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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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To Fear Or Not To Fear, That Is The Question PT. 1

Lantern!Reader x Lanternfamily

Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of PTSD

Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago, but this ask made me post it! I'll get part two out sometime later! Enjoy! -Thorne

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She gripped the arm rests of her chair until her knuckles started to whiten, her heart pounded in her chest, so harshly against her rib cage that it began to hurt. The flashes spread across her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe as the mantra, “You’re home” flowed through her lips, though it didn’t quell the violent shaking in her body.

Their faces darted through her mind, expressions frozen in mixtures of shock, pain, and fear. She could feel herself slipping back there, could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her body, the sliding of her limbs in the burning desert sand, the splattering of hot blood from her teammates wounds, the smell of gunmetal and oil, of sweat—it was all coming back again, so fast, and all she could do was hold on and force herself to ground.

She had no idea what had set off the attack, but she did know that she was able to turn the lights off and sit down before it immobilized her with tremors. Clenching her hands into fists, she forced herself to bend over, pressing her forehead to her knees.

You’re home, (Y/N). You’re not in Afghanistan anymore. You’re alive. You’re here. The memories are there, but you’re not. Relax. Focus. Keep it together. Don’t give in. Hold—

An explosion rocked the side of the house, sending her to the floor and she gasped, automatically covering her head, waiting for the impact of mortar rounds and grenades. Another explosion sounded, followed by a bellow, and (Y/N) lifted her head up, crawling on al fours to the window. Gripping the window ledge, she pulled herself up and peeked over, eyes widening at the sight of two glowing figures throwing punches back and forth.

One of them was covered in a green glow, the other an angry red. She held the ledge and watched as the red one socked the other in the chest and they hit the ground, holding out their arms to protect themselves. The attacker lifted their hands and to her shock, a crimson block appeared above them. In an instant, she knew who the enemy was.

Her eyes darted to the lock box sitting on the shelf and forcing herself to get up, she ran to it, yanking it open and grabbing the contents. She sprinted to the door and shoved the clip into the 357 Magnum, pulling back the slide before flipping the safety off. (Y/N) slung the door open and ran down the front steps, kneeling in the grass as she raised the gun and closed one eye, taking sight of the target before her. With an intake of breath, she unloaded all nine rounds into the back of the glowing red person.

She wasn’t sure if it took them down because they started spurting more of the acid like blood, but it was the opening that the person below them needed, because the next thing (Y/N) knew, a flash of green sent the bellowing red enemy sky-high and out of sight.

Her arms suddenly felt weak, and she let them go slack, the Magnum landing by her hip. A groan sounded from the person in green and she stumbled to her feet, hurrying on weak knees to them.

They were laying in the grass, and when she got there, her jaw went slack when she saw their legs blown off a few feet away. (Y/N) went to her knees, already yanking her sweatshirt off, starting to tie tourniquets around the amputated appendages.

“Hey,” she breathed when they groaned. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m here to help.”

They opened their eyes and she blinked at how bright and green they were. “It is too late.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No. I’ll help you.” She swallowed the urge to vomit as the blue blood started soaking through her sweatshirt and on her hands. “You’re going to be okay.”

They reached out and grabbed her arm. “You must take my place.”

“I—what?” she asked, tying the knots tighter. “You need to get to a hospital. You’re bleeding out.”

“I have been bleeding out.” They laughed, blood splattering their chin. “Atrocitus’ minion has chased me long through the stars.”

“Atrocitus? Who?” (Y/N) shook her head. “Look, we need to get you help.”

“Your human healers cannot help me. I am at my end.” They squeezed her wrist. “You must take my place amongst the Green Lanterns. If the ring is left alone, someone could corrupt it.”

(Y/N) stared at them. “Rings? What?”

They raised their hand free hand and she saw a black band, a glowing green symbol in the center—she recognized the symbol; the Green Lantern in the Justice League wore it. Slipping it off, they handed it to her.

“Find the Four Corpsmen in this city. They will help you.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No. Right now, I need to help you.” Her eyes hardened. “I don’t know anything about alien physiology, but I will save you.”

Their eyes narrowed fondly, and they whispered, “I can see the fear you hold in your heart…that you could not save the ones you were supposed to protect from your enemies.” They swallowed, coughing harshly. “You can overcome this fear.” Holding out the ring again, they said, “The ring will guide you to the Four Corpsmen.”

She took the ring, flipping it over in her hand, and she caught sight of a dim green inscription. Squinting, (Y/N) read, “In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might, beware my power—Green Lantern's light.”

The green ring suddenly moved on its own, sliding onto her finger and an otherworldly voice commanded, (Y/N) (L/N) of Earth. You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps.

A warmth washed over her body, and she watched in shock as her clothes were replaced with a skintight black and green suit, but it didn’t feel restricting. It felt comfortable—it made her feel safe. A mask flashed across her eyes and when she looked down at the alien, their eyes had glazed over, mouth frozen in a smile.

(Y/N) felt her heart tighten and she breathed out, reaching over, gently closing their eyes. She stood from the body and wandered behind the house, returning with a shovel. It didn’t take long to dig out the hole and she was surprised that she wasn’t tired from the exertion as she lowered the body into it, before covering them with dirt and standing over the grave, her hands clasped together.

Wherever you’ve ended up, friend…I hope you’re at peace. She opened her eyes, a firm look in them. I’ll continue your mission.

She looked down at the ring on her finger, then up at the bright city in the distance. Gotta go into the city. (Y/N) turned and walked into the house, climbing the steps to her bedroom. Glancing down at the ring, she said, “Okay, ring. You gotta power down so I can change my clothes.”

Nothing happened and her brows furrowed.

“Power down?” Again nothing, and a bolt of irritation struck a nerve, and she clenched her fist, commanding, “Power down. Now.” The suit on her body faded and she sighed in relief. “Okay, so commands work.” (Y/N) moved into the shower. “Clean up first, then get dressed and leave.”

***

She kept to the back alleys of the city, which, given that it was nine o’clock, most of them were empty, still, she didn’t want to find trouble before she found the…what had the alien called them? Four Corpsmen?

(Y/N) shook er head and looked down at the ring on her finger. It hadn’t lit up again since she told it to stop. “Ring! Uh…show me where the Four Corpsmen are!”

The symbol in the middle lit up and a started making flashes, and in a panic, she shouted, “Do it inconspicuously!” A small green line slide along the ground and she smiled. “That’s better.”

Following it, she sprinted through the back streets until she came to a bar; she rolled her eyes. “Of course, they’re in a bar. What men.”

(Y/N) followed the line into the bar and when it disappeared, she blinked, looking around for whoever could fit the description of supposed Corpsmen. There were a few guys at the bar, a few playing pool, some at booths and tables…she had no idea who could possibly be who she was looking for.

Someone brushed past her with a small, “Excuse me, sweetheart.” Another dart of green appeared in her vision, and she saw it attached to his back as he flowed through the bar and to the back where a trio of young men were sitting. They cheered when he got back and he smiled, passing out four beers.

“Them?” she murmured to herself and before she could move, someone had her around the waist.

“Hey, babe. Lookin’ for company?”

(Y/N)’s face pinched, and she shrugged away from them. “No thanks. I’m not here for fun.”

“Now don’t be like that.” The guy reached for her and before he knew it, he found himself being slammed face first into a wooden post, collapsing down onto his back, out cold.

She happened to look up just as his friends were coming over from the pool table and she rolled her eyes, already lifting her hands, ready for a fight. Two came at her and she swiped a beer mug from a server, sloshing the beer in one’s face before she sidestepped, slamming the glass into the second’s head. (Y/N) flowed into the next step and threw her elbow out into the first’s throat. They both fell to the ground, and she tossed the handle aside, but before she could do anything, someone had her around the waist, hauling her up then slamming her down to the ground.

(Y/N) grunted as she lost her bearings, and somewhere over the noise and music of the bar, she heard more shouting, but she paid it no mind, scrambling to her feet when one of them shoved her backwards.

Someone caught her, shoving her back up, shouting, “Get your head in the game, lady! We got some assholes to lay flat!” Four men passed her, already throwing punches and spurred on, she threw herself back in the fight.

Within seconds, the bar fight was over, and she panted as the four guys leaned against the bar, all laughing, each picking up a beer mug to drink from. (Y/N) felt a bit worn and someone laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you good?”

She looked up at the man who had short cropped, ginger hair and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Glancing at the others, she said, “Thanks for the assist.”

One of them held out a hand. “You fight like a soldier.”

“Former special ops. Navy corpsman.” She replied, eyeing the dog tags around his neck as she shook his hand firmly. “Sergeant.”

“John,” he corrected with a smile, then gestured to his friends. “That’s Guy, Kyle, and Hal.”

(Y/N) shook their hands too. “Name’s (Y/N).”

One of them, Kyle, handed her a beer. “So, what brought you to the bar besides the bar-fight?”

She gazed into the liquid. “Uh…I’m looking for someone…multiple people actually.” Her eyes fell on them again. “But in the haze of the fight, I lost sight of whoever it was.”

Hal sent her a wink. “We’d be glad to help out a beautiful lady like yourself.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but since she didn’t have a better option, she murmured, “I’m looking for some men who are known as the ‘Four Corpsmen’.”

Immediately the mood shifted as their friendly faces dropped, all solemn as they looked at her. “Where did you hear that name?” John questioned and she met his gaze.

“I’m taking from the seriousness that you’re who I’m looking for then.” (Y/N) held out her hand. “The alien said you could help me with this…I don’t know how to work it.”

They all glanced down at her hand, well, the ring on her hand, eyes widening at the sight; Hal grabbed her wrist. “Where did you get this?”

“The alien. It was being attacked by something in red and I…” she looked away. “I shot it, but the alien, it…I couldn’t save it. Its wounds were too severe.” (Y/N) yanked her hand back, clenching it into a fist. “It told me to take its place amongst the Green Lanterns. To overcome my fear.” Swallowing thickly, she admitted, “I don’t how to do that…but it said you four could help me with it.”

She could tell the were mulling it over, quite possibly communicating with one another by the way they seemed to shoot each other looks, and she cracked a smile at how Guy cocked a brow and then gestured to her whilst looking at Kyle like he was an idiot.

But (Y/N) grew tired of their mental conversation and yanked the beer mug from Guy’s hand, ignoring his shout, and she down it before slamming it on the bar. “Look, I don’t what I’m supposed to do with this, and if I’m left to my own devices, I’ll probably do more damage than I would help people.” She stared them down. “Even if you don’t want to, help me so I don’t get innocent people killed.”

For a moment, they all looked at each other, then Guy reached over and pulled her around the neck, smirking at them. “I think she’s going to do great things with us, boys.”

Kyle winced. “Guy, maybe don’t put your arm around the woman who was former special forces?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry…I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 280: I Am Red Riot

Previously on BnHA: The pro heroes over at Gunga Mountain struggled against Gigantomachia and the League until finally Midnight was all, “fuck it, let’s just put the kids in charge.” Momo immediately got to work organizing a sophisticated counteroffensive involving an exploding swamp, a bunch of sedative cans, and a massive coordinated team attack. I gotta tell you guys, it’s really something to watch a large-scale group attack in which all of the team members are actually competent. I don’t know what Japan put in the water when all these sixteen-year-olds were growing up, but that shit has paid off big time, and basically the only reason Machia hasn’t gone down yet is because he cheated and was all “sneeze” and the kids all got blown away because they are little and because he is really, really big. Anyway so then Dabi set the forest on fire because he loves doing that, and the chapter ended with Mina using her Acid Man attack to make herself FUCKIN’ FIREPROOF so she could charge through the woods ready to save the day and stuff!

Today on BnHA: Mina launches herself straight at Machia like the beautiful corrosive wild child she is, but then everything goes to shit when she recognizes him from that one time she almost got murdered while giving a strange man directions. Just when it’s looking like she might get killed for real this time, KIRISHIMA SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY AND SHOVES HER TO SAFETY AND IS ALL “BOTTOMS UP” AND HEAVES A LITERAL CAN OF WHOOPASS RIGHT IN MACHIA’S MOUTH. At this point the grown-ups are all “oh wow look at that, time for us to take over for you kids now, don’t worry we’ve got it all under control” because Oh Those Wacky Pros and all that, but at least Majestic finally deigns to show his face so that’s a plus! The chapter ends with us cutting back to the Jakku battle, where Tomura is curled up in a little ball all “curse you heroes, how dare you [checks notes] save people all the time”, which is a real take and a half. Anyway so things are looking up, which can only mean everyone is about to die. That’s how it works, right. Shit.

HOLY SHIT LOL

THIS IS MINA. SHE’S REALLY COOL AND SHE CAN MELT PEOPLE. um, the hell kind of tagline is that?? holy fucking shit?? “melt and succumb”?? IS THE SUCCUMB PART REALLY NECESSARY. IS THAT NOT ALREADY IMPLIED. it’s like saying “die and then perish”, which actually sounds really badass and I’m about to make it my new go-to threat actually so you know what never mind. where the fuck were we anyway

“IS EVERYONE SAFE” some absurdly bad-at-gauging-situations kid from class B is yelling while the forest is on fire and all the kids are recovering from having been catapulted fifty miles by King Dodongo’s windy yeet breath. of course they are safe, sweet child. of course everyone is absolutely fine, why the fuck would they possibly not be safe after something like that

KAMINARI NOOO MY POOR SWEET BABY

AT LEAST HE’S STILL CONSCIOUS ENOUGH TO MAKE STUPID JOKES. holy shit this baby got concussed to hell and back and then Machia turned him and the others into precipitation and he wasn’t in any kind of state to even try to land safely, I hope to god someone caught him

Sero is all “is there anyone still in range!” and damn, I like that he’s taking charge and trying to regain their momentum. he is so criminally underrated. I feel like he’s in the top six or seven of class 1-A kids who I would most trust to take charge. which is very high praise because that class has a lot of charge-taking kids

SPEAKING OF

it “probably” can’t get through her acid, she says. my god. sometimes the spirit of Plus Ultra just takes ahold of these kids and it’s like, I want to ruffle their hair proudly and then grab them by the shoulders and shake them vigorously because WHERE EVEN IS YOUR SELF-PRESERVATION WHY DO NONE OF YOU HAVE IT GODDAMMIT AIZAWA REALLY SHOULD HAVE EXPELLED YOU GUYS AFTER ALL

man. and yet I really do love this “be the one who can do it” stuff. what a heroic fucking attitude dfjfklks. I’ll just go put on my humongous sandwich board that reads GIANT FUCKING HYPOCRITE and go stand in the corner

damn it this week’s scan is annoyingly dark, it’s really hard to tell what’s going on but it looks like the pros are attacking Machia and the League at long last. way to go guys it only took you seven years but you finally hopped to it

MINA WHY IS THE ACID COMING OFF OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. PUT IT BACK!!!

I KNOW SHE’S NOT GONNA DIE DAMMIT BUT AHHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH

okay what the hell is up with these weird zen proverbs though

“your fear stricken heart”, “the shortest path”, what the fuck even is this. whose thoughts are these. normally these translations are honestly decent enough but I gotta say this time around I’m totally being thrown for a loop lmao

(ETA: FYI I’m only just now realizing that he was saying the shortest path to Master, as in Tomura, not “master” as in to master something fjkldjskf lol some delayed reading comprehension there. so basically he’s just bitching about how annoying these little “flies” are proving to be.)

JESUS CHRIST

okay is it just me, or is Gigantomachia suddenly showing intelligence in his eyes instead of mindless animal instinct the single most pants-shitting thing you’ve ever seen?!! holy shit. the way he just LOOKS at her out of nowhere all of a sudden?? holy fucking shit DO NOT HURT MT. LADY OH MY GOD I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. AND DON’T YOU DARE HURT MINA EITHER!! JUST FUCKING DIE AND PERISH

but also though, is that recognition in Mina’s eyes?? because even though this dude is 80 feet tall now, her encounter with him a couple years back had to have been one of the more memorable experiences of her young life. damn I was wondering when this would finally come into play

OKAY YES THE NEXT PAGE IS A FLASHBACK OH SHIT

this has nothing to do with anything but Mina just has the prettiest hair, btw, and this “just woke up covered in acid” look is a particularly good one on her. it looks so soft and fluffy, like damn. this is like Shouto-hair-billowing-in-the-wind levels of pretty here

NOOOOO

oh my god holy shit?! putting her back in the school uniform to show the slip in her mentality is a PUNK MOVE, HORIKOSHI, and I respect the shit out of you for it you manipulative bastard. goddammit. bracing myself for the incoming wave of Mina feels... here they come... they’re a lot... let’s see if I can latch on to anything I can actually figure out how to describe in words

okay well here’s one, my respect for Mina’s bravery just went up like a thousand percent in this instant, because now we know this was actually such a traumatizing event for her that hearing Machia’s voice again years later immediately sent her into a full-blown flashback. she was that scared and yet she still stood up to him and didn’t hesitate. and now I’m remembering how her knees just buckled right afterwards, and just...

and this visual, though!! what a brutally effective way to show that in her mind she went right back to being that scared middle schooler again for a moment. god fucking damn. holy shit you guys is Kirishima fireproof because if he comes waltzing out of the woods next I don’t even know what I’m gonna do. lolo kids getting traumatized left and right this arc is fucking merciless

um eXCUSE ME!?!?!

YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT LET GO OF HER RIGHT NOW OR I AM GONNA LOSE IT!!

THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!

holy shit he could have fucking snapped her neck like that??! I don’t like this at ALL WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY SERIOUSLY

I’M GONNA NEED ANOTHER KID TO STEP IN HERE WITH A LAST MINUTE SAVE LIKE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, OR I AM GOING TO THROW MY COMPUTER OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND MOVE TO THE DESERT AND BECOME A HERMIT AND NEVER READ MANGA ON THE INTERNET AGAIN

OH THANK GOD

TODAY WE SPELL “REDEMPTION” K-I-R-I... ETC. THERE’S A LOT OF LETTERS BUT YOU GET THE DRIFT!!!

holy fucking shit y’all. I mean, it’s not like it came out of nowhere, like the setup could not have been more obvious, but let me assure you that none of the predictability lessened the actual impact of this moment in the SLIGHTEST. Horikoshi really wrote a flashback scene one hundred and thirty five chapters ago and planted it, watered it once a day, and patiently waited for THREE LONG YEARS until he could finally harvest the badass fruits of his labor in the midst of his most epic arc to date. I’m so fucking hyped I’ll even forgive him for sacrificing Mina’s big moment and having her get rescued, because it’s such a good reversal. he didn’t freeze up this time. he promised himself he’d never freeze again and he didn’t and he saved her and god fucking damn. anyways so now Machia is going to treat him like a fucking action figure though but he’s a solid little dude he can take it hopefully

NO WHAT IS THIS!!! STOP KILLING MY MOOD!!!

she better not be dead!! SHE BETTER NOT FUCKING BE DEAD I WILL RUN MY PC THROUGH A PAPER SHREDDER AND GO AND LIVE ALONE WITH MY FEELS ON A MOUNTAIN IN TIBET

CHINTETSU!!

well we know he’s fireproof. another callback at the least expected of times lmao

so Tetsu’s all “yeah Kirishima’s not really all that fireproof but he totally ran over here anyway to save you. oh wait that probably wasn’t very comforting of me to say.” maybe that’s why it seems like he might not have actually said it out loud, now that I’m reading this over again. good call Tetsu

ARE YOU STANDING UP AND CASUALLY STRETCHING OUT YOUR BACK

I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE HOW MUCH I HATE THIS GUY RIGHT NOW. WE’RE REACHING LEVELS OF HATRED RESERVED FOR NAZIS AND PEOPLE WHO WALK TOO SLOWLY IN FRONT OF ME IN A GROUP SHOULDER TO SHOULDER INSTEAD OF SINGLE FILE SO I CAN PASS IN FRONT OF THEM. YOU’RE A FUCKING TOURIST IN NYC YOU PIECE OF SHIT

lmao he’s just dropping this random hero person and letting him fall to his doom wheeeeee

remind me to leave all of the League of Villains’ texts on read for the foreseeable future. goddamn. I still love you guys but also, fuck you so damn hard

OHO A LIL RED SCALY BOI ISN’T DONE YET!!

real talk, just between you and me, I’ll lower my voice so that Kirishima can’t hear. so uh. we all agree that even if Kiri is fireproof and squishproof, that little can of tranquilizer juice technically shouldn’t have been, right? but we’re all going to hush and pretend like it was anyway for the sake of not spoiling his big moment. even though I am crossing my arms and tapping my chin with my finger while doubtfully glancing to the side

anyway here he goes!

YEAH KIRI GO GETTIM [stage whisper] there it is, in his pocket. should’ve burned. we won’t discuss it

OH FOR FUCK’S

TOGA YOU LITTLE WIENER BUT WHAT’S THIS ABOUT “MY HALF” NOW????

DID HE GRAB MINA’S MID-AIR?? IS HE REALLY REACHING INTO HIS BACK POCKET AND FUCKING UNZIPPING IT RIGHT NOW WHILE HOLDING ON TO NOTHING AND PRESUMABLY FALLING THROUGH THE AIR. DID A LITTLE BIT OF OCHAKO’S QUIRK RUB OFF ON YOU OR WHAT

OH SNAP SON HE REALLY DID THE THING HOLY SHIT???

AND TOKAGE FLEW OVER AND SAVED HIM AND NOW TANKS ARE SHOOTING AT MACHIA, LMAO WHAT IS THIS. MOMO HOW MANY GUNS DID YOU MAKE

Shouji standing there trying to be useful any way he can. are eyeballs really that much more effective if you make them the size of tennis balls and hold them up above your head. legit question, I don’t really know how eyes work

okay after 45 seconds of googling this my impression is that no, they are not. well good on you for giving it the old college try anyway though Shouji

oH MY GODLKDLK?!?!

DID SHE SAY WHAT I THOUGHT SHE SAID, DID SHE SAY MAJESTIC, ARE WE GONNA SEE MASJKESLTKCI DSFLKJL

oh my god he really is the Magic Man dude??? TIME TO DUST OFF MY INVENTORY OF ADVENTURE TIME QUOTES

(ETA: AHH FATGUM AND GANG ORCA ARE THERE TOO YESSSS!)

“that’s enough depending on some interns” oh, okay. now that they’ve done all your work for you. I see, I see

so now Gigantomachia is LITERALLY UNHINGING HIS JAW I can’t fucking believe this dude you guys. everything he does is just like, ARE YOU SERIOUS

please go to sleep already. thanks to you I have my keyboard set to capslock as the default for the duration of this chapter

ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU FUCKING WAITED UNTIL MAGIC FUCKING MAN SHOWED UP TO TEACH US MAGICAL LIFE LESSONS AND NOW YOU’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE TOMURA FIGHT?? WHY DO WE KEEP LETTING THIS MAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

oh my god you guys they really fucking did it

I guess that Howitzer slash fire punch combo really was that potent huh

anyway so now Endeavor is standing there making a big speech instead of reaching into Tomura’s pocket and taking the bullets that he doesn’t know about and shooting him with one asap. dammit Endeavor

aaaaand Tomura is firing back with the wisdom of Shimura Fucking Kotaro of all people

well you sure convinced me. damn I don’t know what I was thinking. heroes suck you guys. how dare they help other people all the time

so now he’s all “PERIOD, EXCLAMATION POINT!!”

take that Endeavor. you heard the man. it’s not destruction without conviction, as god as his witness he will have you know it is destruction WITH conviction. something something the great sage Shimura “I hurt my family for absolutely no reason at all, fuck this ‘helping others’ bullshit” Kotaro. I hope you packed your textbooks because you just got SCHOOLED. I hope the person who ordered you signed up for delivery notifications because you just got SENT. I HOPE YOU LIKE CAPITALISM BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT OWNED. I HOPE YOU CHOSE PAPER AND NOT SCISSORS BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT ROCKED

what an absolutely, unreservedly bizarre place to end the chapter lol. we’re really just done with this week, just like that. Majestic showed up and Gigantomachia opened his chin like a garage door and Tomura is all “you may have won the battle but you suck” while he buys time for Aizawa to suddenly sneeze or something so he can make his terrible comeback and continue Horikoshi’s Traumatize Every Kid in Class 1-A 2020 campaign. what an arc this is my friends. what an arc

#bnha 280 #ashido mina #kirishima eijirou #gigantomachia #shigaraki tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I didn't even notice the extra page on readheroaca until I was getting ready to click 'post' lol #something about ochako mistaking a real orca for their friendly teacher #resulting in a hilarious case of mistaken identity #I have no idea what this page is about or what it is doing there #but at this point 'because 2020' seems like a reasonable explanation for just about anything tbh

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deadwalkerpedia · 3 years

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The Walking Dead, “Days Gone Bye” | Analysis

The final season of The Walking Dead comes in August, so I decided to rewatch the show from the beginning as the end is nigh. TWD has been a part of me since I started to watch TV series, and I’ve watched Days Gone Bye more than seven times, so this is certainly one of the pieces of audiovisual media that I’ve consumed the most. To add a new interesting layer in my rewatches, I’ve decided to see the episodes with a critical and analytical lens, seeing it more than just as a pastime, and write my thoughts here. This will be a great ride for me, and I can’t wait to see again some iconic moments from TWD throughout the seasons and write about them.

Part 1: The World Before

Before getting into the first act of the episode, let me talk about the teaser – the first five minutes of the episode – quickly. As this is our introduction to the world of TWD, Days Gone Bye couldn’t simply start with Rick and Shane having a chat. So it was necessary that the teaser served as a way to establish both the tone and setting of this story, and it certainly does. The teaser tells us that what we are watching is a gritty survival horror story that takes place in a post-apocalyptic world, and the teaser establishes this perfectly without no more than two lines of dialogue. It is established visually: Rick stops his car on a deserted road with no traces of civilization anywhere, then goes to an abandoned gas station where other cars are – and those cars have dead bodies inside. From there, we know right from the start that this isn’t the world we live in. When Rick sees the young girl that is in fact a walker, it is established that this is a world where the main threat are zombies. At least for some part, as in future episodes the series will show us something far more scarier than walking cannibal dead bodies is the real danger.

Now storytelling-wise, TWD already proved its value in the first five minutes. Frank Darabont directed the episode and wrote the script, and his work in the episode both as director and writter is fantastic and set the bar high if the series wanted to have a consistency of greatness in its episodes. After the perfect five minutes purely composed of visual storytelling, the first scene of the first act is dialogue-heavy and character-driven. One would think that it is to establish to us that Rick and Shane are friends, that Rick has a wife and son and that they are cop buddies, and one would be right, but it is also more than simply introduction and exposition, and that’s the beauty of the audiovisual medium as a whole.

Reading books about screenplay writing, I’ve come to know more about subtext and its applications in both movies and series. Despite this first scene doing great work in introducing us to the two main characters of the season – their mindset, persona and some backstory – it also adds so much worldbuilding-wise. Shane goes on his rant about women not switching off the lights in a house before leaving it, and Rick talks about a discussion he and Lori had earlier. See, the teaser showed us a decaying world with walking bodies. Now, the first minutes of act one show us a world where people worry about such trivialities: switching off the lights. In the tagline for the first volume of the comic book, it reads “The world we knew is gone. The world of commerce and frivolous necessity has been replaced by a world of survival and responsibility“. The scene I mentioned is basically the live-action adaptation of it. We see the world of commerce and frivolous necessity in this introduction so we can understand better and fear the world of survival and responsibility that will come later in the episode. TWD started geniously: it went from visually-driven to dialogue-driven, and after that to visually-driven storytelling, all without losing its verisimilitude and charm.

Now, something about the visuals I loved: the grainy aspect. Because this episode was shot on film – in fact, up until season ten all episodes were shot on film – the film grain is obviously visible. But instead of being just an aesthetic choice – shooting in film or digital – I think it’s also meant to have implications tone-wise. The comic books this series adapt is in black-and-white (something unusual in American comics), but it’s because the writer Robert Kirkman wanted the comic to feel like a classic George Romero zombie flick, and it worked completely. Commercially, a black-and-white TV series wouldn’t be much embraced by a large and mainstream public, but I think that Darabont solved that problem and succeeded in maintaining an aesthetic similar to the feel the comic book wanted to transmit. The excessive film grain – something that made me feel like watching a Panos Cosmatos’ movie but without the acid trips – works because it resembles the Romero zombie flicks in color, like Dawn of the Dead. It is a classical and archetypal zombie story – even if it subverts some conventions various times throughout the series – and the visuals tell us that.

Not only that, but the episode has many moments that resembled The Mist in some ways: the camera being close to its characters to make the story feel grounded and experienced by real people, the back shots to make the audience feel like they are following the characters in their journeys, the handhold camera moments that gives a documentary feel, adding a realistic perspective. All that grants a grounded vibe to the episode, which works because this is a story about how people react and live in a lawless world which can kill them at any possible moment without any warnings. It’s where chaos and anarchy reigns and where death always lurks. A story like that works better when it’s experienced through the eyes of the characters. It’s also best represented in the moment where Rick leaves the hospital and sees the sun for the first time. In the shot, the Sun is blinding us with its shining light, but then there’s a cut, and in the next shot we see only Rick covering his eyes while the blinding sun rays don’t make it to the camera. It’s the switch of subjective to objective perspective, as in the first we see the world with Rick eyes – it’s a man getting out of the dark for the first time in months – and in the second we see the same moment but from outside lens, and it showed us that this a day like any other where the sun doesn’t blind you. Besides, this episode has a low budget sensitivity – not meaning that the quality is subpar, but that it has an authenticity that is extremely convincing. It is that low budget quality that makes the story feel real in a certain way. That is, of course, until the tank in the middle of a city is shown, but even with the realism, it is still tangible, and the story continues to feel realistic in its depiction of a zombie apocalypse in the “real world”.

The whole sequence of the car chase and the shooting between the cops and the criminals is beautifully conducted by Darabont, who knows his craft remarkably and executes it in a manner like no one else does. The memorable shots, shot by Darabont, immortalize the whole sequence and reach its climax – the gunshot Rick suffers – perfectly in a crescendo that works better here than in the comics, this being an easy task, but still, Darabont managed to do it in an impressive way, totally deserving a bravado status.

Also, something that I also appreciated, and I think it’s overlooked: when the police cruiser where Rick and Shane are passes through a road, we see a single crow eating a roadkill. What do this mean exactly? Animals can’t turn to zombies so one might think this is only a moment with no meaning behind it. But now I interprete it as a symbol. It is meant to represent that society has be decaying long before the dead came to eat the living. It remembers me the first Mad Max, where the world is not in the same level as it appears in Mad Max 2: Road Warrior – a full-on post-apocalyptic society – but it is in its final stages, leaning to barbarism and uncontrollable chaos. The producers of TWD announced an anthology spin-off series named Tales of the Walking Dead, and it certainly would be interesting to see more of the transition between our world and the post-apocalyptic zombie-ridden world, showing the process in-between of transformation and decay.

Part 2: Brave New World

The second act starts as Rick steps out of the hospital and faces the current reality of his world, and it’s an ugly one. Rick sees dead bodies everywhere and discarded military gear. Something dreadful happened when he was in a coma. The world undergone a change so great in his sleep that it’s impressive that Rick didn’t drown in total madness when he first saw what’s left of society. Most of act two is about Rick having to come to terms with his new life: one entirely ruled by survival. Now, another interesting element that is also a symbol in my interpretation: the bicycle girl. The bicycle girl (which is the zombie without its lower body) is the first walker Rick encounters. He is scared by her and runs away from her with the bicycle that was there next to him. The bicycle girl is nothing more than the remains of the past life of Rick and the world before. It is dead and alive at the same time – like the walkers – but in a pitiful state. It can’t be on its feet and is always trying to grasp and touch Rick, but, ultimately, it can’t. Rick fears it, and because of that he runs.

Most of the second act is focused on the interactions of Rick and Morgan Jones. Morgan, after encountering Rick and saving him from a nearby walker, takes him inside his house, but fearing that the gunshot wound was in fact a walker bite, Morgan rightly tied Rick to a bed and waited for him to wake up to ask some questions. Now, it’s incredible how this episode never misses a beat and is not made of only three truly great scenes, but all of the scenes are great. The whole dinamic of Morgan explaining to Rick what happened and what it takes to live in this new world felt so natural that no critic could say it was bad exposition. It was exposition done right, revealing more about Morgan’s character, showing him as a good man and a father to his son Duane. It’s easy to understand why Rick and Morgan liked each other one day after meeting for the first time. The chemistry is real, and it’s unbelievable how seasons later, when they see each other again, the chemistry is still there.

Andrew Lincoln and Lennie James are spectacular actors. Their acting in this episode is astonishingly extraordinary. I’m pissed that they didn’t won any awards for it, they certainly deserve it. Andrew’s acting was great all way through, but when he first arrives at his house and cries for Lori and Carl you could feel the man’s pain and suffering. One moment that is perfect and maybe one of the bests of all TV history is when Rick is having an existential crisis. “Is this real? Am I here?”, asks Rick while facing the ground. It’s such a powerful reaction to the absurdity he is experiencing and it feels so damn real because Andrew Lincoln can cry like a pro and give the gaze of a man that is lost. Rick is lost. And this scene can provide such a powerful punch to the audience that you can’t help but be already invested in Rick’s journey. He just wants his family, so he can put some sense in a mad world. Without them, Rick is lost.

The second act makes us empathize more with Rick and Morgan. They both have admirable goals. They just want to live and provide for their family. Their bond is developed exceptionally in their final moments together – before Rick travels to Atlanta – that you are left caring for them and wanting a reunion. The final scenes of act two were made to make you feel emotional without doubt, and I’m sure that it worked on some people and made them fall in love with the series instantly. It’s when Rick kills bicycle girl and Morgan fails to kill his dead wife, now a walker. The soundtrack by Bear McCreary is phenomenal and adds so much dramatic and emotional weight to the scenes, and it fits perfectly with the tone of pretty much the core of the series. It’s a haunting song, a sorrowful one full of melancholy, but it also has a spark of hope in it. It makes a statement: everything is sadly collapsing around us, but there’s still hope of rebuilding. The Mercy of the Living is TWD summarized in an orchestral piece, and I feel like crying every time I listen to it, just like the piece Alive Inside of Telltale’s game, that also does a masterful job in creating a sad but hopeful atmosphere in its melody. The bicycle girl – which is the past Rick and the world before – must be killed by Rick if he wants to continue his voyage, to which destination is his family. Rick is teary and heartbroken in killing bicycle girl because now he has to fully embrace a life ruled by survival. “I’m sorry this happened to you.” is Rick final message and requiem to the world and consequently to his past self – a quiet Rick that didn’t want to discuss with Lori in front of Carl –, both who had problems that they couldn’t resolve before the tragedy that hit them.

Part 3: The Beginning

The third and last act are in fact the beginning. We saw a peak of a world before the zombie apocalypse and Rick waking up in this desolated society in the first two acts, but the third one is to introduce and set up what the series is about and what will do to its end: show the characters in a battle for survival, and ultimately in a quest for the return of humanity and civilization. Both are depicted in the scenes where Rick is trying to save himself from a horde of walkers that attack him and his horse, and the other with Shane’s group listening and trying to talk in the radio with a mysterious survivor (Rick himself) who warns about his coming into the city, showing their efforts to help fellow survivors who might enter Atlanta without knowing its dangers, thus demonstrating that they are still human after all.

The episode show us a little about the relationship of Shane and Lori, as well as a glimpse to their group. It wasn’t exactly necessary, but it doesn’t hurt in any way the season’s progress and development. The third act is best represented by Rick entering Atlanta and having to escape a humongous horde of walkers. Rick manages to survive by hiding in the tank that was parked in a street. The scene also show us that zombies had some intelligence – they crawl and try to open things – and some of them look cartoonishly green or grey, instead of the realistic putrid rotting flesh look the marvelous make-up by Greg Nicotero can provide. And both of these things are common to the iconography Romero made for the zombies. It’s very clear that Darabont takes inspirations from his movies and respect their legacy by expanding it to a new range of people and an audience that is maybe not that familiar with Romero – I wasn’t when I first watched TWD and when I saw Romero’s movies I was impressed by how it influenced the series.

Days Gone Bye is a masterclass of how a pilot should be made. This quintessential pilot introduces a storyline that will be finished within the episode. while also setting up what’s coming next in the season, laying ground for all the future episodes in the best way possible. It introduces a protagonist that proves that he can sustain a show on his own – he is a caring father, loving husband, a good man and a kind of Western hero, we see him riding in his horse towards the imminent danger full of guns and determination searching only for his family. The Walking Dead may not be recognized as a TV series that revolutionized the medium, but it revolutionized its genre, and overall it is a great series that deserves recognition, and so does Days Gone Bye. It is simply the perfect pilot.

#the walking dead #days gone bye #rick grimes

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adlib-spoken-written-thought · 6 years

Text

Beyond Me

I found an old short story I wrote about fourteen years ago when I was at college and living in Edinburgh. Probably not what I would write now but I remember writing it for a competition that was supposed to be inspired by the word ‘north’. I remember finding that a bit boring but the Slayer song South of Heaven made me think of hell and became the basis for it.

Here it is;

Darkness surrounds me. Well… not darkness, as it’s just black. I can’t see the floor beneath my feet or the walls that should surround me; I cannot even see my hands flapping in front of my face. I can just make out the sound of my shirtsleeves brushing against my chest as I try to see my hand inches from my eyes.

“Freaky!”

This sounds weird, as though it is just the voice inside my head, rather than a sound being projected across an open space. I feel confused now. Where the hell can I be and how the fuck did I get here? I blindly reach out to the sides, half wincing in case I hit my head on some invisible obstruction I expect to be there. Nothing! Not within arms reach anyway. I scuff my feet a bit and hear something loose like gravel or a rough stony surface. Slowly shuffling to my left I feel for a wall or a surface. Nothing!

I hear some noise now. Tiny pitter-patters like water dripping down a rock face. It seems to be coming from the floor next to my left foot. I slowly kneel down to bring my ears nearer to try and distinguish what this could be. I feel some hard objects crunch under my feet and knees as I transfer my weight. I reach down to inspect this with my right hand. It feels slightly warm and rock like, but I can feel something powdery as my fingers caress it. Curious, I sniff, wondering if I can place it somewhere in my memory. Dust goes up my nose, making me sneeze. Odd, it’s like charcoal. This is perplexing, where could this be?

I feel totally bewildered now. Could I have gone blind? What did I do last night? I don’t think I was getting fucked, so there’s no reason to be tripping. But it feels like it. Somewhere unreal. Then again, maybe I’m not. Maybe I am just drunk? Could I be drunk? Have I done something to my eyes in a campfire whilst pished? What was happening last night? I am sure this is still mid week and not a night out. I wonder what else could be near me to give me some indication. A beer can, or someone else’s comatose body in a similar state to mine. I reach my left arm down to brush this cinder-covered floor for invisible clues.

There is no floor!!!

In front of me, just a couple of inches in front of my first excavation, it ends! I feel the edge as more lumps of debris crumble and fall. I hear the same sound again. It is these light chunks of charcoal tumbling away into some unknown depths! I can feel my breath deepen and the sweat start to ooze out of my pores. My head lurches and I feel sick at what could have happened had I shuffled forwards and not to the left. I can feel heat rising from my body. Panic could be looming.

Where the fuck am I?

I have to know somehow. I feel to my left and feel this same uniform carpet of crunching burnt fuel. I evaluate my position and decide that backing away from the edge is my best bet. At least I will be away from the edge. God knows how high it could be, and heights have never been my strong point. I hope we didn’t do anything stupid. What if we had been drinking ethanol or some other fucking chemical? I mean we aren’t dumb fucking Neds. We are sophistos who like to sample the interesting range of mind-bending escapes from our reality. If someone conned us and I am fucking blind, I am going to fucking kill them! I just have to get away from this fucking place first! I suddenly have an idea, assuming my ears aren’t damaged somehow as well. I cup a hand full of small chunks from the ground and chuck them gently in front of me. I hear them land softly. I shuffle forwards and try this again. I hope it will hit something. A tent, a person or something metallic like a beer keg I can reassure myself with. Nothing!

What if someone did me over? That could be possible. Maybe they kicked the crap out of me and left me somewhere. I mean there are some wankers in my line of work! Maybe they hoped I would fall off. It wouldn’t be murder then would it? Why now though? I don’t think there’s a reason. That dealer we kicked out of the club last week didn’t work for anyone. It’s not going to be his mates then, they’ve not got enough balls to tackle us. And I don’t think the pushers have a quarrel with us right now! But checking my body I can find nothing awry. I can find no cuts, no bruising and no torn clothes. Definitely not a fight then!

Man I can’t think. I feel something then. A gust of warm air blows gently towards me. That should be a good sign, although I am not quite sure of what yet. I hobble forwards like a paranoid rabbit, still testing the way with small handfuls of rocks.

Hang on though! I can hear falling rocks again.

I hope I am wrong, but I think I have fully imprinted that noise firmly into my memory. I have arrived at another edge, or, I have gone full circle and come right back. I don’t think I have travelled far enough to rotate three hundred and sixty degrees though. It feels identical. I am stunned. My mind has gone blank. This is just totally unfathomable to me. I know of no place like this. Just fucking amazing! I am blind on some narrow cliff pass in the middle of fucking nowhere! Just fucking great!

I can’t despair over this; I have come through a lot in my life! I am not going to sit on a path and cry like a pussy with no sight.

Or am I? Christ, I might at this rate!

Don’t give up. I mean the path must lead somewhere.

It just might take a while. I’d better start now. I turn to my right seeing as I have already travelled this direction a short distance. Why back track? I run my hand along the edge to my left to guide me. I shuffle on, determined to get away from this place. I can feel my knees rubbing raw on the path below them. I just want to get to a car park, get help and get to some safe haven where I can nurse my wounded pride.

It feels strange that the edge is so crumbly. I would have imagined some fence would be appropriate to stop small children or dogs falling off the edge. I wonder that there seems to be no plant life. No tough heather clinging to the sides of this goat track. I wonder if it is day or night, not that it would make much difference to me right now.

I suddenly choke, my simplistic daydreams ruptured by the harsh reality I am confronted with.

This path ends.

No wall or solid mass confronts me. Just another decaying edge and space. What fucking path is this, a deserted viewpoint maybe? I scream out “WHICH CUNT DID THIS TO ME???? I AM GONNAE FUCKING CUT YOUR BALLS OFF!!!!!!”

Man, I can feel pinpricks in my eyes as small drops of moisture squeeze their way out of my tear ducts. I am really sobbing now. Where, how, who, what? I just have no answers. I drag myself round and start crawling back the way I had just come. It feels slightly smoother where I have flattened this cinder path. I can feel the dust rising around my face. Fuck caution now! With warm tears flowing and this bitter burnt mix of sweat, tears and dust covering my face, I painfully scramble on, following the edge with my right hand. My only thought now is to get away and reap vengeance on the person who put me here. I am moving quickly now. Repeatedly moving my arms, putting weight on my feet and then transferring onto my scuffed raw knees. I feel crunching again and know I am moving along a path I have not trodden already.

I suddenly stop, paused in mid lurch forwards. An overwhelming sense of fear is gnawing at my stomach ripping my insides out of me. The path crunches under my palm. It hadn’t been like this retracing my first vain steps. Then it was powdery dust that I could feel going into my eyes and into my mouth and nose. It hadn’t been walked upon.

It hadn’t been walked upon.

This repeats like an echo in my head.

No one had walked upon it! Absolutely no one! How had I got there then?

I feel bile making a forced upward journey and gag, retching onto my hands and the ground in front of me. Disgusting, bitter acid fills my nose. This is hopeless. I just don’t understand.

Of course… the path is wider! Who would walk at the very edge? Anyone else could see and just follow the path. No blind man would come this way! I try to breathe deeply and calmly through the dust and bile. I hawk and spit away in front of me to clear my airways. I have got to keep on moving.

I get one more hop forwards before I make contact with nothing. Again!

This suddenly feels ridiculous. Like this is some practical joke. It can’t be real. There’s no way I could have got here blind and on my own. Maybe it is a joke? I might not be blind. Maybe it was a spray of some kind? Am I being filmed for some fucking bullshit reality television show? I had better not! I move back from the fourth drop and slowly shakily stand upright like the man I should be. I scream out “ I am gonnae sue your ass, you fucking cock suckers!” I worry about this now. What if they don’t help me, to see what state I can get into? “ I know your game!” I holler, feeling somewhat helpless. This feels somehow deadened. There is no echo. I must be in a studio. I suddenly worry in case I have no rights. What if my girlfriend agreed to this? What if I cannot sue these corporate bastards?

Suddenly, a shot of narrow light fires vertically down some distance in front of me. Startled after this time in the dark, I am just relieved I can see. I realise that the light is travelling a long way. It is so high! It just doesn’t seem to stop. It’s like some amazing Hollywood special effect, a massive towering beam of brilliant white light. Magic, maybe this was worth it. Hey, I might even get paid! I rub my eyes and glance down at my dim figure suddenly self-conscious about my appearance.

Suddenly it tilts towards me; so bright! I look down and see my ragged blackened chinos, a solid layer of charcoal on my raw seeping knees. My silk shirt is wet with sweat and has black streaks running through it. The sleeves rolled up, I see the state of my forearms. Blackened and scuffed raw from feeling my way. My hands need a hot soak and a good manicure. I wipe my face and see my hands run black. Man I wish I had a mirror, or a camera. What a sight eh!

I look up and am instantly blinded…

Screaming in agony, I defensively drop into a crouch! Fuck! My eyes are burning! So painful, like having acid poured into them. I slowly stand; shielding my closed eyes, quite unable to believe the light could hurt so much. I can feel the pain burning into my skull. My head raised, I clean my hand and reach up to gently touch my closed eyelids and measure the damage inflicted. It feels untouched, but my eyes are two hot coals inside my head. I raise my left hand to block the light from my face. I open my eyes grimacing, but determined to find the cause.

Although the sensation is unbearable, I can see, in a fashion. I see my raised arm as though it is translucent, a shimmering light running through it. I can see the light behind my hand piercing directly through making me scream again. My lungs rattling and my face blistering I reach up and gingerly touch my eyes. More searing pain as my fingers make contact, as though I have dipped them into molten rock! I yelp and snatch back my wounded hand snapping my head down to see how these too could be inflicted. Instantly I feel a rush of warmth down my cheeks, over my lips and I see that my three fingers are burning. The white light within me is burning with a strange purple flame. So intense! I look down rapidly; sensing that what was first warmth is now more extreme heat burning through me. I can feel my whole face burning and my chest is also simmering like boiling oil has been poured over the top half of my body. I can now only feel this ultimate heat and pain. And it spreads quickly!

I beat at my chest and face with my left arm whilst attempting to dowse my right hand. My mind screaming more than my voice, seeing this only adds to the pyre I have become. Only setting alight areas of my body which had remained untouched from the first purple flames! I see drops from my eyes have splashed onto my legs and the cinders below me, and, like molten plastic, started small fires in each of their tiny locations. Somehow my eyes are alight and this liquid fuel is burning so very hot. Like my very spirit; somehow ignited, through the very windows of my soul, by the white heat I gazed upon.

My head burns as the flames from my eyes lick upwards, over my eyebrows and make my hair into a human torch. My body becoming completely afire as all my white essence is consumed by this greedy purple entity. Like a small child watching flames chasing petrol, it is morbidly fascinating to see my body in turn act as such a catalyst for this reaction. The pain has reached an immeasurable frightening intensity, unwavering, as there is no fresh fuel to ignite. Through this haze of choking heat, flame and purple haze I see my body is intact. Something inside of me, my essence I’m sure. My soul is burning! I want to writhe about to smother the flames, but I see the cinders beneath me heating up. Already absorbing the energy I am giving off and beginning to give off a dull red glow. So futile!

I stand erect with arms raised and roar in anger, pain and confusion. I raise my head and see the light still pointed directly at me. It is so intense, but now no more painful than the rest of my tormented body. I fix it with my gaze and scream directly at it. “WHY?”

Suddenly I feel slightly cooler like a gust of air has wafted past. I look at my arms to see if I am still a grotesque burning wick.

Instantly the heat comes back! Hotter than before or maybe not, it is maybe hotter due to my brief respite.

I fall!

How?

Suddenly I come crashing down into the hot cinders, scattering them away. It feels like from some height, crashing into the platform and collapsing, snapping my right leg and bruising my side in the process. Burning, in pain and now winded. The jarring agony combines with my white heat and I feel like passing out.

But my body is not dead; there is nowhere to go but here.

I flounder about in these burning embers like a dying fish out of water. Gasping for air in the smoke arising from this flaming base I am perched on.

Looking above me the white light fades.

Around me it gets brighter.

The blackness around me slowly illuminates like coal warming up. This picture takes on a non-too-subtle red hue. I think the speed is more for psychological effect than lack of power, like realisation finally dawning. I see innumerable pillars of black rock rising out of glowing pools of lava and fountains of liquid fire. Somehow pulling myself onto my knees, I see I am not alone. On every pillar there is a flaming figure, caught in their own flaming macabre dance. Realising where I am, my last dregs of sanity and hope are dashed. Somehow dead and abandoned into Hell! I scream, my tortured voice joining the rising cacophony and mingling with all who never made it.

Dammed to an eternity of this, because I didn’t realise I was being given a chance!

For what? And why me?

I scream out “HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW, I ‘M A FUCKING ATHEIST YOU WANKERS!!!!”

‘Time’s up!’ a disembodied voice suddenly reverberates inside my head.

I suddenly jolt in my harness, breathing in heat, smoke and blackened fiery dust!

Opening my lungs to scream I choke and gag. I try to wrench my arms to move my weight off my shattered leg now making contact with the flaming floor.

I find I cannot move.

My eyes flash open with fearful anticipation. What entity should I have to confront down here?

The technician is looking at me with a bemused look on his face as he rolls the disconnected VDU’s fibre optic VR cables back up “Some fucking journey man! You gotta have some kind of complex to waste money on these machines, especially for this kinda entertainment!”

#adlib #written #english #short story #beyond me #wrote #essay #perspective #hell #slayer #south of heaven #north #creative writing #story

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askjulitaabh · 7 years

Text

Coconut Oil and Cannabis Capsule

Humans have cultivated and used the flowering tops of the female cannabis plant, known colloquially as marijuana, since history was recorded. Archaeologists in Central Asia even found over 2 pounds of cannabis in a 2,700 year-old grave of a shaman.

Written and pictorial evidence of cannabis use is scattered throughout numerous cultures indicating a wide acceptance and use of the plant for thousands of years.

Drug Classification Halts Use

Federal prohibitions outlawing the therapeutic and recreational use of cannabis were first imposed by Congress with the Marijuana Tax Act of 1937. Later, the plant’s organic compounds (cannabinoids) were classified as a Schedule I substance under the Controlled Substances Act of 1970.

This classification puts the plant in the same pool as heroin and states that cannabis possesses “a high potential for abuse … no currently accepted medical use … [and] a lack of accepted safety for the use of the drug … under medical supervision.”

In contrast, cocaine and methamphetamine – illegal for recreational use, may be consumed under a doctors supervision and are classified as Schedule II drugs. Examples of Schedule III and IV drugs include anabolic steroids and Valium. Analgesics that contain codeine are defined by law as Schedule V drugs, the most lenient classification.

In Support of Therapeutic Use

Federal lawmakers continue to use the dated drug classification as a means to defend criminalization of marijuana. However, there appears to be very little scientific basis for the categorization of the plant. As its prohibition has passed 75 years, researchers continue to study the therapeutic properties of cannabis.

There are over 20,000 published reviews and studies in scientific literature that pertain to the cannabis plant and its cannabinoids, almost one-third of these have been published in the last 4 years. A keyword search on PubMed Central (the US government library of peer-reviewed scientific research) shows 2,100 studies alone since 2011.

Modern culture is now catching up on what our ancestors knew, and public opinion and relaxing state legislation are leading the way for more people to use medicinal marijuana for a wide number of medical conditions. At present, marijuana for medical purposes is legal in 20 states and the District of Columbia.

While the debate continues to boil at both state and federal levels, there has been a strong and growing trend of acceptance related to the growing body of scientific evidence indicating that marijuana may indeed contain some powerful medicinal properties that we would be foolish to overlook.

Joycelyn Elders, MD, former US Surgeon General, wrote the following in a Mar. 26, 2004 article titled “Myths About Medical Marijuana,” published in the Providence Journal:

“The evidence is overwhelming that marijuana can relieve certain types of pain, nausea, vomiting and other symptoms caused by such illnesses as multiple sclerosis, cancer and AIDS — or by the harsh drugs sometimes used to treat them. And it can do so with remarkable safety. Indeed, marijuana is less toxic than many of the drugs that physicians prescribe every day.”

Ray Cavanaugh, PhD, National Director of the American Alliance for Medical Cannabis (AAMC), wrote the following in a 2002 article titled “The Plight of the Chronically Ill,” posted on the AAMC website:

“Many of the chronically ill have successfully sought relief with the use of medical cannabis, an age-old remedy that now shows real scientific efficacy. Hundreds of thousands of the sick have replaced disabling narcotics and other psychotropic medications with nontoxic and benign cannabis. The anecdotal evidence is overwhelming. Folks with spinal injuries able to give up their walkers, AIDS patients able to gain weight and keep their medications down, cancer patients finding relief from the terrible nausea of chemotherapy, chronic pain patients once again functional with their consciousness restored from narcotic lethargy, and folks once disabled from crippling psychiatric disorders and addictions, returned to sanity and society with the assistance of a nontoxic herb with remarkable healing powers.”

The American Nurses Association (ANA) wrote the following in its Mar. 19, 2004 “Position Statement: Providing Patients Safe Access to Therapeutic Marijuana/Cannabis,” posted on the ANA website:

“The American Nurses Association (ANA) recognizes that patients should have safe access to therapeutic marijuana/cannabis. Cannabis or marijuana has been used medicinally for centuries. It has been shown to be effective in treating a wide range of symptoms and conditions.”

Researchers at the University of California Center for Medicinal Cannabis Research announced findings from a number of randomized, placebo controlled clinical trials on the medical utility of inhaled cannabis in 2010.

The studies used the FDA ‘gold standard’ clinical trial design and reported that marijuana should be the “first line of treatment” for patients suffering from neuropathy and other serious illnesses.

Neuropathy is a type of pain associated with diabetes, cancer, spinal cord injuries, HIV/AIDS and other debilitating conditions. The trials indicated that marijuana controlled pain as good or better than available medications.

Scientists continue to study the effectiveness of cannabinoids all over the world. In Germany there have been over 37 controlled studies, with over 2,500 subjects, assessing the safety and efficacy of marijuana, since 2005. In contrast, most FDA-approved drugs go through far fewer trials with less subjects but are approved for use.

The research on cannabis has shifted from studying its ability to alleviate symptoms of disease such as nausea associated with chemotherapy to its potential role in modifying disease. Medical marijuana has been shown to slow the onset of Alzheimers disease and moderate autoimmune disorders including multiple sclerosis, inflammatory bowel disease and rheumatoid arthritis.

Medical marijuana capsules infused in coconut oil are an alternative way to therapeutically use cannabis without having to inhale it through smoking. Infusing cannabis into coconut oil also allows for easy entry into the liver where it can be rapidly processed.

Coconut oil is used because of its high amount of essential fatty acids which makes it a good binding agent for the cannabinoids. Not to mention its amazing health properties. Half of the fat in coconut oil is comprised of a fat that is not frequently found in nature, lauric acid.

Lauric acid has been called a “miracle” ingredient due to its health promoting capabilities and is present in a mother’s milk. In fact, it can be found in only three dietary sources—small amounts in butterfat and larger amounts in palm kernel and coconut oil.

In the body, lauric acid is converted to monolaurin, which is a potent antiviral, antibacterial and antiprotozoal substance. Because monolaurin is a monoglyceride, it can destroy lipid-coated viruses including measles, influenza, HIV, herpes and a number of pathogenic bacteria.

Testimony – A Success Story

While many remain suspicious of the therapeutic benefits of cannabis, Stan and Barb Rutner are convinced of its efficacy. This couple has stood in the face of cancer a number of times and survived to learn from their experiences.

Barb had two bouts of breast cancer and Stan was diagnosed 20 years ago with non-Hodgkin lymphoma which, after treatment, disappeared. However, in 2011, it returned. Cancerous nodes in his lungs were diagnosed and later he was told that the cancer was in his brain. The outlook was grim indeed.

As he went through the harsh treatment of chemotherapy and radiation, Stan and his family wanted to find a natural solution that would help improve his quality of life and even prolong it. Hearing that cannabis was effective in helping with the pain and other effects of chemotherapy for cancer patients they were more than open to give it a try. According to Stan and Barb, medical cannabis was the golden ticket.

The Rutners daughter, Corinne and her husband did some research and it was decided that daytime cannabis capsule infused in coconut oil would be a good choice. After two weeks of taking the capsule, Stan was able to give up his oxygen tank that he was tied to around the clock. He began to gain weight, sleep better and get stronger overall. After several months, a brain scan revealed that Stan was completely cancer free.

The Rutners are convinced that cannabis works as an anti-cancer medicine. According to John, the Rutners son-in-law, “There is no doubt in my mind that cannabis pulled my father-in-law out of the wasting stages of cancer and enabled him to gain strength and in turn fight this horrible cell malfunction with success. While many would say that the chemo and radiation could have played apart, he would never have lived long enough to find out without cannabis oil.”

Susan is the Content Director at The Alternative Daily, a Certified Health Coach, Certified Metabolic Typing Advisor and Master Gardener. With an extensive knowledge of whole foods and wellness, Susan enjoys educating others on how to live healthy and sustainable lives. She presently lives off grid in the middle of the New Mexican high desert with her three children and numerous animals.

Source

http://www.thealternativedaily.com/coconut-oil-cannabis-medical-miracle/

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orukamachi · 7 years

Text

Voltron: Grass

So earlier this evening/yesterday (for me) I sent the minific prompt ‘grass’ to the Voltron Think Tank and they put together the most incredible piece of collaborative fic I have seen in literally years.

Well, while they were about it I went off and wrote my own response to my own prompt and had a nap and a sandwich and it turned out very different. I’m trying to rustle up some confidence in my work because when I write I write a lot. I write. A LOT. And never publish. So here’s a step towards changing that.

Alternative title, maybe: Catnip

They’d almost grown used to it already. The constant attention, the prying, the medicals, and years before that, the absence of daylight and clean air as they had been raised to know them. Since their return to earth, triumphant in its own way, they’d still not quite been set free. The Garrison had hounded around them, closely followed by the military, not only of the USA but of a number of exceedingly shady international organisations. Shiro even pointed a couple of figures out, saying ‘I know that guy,’ but not recalling exactly where, except that it hadn’t been before Kerberos.

Keith was put into quarantine. Shiro very nearly killed the man who made the order on the spot, putting the boot in with an unfamiliar feeling he later identified as revenge. Ultimately they both agreed to be kept under observation, if only to prove that there was not one stinking thing wrong with either of them. Just that one of them had a hyper-advanced prosthesis that could – and did – cut through his observation cell wall, and the other occasionally flickered out of focus and back like a chameleon having an acid trip. Normal things. Normal side-effects of being lied to and lied about for years on end.

Katie – and that felt strange, to hear people calling her Katie – had been sent off home as she was listed as a minor, and she’d kicked and screamed the whole way because she’d just spent seven years in space and had hit her legitimate twentieth already and there was no way in HELL she would swallow child treatment. But she went in the end, because her father and brother were going, and she really, really did miss her mom. Then Lance and Hunk had run home to their mothers with all the dignity they could muster, but had sprung back into formation just as quickly, Hunk with his mother in tow and Lance bringing an entire airplane full of old friends and relatives who filled up the Garrison’s every empty space with noise and clutter, and provided just enough distractions to let the Paladins cleave together, hold each other up the way they’d learned to do, even if two of them could only press their forehead to the glass in greeting.

Samuel brought Pidge back to them. She’d cried when she’d met her mother again, but cried more for being made to leave her new brothers behind. They scooped her up like a doll, their most precious treasure, And she posted a message through to Keith’s vacuum-sealed cell, a note to say that his hut and his gravbike were still out there, amazingly untouched, buried by the shifting sand, and that she and Hunk were going to fix it up, and then some. Hunk winked. Lance groaned. More days away from the beach.

Shiro was released. Keith wasn’t. The Holts and the McLain clan occupied the director’s office a little more pointedly. Hunk’s mother made an awe-striking appearance. A decision was made.

Keith was released. Shiro collided with him like a planet plunging into a star, whispering something only Keith could hear, until the words became nothing but sounds with no meaning.

In four months, they had barely seen a week’s daylight between them.

The big press event was on. The world turned its eyes on them, watching and listening as they answered – very carefully – public questions – also very carefully vetted – in front of a field of cameras and microphones, smartphones they didn’t recognise, all of it tech that seemed strangely out-of-time for them. None of them were really focusing. Lance and Pidge were leading the talk. As time passed, they huddled in together, Keith flush up against Shiro’s right arm, Lance scooting so close up against his left that Pidge, between them, was sitting on their laps. Hunk at the far end like a buttress against them overbalancing, right arm hooked around Lance’s waist, bringing him down as he kept leaping up to pick a fight with the press, repeatedly knocking Pidge out of her seat. She shunted Shiro over to make room, muttering Altean expletives.

Shiro let his eyes unfocus and gaze away into the far distance. The hall had one wall of fold-back panels, now completely open to the elements as people crushed in to hear this first interview with the much lauded heroes of the year. Somewhere out there, a patch of something shimmered in the heat.

“You see…?” he murmured.

“I see,” Keith replied. “You want it?”

“I want it,” Shiro decreed.

He stood, trailing Pidge as he went, and the rest of them followed like a train of ducklings, never letting go of one another as Shiro carved his way through the crowd, people jumping back and falling silent as he strode towards them, eyes fixed on the far horizon and each of his Paladins solemnly matching his pace.

The sun hit them like scalding water and each of them gasped in the unfamiliar heat, the impossible brightness of it, hands brought up to shield their eyes as Shiro dragged them on and on, a flotilla of cameramen following their every step. It was barely a hundred yards. It felt like miles.

It was a lawn.

It was ten yards square.

With a stupid foot-high chain-link fence.

With a familiar feeling of synchronicity, and an odd sense of reverence, they each stooped to take off their footwear and stepped over the barrier, as they had done in so many different ways before, and then hit the ground like tired children, exhausted from too much running around.

It was cool, cushioning, and prickly. It was heavenly.

Grass.

“Say the thing, Lance,” said Shiro, as he knelt on the turf, dug his fingers into the roots and brought his head down low enough to smell the damp soil.

“Fooorm Voltron!”

“Maybe the other thing?”

“Oh, sure-- Disengage.”

“Right. Right. Everybody just… disengage.” The four of them watched fondly as Shiro lay down smack dab in the middle of the manicured lawn, sprawling in the wonderful, unique scent of planet Earth, rolling like a cat, flexing his back as he stretched out, turning his face to the heavens and seeing a familiar moon in the mid-morning sky. Earth, and the Moon, old friends reunited.

They joined him. It was wonderful. Cameras flashed nearby, and they didn’t give one damn between them. And they wondered how they’d forgotten grass of all things. Keith remembered the heat of the desert sun, Hunk had longed for the mountains of home, Lance had openly cried for rain, And Pidge – well, she had never missed nature before, but now that she’d realised, it hurt all the more.

Shiro cried. Not really crying, just letting years and years of confinement and fear escape as tears and roll away into the soil. He didn’t make a sound, but they could all feel it in the minute shudders he valiantly tried to hide.

“Salt’s bad for grass,” Hunk said to the sky.

So Shiro laughed instead.

#voltron fic #notice me sempai #I banged this out in an hour I feel strangely proud #and then I spent half an hour editing out all the shippiness #machi wrote a thing

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