISNT HOW THAT WORKS

YOU’RE A GROWN-ASS ADULT, YOU SHOULD KNOW NOT TO LIMPLY WALK AWAY FROM A GROUP OF STUDENTS ABUSING ANOTHER STUDENT TO THE POINT OF CALLING FOR HER SUICIDE. EVEN IF SHE REFUSES YOUR HELP, IT IS YOUR DUTY AS HER TEACHER AND AS A FUCKING HUMAN BEING

“You should have seen her group fail in class just now.  It was painful to watch.”

OH AND YOU ALL CAN ALSO GO TO HELL WITH THE ASSIGNMENT BULLSHIT

I clenched my fist, then forced myself to relax it.  If we were all guys, this scenario would be totally different.  I was in the best shape of my life.  I could have swung a few punches from the very start, caused a bloody nose or two, maybe.  I know I would have lost the fight in the end, getting shoved to the ground by force of numbers and kicked while I was down, but things would have ended there, instead of dragging on like they were here.  I’d hurt physically for days afterwards, but I’d at least have had the satisfaction of knowing some of the others were hurting too, and I wouldn’t have to sit through this barrage of insults.  If there was enough damage done, the school would have to take notice, and they wouldn’t be able to ignore the circumstances of a one-against-nine fight.  Violence gets attention.

But things didn’t work that way here.  Girls played dirty.  If I decked Emma, she would run to the office with some fabricated story, her friends backing up her version of events.  For most, ratting to the faculty was social suicide, but Emma was more or less top dog.  If she went to the principal, people would only take things more seriously.  By the time I got back to school, they would have spread the story through the grapevine in a way that made me look like a total psycho.  Things would get worse.  Emma would be seen as the victim and girls who had previously ignored the bullying would join in on Emma’s behalf.

One of the reasons why psychological abuse is so much more insidious than phisical abuse in  many cases. It is so much harder to fight against.

“And she smells,” one girl said, lamely.

“Like expired grape and orange juice,” Madison cut in with a little laugh.  Again, bringing up the juice?  I suspected that one had been her idea.

Madison, fuck off

It seemed like they were running out of steam.  I figured it was just a minute or two before they got bored and walked away.

It seemed Emma got the same impression, because she stepped forward.  The group parted to give her room.

“What’s the matter, Taylor?”  Emma said, “You look upset.”

Emma, fuck off

Her words didn’t seem to fit the situation.  I had maintained my composure for however long they had been at it.  What I’d been feeling was more a mixture of frustration and boredom than anything else.  I opened my mouth to say something.  A graceless “Fuck you” would have sufficed.

That Taylor is so jaded that this doesn’t even affect her that much is so fucking depressing

“So upset you’re going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?” she asked.

My words died in my throat as I processed her words.

.....You just pulled some psychological bullshit didn’t you?

Almost a year before we had started high school, I had been at her house, the both of us eating breakfast and playing music way too loud. Emma’s older sister had come downstairs with the phone.  We’d turned down the music, and my dad had been on the other end, waiting to tell me in a broken voice that my mom had died in a car accident

....Oh no. No no no no

I see what Emma might have just done and it is fucking evil

And this confirms that her mom died instead of her and Danny just breaking up...Fuck

Emma’s sister had given me a ride to my place, and I bawled the entire way there.  I remember Emma crying too, out of sympathy, maybe.  It could have been the fact that she thought my mom was the coolest adult in the world.  Or perhaps it was because we really were best friends and she had no idea how to help me.

....What happened to you Emma? What made you so fucked up? How did you change so much. You cried about her mom, you were or at least seemed decent once!

I didn’t want to think about the month that had followed, but fragments came to mind without my asking.  I could remember overhearing my dad berating my mother’s body, because she’d been texting while driving, and she was the only one to blame.  At one point, I barely ate for five straight days, because my dad was such a wreck that I wasn’t on his radar. I’d eventually turned to Emma for help, asking to eat at her place for a few days.  I think Emma’s mom figured things out, and gave my dad a talking to, because he started pulling things together.  We’d established our routine, so we wouldn’t fall apart as a family again.

Knowing Danny he probably blamed himself more than he blamed her. And he shutting down like that... oh god.

And the fact that Emma was a shining light in all this is just so... twisted

Now Taylor doesn’t even have the moments of respite and support from that anymore. When Emma betrayed her, she betrayed her completely and utterly. These memories are retroactively tainted because of her

It was a month after my mom had died that Emma and I had found ourselves sitting on the bridge of a kid’s play structure in the park, our rear ends cold from the damp wood, sipping coffee we’d bought from the Donut Hole.  We didn’t have anything to do, so we had just been walking around and talking about whatever.  Our wandering had taken us to the playground, and we were resting our heels.

“You know, I admire you,” she had said, abruptly.

This sad and beautifully bitterweet memory, absolutely corrupted

“Why?” I had responded, completely mystified about the fact that someone gorgeous and amazing and popular like her could find something to admire in me.

“You’re so resilient.  After your mom died, you were totally in pieces, but you’re so together after a month.  I couldn’t do that.”

Past Emma makes me rage and fucking cry.

She honesly seemed like a good friend and isn’t that terrifying? That a close friend, a trusted friend, could backstab you like that?

I could remember my admission, “I’m not resilient.  I can hold it together during the day, but I’ve cried myself to sleep for a straight week.”

That had been enough to open the floodgates, right there.  She gave me her shoulder to cry on, and our coffee was cold before I was done.

AND THERE IT FUCKING IS

Emma you fucking monster

How dare you

Now, as I gaped at Emma, wordless, her smile widened.  She remembered what I had said, then.  She knew the memories it would evoke.  At some point, that recollection had crossed her mind, and she had decided to weaponize it.  She’d been waiting to drop it on me.

You’re so fucking repulsive

Fuck me, it worked.  I felt the trail of a tear on my cheek.  My power roared at the edges of my consciousness, buzzing, pressuring me. I suppressed it.

“She is!  She’s crying!”  Madison laughed.

Angry at myself, I rubbed my hand over my cheek to brush the tear away.  More were already welling up, ready to take its place.

“It’s like you have a superpower, Emma!” one of the girls tittered.

You all better be thankful you’re not bug food at this point

I had taken off my backpack so I could lean against the wall.  I reached to pick it up, but before I could, a foot hooked through the strap and dragged it away from me. I looked up and saw the owner of the foot – dark skinned, willowy Sophia – smirking at me.

“Oh em gee!  What’s she doing?” one of the girls said.

Sophia was leaning against the wall, one foot casually resting on top of my backpack.  I didn’t think it was worth fighting her over, if it gave her an opportunity to continue her game of keep-away.  I left the bag where it was and shoved my way through the gathered girls, bumping an onlooker with my shoulder hard enough to make him stumble.  I ran into the stairwell and out the doors on the ground floor.

Ok Sophia you can go die as well.

What an absolutely horrible group of people, holy shit.

I fled.  I didn’t check, but chances were they were watching from the window at the end of the hallway.  It didn’t really matter.  The fact that I had just promised to pay thirty five bucks of my own money for a World Issues textbook to replace the one that had been soaked with grape juice wasn’t my top concern.  Even if it was pretty much all the money I had left after buying the pieces for my costume.  My art midterm was in my bag as well, newly repaired.  I knew I wouldn’t get any of it back in one piece, if at all.

God this feels so hopeless.

The school is watching this and seeing how it’s making her miss classes and violate deadlines and they do nothing

No, my primary concern was getting out of there.  I wasn’t going to break the promise I had made to myself.  No using powers on them.  That was the line I wasn’t crossing.  Even if I did something utterly innocuous, like give them all lice, I didn’t trust myself to stop there.  I didn’t trust myself to keep from offering blatant hints that I had powers or spoiling my secret identity just to see the looks on their faces when they realized the girl they had been tormenting was a bona-fide superhero.  It was something I couldn’t help but daydream about, but I knew the long term ramifications would spoil that.

That is a sweet revenge fantasy, but yeah, compromising your secret identity isn’t worth it. There’s already a crazy dragon who wants you dead if he ever escapes

Perhaps most important, I rationalized, was keeping the two worlds separate.  What use was escapism, if the world I was escaping to was muddled with the people and things I was trying to avoid?

I feel you there, Taylor.

Even without any problems like you have, I would cringe if my different worlds (university, family, friends, online...) collided

Before the thought of going back to school had even crossed my mind, I found myself wondering what I was going to do to fill my afternoon.

...You’re totally going to consider TT’s proposal right now, aren’t you?