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bronyinabottle · 3 years

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G5 MOVIE THOUGHTS FOLLOWUP - THE ANCIENT EQUESTRIAN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

SPOILER WARNING: THIS WILL GET INTO SPOILERS FOR THE G5 MOVIE EVEN BEFORE THE BREAK. IT HAS BEEN JUST OVER A WEEK SINCE THE MOVIE PREMIERED. BUT IF YOU STILL HAVEN'T SEEN IT, PLEASE SCROLL PAST THIS.

This is something of a follow-up to my thoughts on the movie. My thoughts on the movie were generally positive. Though much like the movie itself, the positive thoughts were on what it’s doing on it’s own merit as the start of a new generation of pony media. As someone who had followed Generation 4 from all the way in the middle of Season 1 to the ending of Season 9, the connection the G5 movie makes with the previous generation in the opening scenes are enough that it’s necessary to give a perspective from a G4 fan’s point of view. Again, I do want to say that G5 will be within it’s right to not have to answer so many plot things at once and try to stand on it’s own by exploring the characters and this new Equestria first.

That said, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the longer none of the questions G4 fans will have are answered. There is a huge elephant in the room with the unanswered questions from G4. And It is Hasbro’s fault in the first place for telling us it’s the same Equestria, There will be fans that are annoying about it from multiple angles, and there will probably be times where people who just want to enjoy G5 on it’s own just outright snap at anyone who wants their answers about what happened in between G4 and G5. Even if the person who asks the question is just genuinely curious and not being demanding there be answers. This is just the kind of thing that all fandoms that have timeskip sequels, especially ones where it overrides a happy ending where discussing with other friends can get dicey.

HAPPY ENDING OVERRIDES AND ALICORNS

Until we get an official answer from the show itself, we can only theorize with each other. Though theorizing about a happy ending override, regardless of how long it’s been and/or how sensible the theory is can start some heated discussions, Cause many were content with the happy ending of the original. While no realistic story ever has a happily ever after, a story within a fantasy land such as MLP’s can be an exception.

Let me give something of a comparison by bringing up another show. Avatar: The Last Airbender is perhaps my favorite show of all-time. And while it’s true I didn’t like the sequel series Korra as much as A:TLA. It wasn’t because of some happy ending override with at least half of the main cast from the previous series deceased. The Avatars themselves are just as human as the other characters in the world. Avatar’s still a fantasy world when all is said and done, but the way the world building is done still made it feel like it it was possible for the world to be in danger again by the time the next Avatar is grown up, most known Avatars had challenges they had to face. The Avatar series blends some form of realism but still manages to provide a fun fantasy world. It’s a case where it’s believable that the main legacy of Aang’s time as the Avatar aside from defeating the Fire Lord where he created Republic City would have it’s own fair share of problems that would be left to his successor to solve. Aang in turn was finishing the war that Roku failed to stop. So while I have my criticisms about Korra, none of those are related to the way the world is after the timeskip. It reasonably makes sense in the context of the Avatar universe.

In contrast, there isn’t much we know about the past of G4 and it’s a much more idealistic setting then in Avatar. Yes, ponies die with what I assume are human-esque lifespans for the exception of the Alicorns. But Friendship is Magic is a setting where the power of friendship is literal magic power that can save the day even when things look bleak. As a result it can get very sappy, but FiM is the kind of show you watch to put a smile on your face rather then go to for a multi-faceted plot. Most episodes of FiM are the kind of thing you see in a lot of other shows. But what brings most of it’s fans back even for the most overdone plots is the characters and their interactions. FiM’s lore is a lot less straight forward, and sometimes may feel not as consistent given there were so many different writers over the long span of time. That said, there is something about the series that sort of ties in heading into G5 and that’s G4’s history, and especially Alicorn lore. We don’t get a lot of either even back in G4, as the most we get is the founding of Equestria was through the Hearth’s Warming Eve story, and the knowledge that Alicorns like Celestia and Luna are at least older then 1000. Which is a huge gap compared to the Avatars that no matter how powerful, have similar mortality to our own. Throughout G4’s time, the debate about Alicorns have raged throughout the whole time even before things got really heated upon Twilight becoming an Alicorn in Magical Mystery Cure. Some went with Celestia and Luna being the only immortal Alicorns while Cadence and Twilight were somehow lesser Alicorns that aren’t immortal but maybe at least still a longer lifespan then their normal pony friends and family. Though as of Season 9, that may be turned on it’s head when in The Last Problem. Twilight eventually grows to Celestia-size as Celestia and Luna even retire to let Twilight succeed them. If Twilight is somehow a lesser Alicorn, why did she grow to Celestia’s size? Why did Celestia and Luna retire in the first place if they knew Twilight will not be as long lived as they are? Perhaps part of the reason G5 has as many questions as it does is because G4 itself created questions it never promised to answer.

That said, the implied length of Celestia and Luna’s rule still presents G5 with a problem that will be asked everywhere. Even if we go with the possibility that most of the Mane 6 have passed from old age, you still have to answer something about Twilight. If Twilight is also dead, how long did she live? Did she at least have an over-1000 year reign as Celestia did? Was perhaps Luster Dawn chosen to be her younger co-ruler if Luster herself ascended at some point? The kind of things that might actually force G5 into a corner when it comes to Alicorns despite the fact G4 never had to, especially now that Sunny may have just become one herself. This is once again, another of the traps Hasbro put the writing team through by having them put it in the same world. G5 thus not only adds questions about what happened in between the Generations, but also now has to inherit what remained unanswered in G4. That is a VERY tall task on a team that will likely just want to do their own little fun pony show. It’ll raise expectations too high, and there will be annoyed fans regardless how they spin it. Which could have all been avoided if they set it up that this was an entirely new world, or made G4 a fictional story (With all the references to it being mainly merchandise for a really meta look at things) in the G5 universe. You’d still have people complaining about it not being as good as G4 probably, but the approach they went with added more gasoline to the fire whenever G4 Vs. G5 debates happen in the MLP fandom. And inter-fandom generation fights are never fun, just ask the Pokemon and the Sonic fandoms how that turns out (Even though there’s no Generation number count for the Sonic franchise. You could say Gen 1 of Sonic was the classic era. Gen 2 was the Sonic Adventure Era. Gen 3 was the “Dark Age” Sonic 2006-Sonic Unleashed era. Gen 4 the Sonic Colors and Generations era. and Gen 5 the current Sonic Forces and Team Sonic Racing era. And then of course there’s also the different TV shows and comic books that also have their own fans that can be at each other’s throats).

There isn’t going to be an easy solution to something that will no doubt have fans on the edge on their seat even if they will be left to hang on that edge for a longtime before G5 starts to give some answers. I think I’ll at least bring up 3 things that will probably be part of the discussions of just what happened between G4 and G5

(More after the break)

1. AND THEN EVERYTHING CHANGED WHEN THE FIRE NATION AN UNKNOWN THREAT ATTACKED

With G4 being considered Ancient Equestria. It’s probably safe to assume this is at least 1,000 years after G4. And 1,000 or more is a really, really, long time. Where anything could of happened, including *GASP* a villain actually winning at some point (Or at least, did some lasting damage even if they were ultimately defeated). Though I think even with that possibility, there has to be a sense that the villain didn’t defeat the Mane 6 while the other members aside from Twilight were still alive. If Twilight was at some point defeated. Perhaps the villain struck when Twilight was most vulnerable. You could also have it that Twilight somehow sacrificed herself to defeat a large threat. She saved Equestria one last time, but at the cost of even her long-lasting alicorn life. With the populace left on their own to continue life without Twilight, but the loss of their longtime leader too much for Equestria. Thus a slow decline happened.

As for who the threat was it’ll probably be a while if we ever know. Perhaps the real Grogar showed up at some point and was truly a harrowing threat to deal with. Or something entirely new. Maybe it wasn’t even a villain, but a catastrophic natural disaster. Whatever it is, if this is the case. We’d have to deal with the sad thought of something being too much for even Twilight to handle

2. TWILIGHT BECAME DEPRESSED/JADED AFTER HER FRIENDS PASSED. POSSIBLY EVIL TOO?

This would basically be the cliche sadfic ending. Where after everyone of the Mane 6 has passed. Twilight just never felt the same afterward. Though I do feel like there is the slight counterpoint that maybe Twilight would still have Celestia and/or Luna (maybe, again we’ve never ever gotten full confirmation of how long Alicorns live. Just assured that it’s more then 1000 years) and she’d most certainly still have a full grown Spike and any of her friends descendants. Death is always a sad reality, but you have to wonder if Twilight would have prepared herself by the time that comes. Twilight would have not gone as far as she did without the rest of the Mane 6. But while I’m sure it would be a tearjerking moment, it’s not like Twilight wouldn’t have other friends she made throughout the generations. Celestia and Luna also must of gone through the same thing living for more then 1000 years, yet they seem pretty fine. So while the subject of “immortality blues” is prime for sadfic material in the fandom. It feels like there’d have to be more nuance then that, if this were the reason the time between G4 and G5 led into each other.

Supposedly, this theory is picking up some form of steam. To the point that a head canon is rolling around is that it was actually Twilight who sealed the magic away in the first place for one reason or another. Essentially making Twilight, in a huge plot twist, a villain in G5 or at the very least someone who took the magic with them into some form of Limbo very similar to Starswirl and the other founders during the Season 7 finale. I… personally don’t know how I’d feel about that. They’d have to be very careful with the execution of such a twist. And I’d want more nuance then simply Twilight getting sad about the deaths of her friends. At the very least, it’d likely eventually get to a point where this villainous incarnation of Twilight is reformed and probably becomes a recurring character from then on. But the writers will have to tread very carefully if this is the direction they take.

3. G5 IS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT UNIVERSE/TIMELINE. JUST FOR THE MOST PART THE MAJOR EVENTS OF "ANCIENT EQUESTRIA" STILL HAPPENED

Perhaps this last one really gets into a more desperate side to deflect any possibility that the ending of G4 could of deteriorated into what the world becomes at the start of G5. I know there will be plenty that will be too frustrated with the lack of satisfactory answers that they annoy people in the comment sections, getting into situations where sometimes the only answer to those people will be others that just want to watch G5 as a fun show with a “cope”, “read a history book”, or “deal with it”. But honestly, there can be a case here. As I mentioned in my thoughts in the movie. There are visual details on characters and/or lore that while they may seem minor, to the point that even if they do ever answer important questions such as what caused magic to disappear and/or what happened to Alicorns like Twilight. That the staff may ignore completely because they think it’s too small of a detail to bother including. But the most nitpicky fan can and will latch on small excuses into why it can’t be the same.

Let’s begin with the one-sided Cutie Mark. Again, while it’s true that previous generations made this a tradition. And it was only on one side on the G4 toys as well, as the actual reason it was on both sides in the G4 show was because it was easier for the flash animators. That said, it’s still a big pony design inconsistency. Because regardless of it was only to make things easier, it became a staple because of how long G4 lasted. So it was still so weird to see early screenshot and artwork of G5 characters with grown ponies with no mark. When that wasn’t possible in G4, as it turned out it was because the one-sided cutie mark returned. But one side as opposed to both sides is still a significant difference. Similarly, the horns and wingtips being a different color then the coat may also be a significant difference. Of course I know it can be just waved off as art style difference, as the art direction is no longer based on what Faust wanted the ponies to look like. It’s still plausible enough for someone to discredit it as truly in continuity with G4. Cause even for those that are on the side of “More then 1000 years is a long time, anything could of happened” it’s a lot harder to argue against inconsistencies such as cutie marks only being on one side unless they switch gears to the meta explanation of “G4’s double sided cutie mark was not intentional, at least at first”. But from what most people saw in the G4 show, G4 ponies had marks on both sides. And the G5 ponies don’t. It’s again, quite nitpicky. But it’s enough to start a case that at the very least, the ancient past of G4 is not 100% the same G4 we saw in the show.

Speaking of not the same G4 we saw in the show, another possibility is that G5 actually came out of an alternate timeline. Where perhaps the last two seasons did not happen. If perhaps it’s a timeline where major events in the show either ended anywhere between the end of Season 4 or the end of Season 7, then it starts to feel a little more possible. (Supposedly, the tree of harmony in it’s Season 9 form that might counteract it. But then again it had none of the treehouse architecture and was all wood. Which ironically may lead into it leaning more that the G4 show isn’t the same continuity). If the events of the Friendship School nor everything else that leads to the ending we saw in The Last Problem. It’d be a lot more palatable because the pretty much implied world peace ending with non-ponies in the mix included is discounted. There’d still be questions even in this scenario, like did Celestia and Luna still retire in this timeline then. And regardless if they did or not, the show would still be burdened with the question of what happened to the Alicorns. But it’d at least solve the most pressing question with the peace of The Last Problem being squandered. Because perhaps in this timeline, the Mane 6 never went that far. Perhaps it would imply some sort of indirect failure in that case. But this is perhaps a scenario they had a similar foreign policy as Celestia did. Not really hostile to anyone, but not intervening even in ways that could be helpful. Heck, if we go far enough in saying that G5\s G4 (As confusing as that may sound) was different from what we saw in Friendship is Magic, what if there were differences even early on for one reason or another? With how vague the connection is, we only know that the Mane 6 were friends and Twilight still became a princess at some point. From there. potentially a lot of other things may have gone differently other then that.

Again, saying G5 is a completely different universe/timeline is probably always going to sound like a desperate way for people who cannot possibly believe the ending of G4 eventually led to the start of G5. And I’d understand why that’ll annoy people who just want to watch the G5 series on it’s own merits. But it really wouldn’t be entirely the fans to blame for that attitude. G4 lasted a whole decade, many got attached to the characters/world we saw that had about the happiest ending it could possibly be. It should naturally make people unhappy that in a few ways it’s stomping over a happy ending for this fantasy world that many watched to escape from the realities of the real world.

Even with the long time allotted of 1000+ years or more, that’s made complicated by the implied long lives of the Alicorns from G4. Only opening up that can of worms further by seemingly making Sunny an alicorn. There’s a debate on whether this form is permanent, but if it’s NOT permanent. That arguably adds yet another addition to the list of reasons it may fall out of continuity. The only time we had a temporary Alicorn transformation (outside of Animation errors, or dream sequences like Big Mac’s) was when Cozy was an Alicorn after receiving some of the magic from Grogar’s bell. But even in that case, Cozy’s wings were not more like a glowy hologram like Sunny’s wings seem to be. And even if it is permanently on Sunny now, the design for Alicorns is too different. Adding onto the one-sided cutie marks, and different colored wings and horns. So the G5 writers may actually be stuck in a lose/lose situation when it comes to Alicorns after the ending of the movie. I think whether Sunny is permanently an Alicorn or not, they may not elaborate enough about it. And it’ll be among the headaches in the comment section (Though may at least be a reprieve from the political discussions G5 are going to have on occasion I imagine.)

Hasbro chose to try to say this is the same Equestria, and a new show needs conflicts to solve. But from the perspective of some G4 fans… it forces a world they loved, to get torn down into arguably a more divided world then even the Hearth’s Warming tale. Which said tale seems to have been implied to be from before Princess Celestia and Luna were around (Based on the lore of the unicorns being the one to raise the sun and moon) and thus yes. Somehow, if everything that happened in G4 is canon to G5. Then the world peace in The Last Problem in just a thousand years or so become worse then even Celestia’s sole rule.

RESPONDING TO “READ A HISTORY BOOK”

I’ve mentioned before, you can try to point to World History to point why this is a realistic take. But again, we don’t have an ancient civilization from 1000 years ago that we look up to as the pinnacle of peace in the world (Like I said, the Golden age of Ancient Greece and/or Rome still had slavery and brutal wars). That has literally never happened. What was shown in the Last Problem very much looked like it was that for Equestria. I feel it’s a terrible interpretation of time, especially in regards to the context that the leaders of Equestria tend to live for at least more then 1000 years to imply things would just go backward like that.

CONCLUSION

The movie on it’s own merits is a good start for the generation, though at the same time. It’s going to have some hard questions that’ll often be no-win situations for the writers. They can choose to ignore the G4 questions, understandably trying to tiptoe around as many cans of worms as possible which would allow them to do whatever the heck they want with G5. Maybe even getting a few stragglers frustrated with no answers to just shrug and continue watching anyway if the show entertains them enough. Or they can certainly try to at least give some answers on the biggest questions (What happened to the magic, and/or what was the fate of G4’s alicorns) but risk having an answer that just adds even more questions.

The movie is a decent start for a new generation if you only view it as a pilot for a new series, but if you view it as a sequel to Friendship is Magic. There are certainly problematic issues with that currently. Maybe the special in Spring, or the eventual Series will cover some of this but it does leave fans waiting a while for answers that they’re not promised to get, or at least not as quickly as they’d like. Remember when I mentioned that I may view some of this similarly to how I was about Starlight Glimmer after her sudden redemption at the end of Season 5? With many questions I wanted to know about Starlight before I could really accept her as a recurring character? (And not really fully coming into terms with her until I expanded on her myself in a story for I Dream of Twilight Sparkle) This may be how I have to view the connection of G4 and G5.

They can go one of two routes: At least try to give as much of a clear explanation as possible. Even if it’s one that doesn’t exactly answer everything, at least giving a good try may help with those who have questions remaining in relation to G4. If instead however, they go the Season 6 Starlight route of just about ignoring all the questions fans have, it’ll make things frustrating for many. At least with Starlight, she wasn’t the major focus in every episode. That said, Season 6’s job was to endear us more to her reformed character. Now with G5’s setup, it may be running well into a corner where they must try to answer what happened in between G4 and G5 or else you end up making a lot of fans lukewarm or worse to your series. Starlight’s reformation and then lack of ability of Season 6 to explain more about Starlight to us was a divisive moment. And G5 involving G4 brings over the same kind of feeling but on a larger scale because now it’s in the very premise of the generation’s plot, it’s less avoidable compared to one character. Because even when it comes to episodes that will not further the plot and it’s just a fun friendly moment between the members of the mane 5, this movie is how they met and thus the not fully explained premise would always be looming over like a large shadow. It probably doesn’t help that they’re basically starting with a reformed Starlight-esque moment when it comes to introducing it’s premise AND on top of that something similar although certainly with at least a lot less backlash then with Alicorn Twilight since it came so soon. Though I do have to think there will be people who think this was way too soon to be ascending Sunny, since at least we got to see Twilight’s journey to Alicornhood (Even if you weren’t a fan of the episode she ascended in). Sunny arguably does earn her Alicornhood through implied years of working to unite the ponies. But it can still feel too soon when you had 2 1/2 seasons worth of episodes before Twilight did, while Sunny did so within one movie.

Someone’s ultimate thoughts on G5 might end up being what they are looking for in this new generation. If they’re looking for just about everything new. The movie provides plenty of that with new characters, new locations, and a more modernized world compared to G4 Equestria (Even if G4 Equestria had it’s own fair share of electronics it looked like, such as video game machines). If you’re in this for the G4 references. Aside from the very beginning of the movie, you’re kind of stuck doing a where’s waldo for most of the movie. And no guarantees you’ll get much more then that later. As I said in the trailer thoughts, the G4 stuff could very much be just Hasbro trying to bake it’s cake and eat it too. With a world that feels like it should be it’s own thing, but they didn’t want to commit entirely to that. So they shoehorn G4 in as the ancient past without giving a proper explanation to how point A (the end of G4) got to point B (the start of G5). It’s only been about a week since the movie premiered, but there is just so much to digest. And for those looking for answers to the G4 elephant in the room, may feel like they get nothing but metaphorical tummy aches for a long time.

I’ll end this off by having a message to both people who already feel like they’ll be fans of G5, as well as people like me who were fans of G4 and have concerns about where G5 may be doing to it’s legacy.

For the G5 fans, as I mentioned in the trailer thoughts. I still hope that it turns out ultimately good. I don’t know where things will go from here but the G5 movie taking in context that it’s basically a really long series premiere, had some genuinely enjoyable moments. At the same time, I hope anyone in the G5 fanbase can try to understand why G4 fans have the concerns that they do. I’ll repeat, G4 lasted a decade and was the absolute peak of MLP’s popularity. There will be a lot of people attached to that world, and understandably upset about the implication that it got torn down into how the world is at the start of G5. If they’re really annoying about it, I can understand why you couldn’t hold the urge to snap at them to “Get over it” just try not to snap at the ones who are just asking curiously. I’m personally not going to spam comment threads with “THIS DOESN’T FIT WITH G4!” or “HASBRO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS PLEASE”, but I would be lying if I were to say I’m not just as curious about what those type of fans want to know too.

And as for G4 fans like me, if G5 ever upsets you in some fashion. It’s ok to stop watching and just stay quiet whenever you find yourself in a conversation about G5 and only participate in G4 matters in the fandom. This is a natural evolution of a fandom’s lifecycle where eventually a direction a franchise is taken to a place some others don’t like. So you’re only left to mainly talk with those who prefer an older generation and/or incarnation. Just because G5 has started and even though Hasbro says it’s the same world as G4. You can still do G4 content by itself and ignore G5. If you still have the inclination to do stuff with G4, do it. Generation 5 is not stopping people from still drawing the G4 characters, or writing more stories about them, or even if you don’t feel you’re that creative. Support artists who are still drawing G4 ponies, and/or rewatch some of your favorite episodes of Friendship is Magic that give you a smile. MLP has lasted since the 80s, and while for the most part to Hasbro it’s to sell toys. Toys, and the shows surrounding them’s purpose is to make the people watching or playing with them smile. From the little girls in the 80s to the much more diverse both gender-wise and age-wise fandom that came out of G4. The cute ponies are supposed to make us happy, and it’s ok to get back into a comfort zone if perhaps a different part of Ponies don’t give you the same feeling or even upset you in some way. Also as a vice versa to my message to G5 fans, try as best you can not to provoke those enjoying G5. If the G5 movie and/or episodes makes them as happy as your favorite G4 episodes/movies you should let them be. Many of us had to deal with that crap just for daring liking a pony show at all early on in the fandom. Try not to add to the toxicity as best you can. G4 is not going to be forgotten, the fact Hasbro decided to try to make it in the same universe actually has the side effect of making sure of that. Cause maybe you have fans that enter the MLP franchise through G5 curious about what happened in the past. And thus, they can be led to watch the previous generation. New G5 fans could potentially also become new G4 fans and friends. In other words, friendship… is still magic!

#mlp #my little pony #g5 #mlp g5 #netflix #my little pony the next generation #my little pony movie #generation 5 #g4 #mlp g4 #generation 4

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kyouxa · 3 years

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Chaos Lineage: Game Prologue

This particular game is described as 'a painful vampire love story that takes place in a “what-if” parallel world.' Meanwhile, this game actually takes place between Dark Fate and Lost Eden. Enjoy!

Place: Secret room — Interior lights

Karlheinz: Checkmate.

Socrates: … !? Why is it that you win again… ?

Karlheinz: I have triumphed once again.

Socrates: Kch...

Karlheinz: I truly enjoyed myself tonight. It was an intense match until the very end.

Socrates: Are you leaving now?

Karlheinz: I most certainly still have to carry my plan forward.

Socrates: So you are quitting while we are still ahead?

Karlheinz: I do wish to continue this game of ours.

But I know you are aware of me being unable to do so, my friend.

Socrates: Yes, I do know that. And that is why it makes me impatient.

Karlheinz: Do not say that, my friend. My long-cherished desire is to create a new life…

And in order for me to achieve this, Adam and Eve are necessary.

Socrates: I know…

You have been keeping your eyes on finding Eve for a very long time already. She might just be a normal girl, but she does carry a special heart inside her.

Her role was to fall in love with a demon, and she fulfilled it.

Karlheinz: And after this, the vampire chosen and loved by Eve… will become Adam.

And this said moment is finally about to finally arrive.

I rewind time this many times and I have been trying all possible varieties…

And now success is finally before my eyes.

My friend, I knew having you as my conversation companion would not make me feel bored in the slightest.

Socrates: How reluctant…

Karlheinz: What, I am sure we will see each other in our next lives again.

Socrates: ...You are right. We will see each other in our next lives.

Karlheinz: I will now start arranging the final preparations… therefore, I will excuse myself.

*Karlheinz disappears*

Socrates: Karlheinz… we will no longer see each other in this life… hm?

Monologue

A vampire called Adam. And a human girl called Eve.

If the two of them unite in marriage and give birth to a new life, Karlheinz’ plan will, without a doubt, finally be fulfilled.

...But the price of fulfilling this, will be losing my friend.

After this, I will be awfully desolate. Yes, I will be very lonely indeed…

Suddenly, I turned my eyes back to the table.

On the chessboard, the white and black chess pieces were still aligned. Those are traces of the game I enjoyed with my friend just a moment ago.

Place: Secret room — Interior lights

Socrates: My friend, I wonder if that man, who has been chosen as Adam, is certainly worthy of his role?

Monologue

There must have been a lot of candidates to be Adam. But was it truly inevitable to choose him?

If everyone knew Eve under equal conditions… would we not be able to deduce the true Adam in doing so?

...In the end, I am still not convinced that he should become Adam.

Therefore, I should experiment on my own, in order to convince myself.

Place: Secret room — Interior lights

Socrates: This should become a fighting game, in order for them to get the piece called Eve. The chess board will then become their world, which I will create with my magic—

I will confine the candidates for Adam as the chess pieces with Eve together.

Adam might have been chosen already, but it is more than easy to alter their memories.

Their memories, abilities and positions — why do I not try and put them under equal circumstances as well?

An experiment to see which piece will end up truly obtaining Eve at the very end…

In this fabricated miniature garden, they shall fight until only one piece remains.

Now, let the game begin. Until they may reach a checkmate.

Or… until someone deviates from the rules of this game.

Until only one last piece remains standing, or until someone ends up breaking the rules…

There is no other way to get out of this experiment—

Monologue

I wonder where this place is? The only thing I know is that I’m laying in complete darkness.

It’s as if my mind is blank, even if I try to trace my memories, I can’t remember anything.

And then, all of the sudden, someone’s shadow appears in front of me. This person, who appears to be a beloved and nostalgic one, is watching me with tender eyes.

But I don’t know who they are. Just who are you?

And even more importantly, who am I?

As if responding to my question, a man’s voice resonates from nowhere—

Place: ???

???: Good morning, Eve. Do you know who you are?

*enter MC’s name*

???: No, that is not your name, Eve. That is your real name.

Yui: Eve… so that’s my name…

Monologue

“Eve”… that name sounds somehow awfully familiar to me. As I moved my mouth, I repeated the name with each breath I took.

Place: ???

Yui: Eve… Eve… Eve…

Monologue

As I repeated the name, which is supposed to be mine, it gradually ingrained itself in my mind.

Place: ???

???: It is about time for you to wake up.

The story, you are taking place in, starts after the supreme ruler dies.

And soon, three different families will start a battle for you.

Monologue

Those prophetic words of wisdom he just said… I will cherish them as if they’re from the man I don’t remember the name of...

I will never doubt his words. After all, I still don’t know what this so-called “battle” will be about to begin with.

Which means, this said indestructible fiction has to eventually become true.

Place: ???

???: Let there be light...

Monologue

The same moment he said that, a ray of light appeared above my head. It might’ve been a weak one, but it wasn’t an illusion.

I tried reaching for that light.

And when I did so, I heard the beginning of a new game.

Place: Church — Inside

Yui: Nn...

(Ah, wait… where am I...?)

(There are huge statues lined up… they have the shapes of horses and towers, they actually look a lot chess pieces)

(And there are some beautiful stained glass windows in front of me too…)

(This building appears to be quite old, but it's not in bad conditions, it seems to be rather well maintained)

It gives off some kind of sacred atmosphere…

(If that’s so, could this place be… a church… ?)

(And if it is, was I sleeping on the… altar just now?)

But why am I even in this place to begin with… ?

*church bell rings*

Yui: Kyaaa!?

Was that the church bell… ? That really scared me…

???: It appears as if the seal has finally been broken. You made me wait quite a long time for your arrival.

Yui: Pardon… ?

Man with glasses: It was just as the folklore said, although your timing is quite inappropriate, but this does not matter.

As long as you were here in this church, there should be no mistake.

Yui: W-Who are you… ?

Yui: (He has a good appearance and he acts very polite, but the sharp look in his eyes is really scary)

Man with glasses: I will be leaving my introductions for later. Unfortunately, there is no time for me to do so now. You will have to come with me to our mansion first.

Yui: What do you mean by “mansion”... ? No, where even is this place anyway? And for what reason am I here—

Man with glasses: I see, it appears… as if “you do not know anything”.

*Reiji comes closer*

Yui: Kyaa!? L-Let me go!

Man with glasses: For now, I am unaware of you either acting or you speaking the truth.

But no matter what it is, that does not change the fact that you will be coming with me.

Yui: (Is he kidnapping me!? If so, I have to run away! But, the strength of his arm is so strong that I can’t seem to escape… ngh)

???: I can’t believe you’d ever do something this cruel to a girl.

*throws dagger*

Man with glasses: — Ngh!?

Man with fedora: You ended up narrowly dodging it just now. As expected from you, Reiji.

Yui: (Did a dagger just fly past me!? And the person who threw it was him… ?)

Reiji: Haa… as expected, there obviously are others who thought about the same thing as I did.

Not only did Laito, the messenger of the Violets, come here… but you also brought Kou along with you.

Kou: Ahha, so you did discover me. And here I thought I did a great job hiding my presence.

Yui: (Now there’s another person holding a dagger in front of me…)

(So the one currently holding my arm is called Reiji-san… and if I understood it correctly, those next to me are Laito-san and Kou-san?)

Kou: Say, can’t you simply give Eve to us? Carla-kun really wants her, you know.

Reiji: I refuse to do so. That is most certainly because I will be the next successor to become the supreme ruler.

Laito: Scarlet’s eldest son is really stingy, hm? Eve-chan’s surely thinking so too, right?

Yui: Eve…

(Oh, yeah, that’s my name… how come I forget that just now?)

(These people are the ones who are going to fight for Eve… for me, to be precise)

Reiji: If possible, I would have liked to finish this peacefully, but it cannot be helped if you are going to obstruct my way…

You should step back a little.

Yui: Ah…

*Reiji draws swords*

Reiji: Then I will be your opponent.

Laito: Oh? Now, isn’t that something? You’re behaving like a knight wanting to protect the princess.

Kou: True, true. After all, it’s already been decided that Eve will come to our mansion.

Say, Eve. That’s correct, right?

Yui: E-Even if you tell me that, I still don’t know anything about you…

Kou: You could learn plenty of us if you’d come with us then. With us, to our mansion, what do you think?

Yui: (This can’t be real, just what did I get myself into…)

*someone grabs Yui*

Yui: Ouch… !?

(Did someone just pull my arm!?)

???: The only one you’re going with is Yours Truly himself. You’ve got no other option than that anyway.

I’ll promise to treat you tenderly if you come with me. At least until I get bored, of course.

Yui: (Now there’s another person I don’t know… !)

Laito: Eh, you’ve come here too, Ayato?

Reiji: The third son of the Orange family… so in the end, it appears as if all of you invited themselves here, hm?

Eve has merely awakened, and the three families have already come here.

Yui: (Three families… ?)

Ayato: The seal of the church has been broken, so it’s obvious that I’d come to check out the situation.

And it was the right choice to come in here after all. It’s just exactly as the tradition says.

Yui: (Tradition, he says…)

Kou: “After the death of the supreme ruler, the seal of the church will be broken.”

“And if the sleeping Eve is woken up by a kiss, a new way will be open for a new supreme ruler”... isn’t that right?

Laito: It’s at least as the tradition of the sleeping princess says.

Yui: (A seal… tradition… and a supreme leader? I don’t understand, what are they talking about… ?)

Reiji: Apparently, you seem as if you do not understand any of what we are discussing indeed.

Kou: You’re acting as if you weren’t even aware of being Eve.

Ayato: Eh? Gimme a break already. Just how long do you think I’ve been waiting for you to come here!?

Laito: Well, she has been sleeping all this time, so it can’t be helped, right?

Seems as if we have to slowly fill you in with what’s necessary to know after this.

But in order for us to do that, we first of all have to get you out of this place.

Yui: Nn... !

(Did the atmosphere between those four just change… ?)

(They’re glaring at each other, and it almost feels as if their eyes are glowing. It might just be my imagination, but I feel as if their eyes are shining bright red…)

(No, more importantly, don’t tell me that the weapons they’re holding are real…)

Reiji: Shall we begin then?

Ayato: Tch, you’re finally speaking my language.

Kou: I wonder who’ll be the one obtaining Eve?

Laito: I guess this is the beginning of our battle—

Yui: Battle… !? Don’t tell me you’re seriously going—

*swords clash*

Yui: (The four of them are really clashing their swords with each other… no, I’m wrong—)

(I can only see three people fighting. Which means, one of them is missing… !)

*someone grabs Yui*

Yui: Kyaa!? W-Who is it? Please… let me go!

Monologue

Before I even became aware of it, there was a shadow approaching me.

I tried my very best to resist, but “his” arm wouldn’t let go of me for even a second.

I knew I got herewith captured by somebody.

And the one who caught me was—

#Diabolik Lovers #diabolik lovers translation #chaos lineage translation #chaos lineage #rejet #diabolik lovers chaos lineage #diabolik lovers reiji #reiji sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kou mukami #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers chaos lineage translation #Diabolik Lovers game #Diabolik Lovers game #otome game translation #otome game

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alpaca-writes · 3 years

Text

Mystics, Chapter 7

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by Lyrem, everything seems to be going well- their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as they think...

Directory: [chapter one] [chapter two] [chapter three] [chapter four] [chapter five] [chapter six]

Tag list: @myst-in-the-mirror

CW: leg injury, knife whump,

---

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE GODS OF JUST AND UNJUST MEN

The man keeled over just as the darkness had engulfed him and the sensation of ground had returned beneath his feet. Ragged and shaking, he cried out in agony, clutching his right leg that poured deep crimson blood staining his fingers. A soft blue light emanated from a tunnel above his head, showering him in a beckoning glow.

Beside him, a woman formed from the drifting darkness of the abyss. Her black hair was pulled off to one side in multitudes of smooth braids that reached her hips. She knelt down in her simple white linen gown, and touched the man on the shoulder. He stared up at her, his face soaked with more tears than rain or sweat.

“Th-They don’t… They don’t remember me,” he stammered shakily.

The Goddess hushed him softly, and brought her hand down to the knife handle. She met his gaze, and searched his green eyes. He became lost in her mesmerizing essence and in one swift motion, she pulled the knife out of his thigh.

He launched onto his back, roiling in the unfathomable release of pressure in his leg. He was screaming, but the void consumed his cries until the very end.

“I gather you were unable to kill him?”

She had waited for him to stop screaming before tossing the knife down in a clatter by his head.

The man still laid on his back, caring not for the wound that was bleeding out with fearsome speed. His lower lip quivered and he closed his eyes.

“No,” he answered through gritted teeth. “He… He was in a meeting.”

The woman breathed out the last of her hope and stood over him, shaking her head.

“We don’t like excuses,” she expressed, circling him. “Lyrem is only a man, and Hades wants results. If you don’t deliver, then you don’t get to stay on Earth. Running away with another human is not what we asked of you, was it?”

He shook his head, wiping a hand over his face like he was shielding himself from the rays of her shame.

“Next time,” he said. Forcing himself to sit up, he looked at her squarely, and turned his face to stone to address the Goddess as she ought to be. “I’ll get him next time. Persephone, please send me back- I”-

“No.”

He forced on, “I’ll get him this time, I swear”-

“Ar”-

“SEND ME BACK!”

This time, his voice carried farther through the void and then it echoed back to them. He lowered his voice reactively, sensing that he had done something severely improper.

“Please… Send me back.”

Seeing his emotionally fragile form was endearing as well as tremendously unsettling. Persephone lowered herself to him as he laid there, barely supported by his one elbow. Huffing, she laid a hand against his leg. He stared into her perfectly dark eyes, trusting her once more with great effort.

“I can heal you partially,” she offered, “And with a bit of time, I’ll be able to send you back.”

“Don’t bother healing me if you can send me back now.” He argued, “Lyrem has Arch”-

“If I don’t heal you, you’ll bleed out and return here within minutes. And you will be of no use to us then. You’re a mortal, remember; dancing between worlds of life and death.” Persephone explained. Gently, she cupped his cheek with a soft, sympathetic hand. “The rules were never written for someone like you.”

He tore himself away from her grip, and gulped down the last option that he was given. He took some time, considering her words with the reverence that one would give to a wise crone.

“I don’t know how long they… Fine,” he finally agreed.

Arguing with Gods and Goddesses alike wasn’t a normal habit for him- but for now, he would take what he could get.

“But I promise you… I promise Hades… I will kill Lyrem. I’ll do it, no matter what it takes. I’ll deliver his head to you on a fucking silver plate if it means I can go back to my old life.”

“Usually, I would advise against making promises you cannot keep,” the darkness called through, washing over him. It was the voice of the Underworld; of Hades Himself. He could not be witnessed in the dark abyss, where only the dead contained the sight to see the God in His glory. The voice carried on, shaking the injured mortal to his very core as it rumbled through him like a thunder.

“But with you… I am willing to believe that there may be some hope for us all.”

Persephone blinked slowly; the words of Hades filling her soul like she had taken a breath of fresh morning air. She looked down to the human, allowing a small smile to sneak its way onto her face, as his filled with cautious determination.

-------------------

“I think I like them.”

Lyrem looked up from his two fingers of scotch whisky and smiled to the man sitting across from him in a matching orange armchair by Mystics’ storefront window. The lights of evening downtown glowed inwards, as the two of them caught up with each other. Lyrem had finished his story of the strange and annoying priest at the hospital- and the terrible treatment that his charge, Arch was receiving there.

“I thought you might,” Lyrem replied. “I’ve primed Arch with talents they’ll be able to carry forward for years and years to come.”

“And yet, you still cannot trust them to keep their memories.”

There was a twinkle in the dark eyes of his guest. Everything from his squared off top hat to his jacket and to his bejeweled cane spoke of decadence and divine tailoring. He smoothed his long black beard down to its tip with long fingers, studying his friend and regular supplier with great interest as he took his time with his response.

“I cannot be certain that they will follow me.” Lyrem admitted, taking a sip from the glass tumbler that sat in his right hand. “They are so connected with people… with life… How can one twist a mind that pure?”

“All that purity, it ends somewhere. Everyone has their limits. Goodness leaves us all in the dust eventually and your successor cannot be someone with sentimental ties. One day, even you will have to leave them behind.” The man’s pinky finger danced in the air as he raised his own glass. “Since you know, the Devil always comes to collect on her debts.”

Lyrem grunted rudely at the reminder.

“Any word on when that might be?” Lyrem asked with deepening interest in his tired face, “I know you have an ear to the abyss, Paimon. You can tell me.”

Paimon merely chuckled, and clicked his fingers. The record player began to set itself up, playing the tunes that were primed to go. The album was something picked out by Arch from the record store across town several weeks ago after they had grown tired of John Denver.

I wouldn’t want to be a chimney sweep,

All black from head to foot,

From climbing in them chimneys,

And cleaning out that soot…

“Just enjoy life, Lyrem- while you still can,” Paimon winked as he finished his glass and clunked it down. “Throw out your stoic wisdom, already, and prepare your charge for when you’re finally dead. That’s my advice.”

Sensing that Paimon was on his way out, Lyrem stopped him.

“One more thing... I suspect that a particular captive of mine has found a way out of the Labyrinth in the back room. There are no… other doorways that you neglected to mention when I purchased it off of you, are there?”

“I am leasing it to you, Lyrem.” Paimon corrected him with a shake of his head in pity. “Like all rental properties, sometimes renovations are necessary.”

Lyrem scoffed at his flippant response. But before he could say anything else, the demon had vanished from his chair.

“At least give me a bloody notice first,” Lyrem muttered to himself before finishing his glass with a final swallow. Only the melody would keep him company now.

The honey from the bee,

The shellfish from the sea,

The earth, the wind, a girl,

Someone to share these things with-

Lyrem switched off the record abruptly and then picked up the empty glasses left on the corner table. Paimon’s words rang in his head as though they were warning him. He had been sensing for quite sometime that Hekate had grown impatient with his antics. He had been given many gifts from the underworld’s many inhabitants in his short time on Earth, and as a result owed many debts; some debts simply would not be repaid in the bones of ancient Mayan sacrifices- though sometimes they did make thoughtful gifts.

Demons and divine spirits, Gods and Goddesses alike, all had some opinion on Lyrem Nomadus. At one time or another he had procured an item or two for almost all of them- whether it was something as frivolous as an original Da Vinci sketch or as dark as a human heart for ritual consumption. Whether they had a fair opinion of the man, or a sour one, they would all agree that for a human, he was really rather quite useful and would go the extra mile to make them happy as long as he was paid in full with their favors.

Lyrem was well aware that those days of retrieval and dealing were long past him now. His age was beginning to show in all the worst ways. Sentimentality becoming the latest of wrinkles in his pallid complexion. The first wrinkle of which was when he had removed memories from Maria, his one and only love, so that she could be happy living out the rest of her life with a normal human. Meeting Arch, and the strong connection that they had grown, was just another one of the latest displays of his sentimental nature. The visit from his old friend this night yet again, a reminder that his good work would soon be coming to an end.

Lyrem had to be sure that Arch was prepared by any means necessary. This meant there could not be room for distractions. There was no room for failure. If Arch was unable to make use of the gift they were given, then they would die before they even started.

“What now?” Paimon returned, sensing Lyrem call for him in short thoughts. The demon stood, leaning against his cane by the door, regarding Lyrem with a tired interest.

“I have an idea,” Lyrem postulated, placing the tumblers on the counter as he paced the store’s sale floor. “-but I will need your help to locate a shape-shifter.”

Paimon perked his head higher, as Lyrem continued hesitantly.

“One, preferably, that is extraordinarily good at acting.”

Paimon’s lips curled as his eyes danced with amusement, and nodded.

“I’m always willing to help out an old friend,” he smiled.

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daraanna · 5 years

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“Arranged Love”- Part One „Porcelain doll”

Rating: T

It’s my first fic which I translated to english so please be gentle to me >.<

The life of the successor to the imperial throne has never been easy. Every day he was awakened before twelve and dressed by his servants. Then he had to go to the audience with the father-emperor and drink tea with the mother-empress. A conversation with his sister and boring meeting with advisers. While he have to make decisions which he didn’t understand. Then he has training and finally free time. In the evening he would normally go on a sparring with Mitsuki but since his friend got married two months ago, he rarely visited the castle. In addition, he was preparing to take over the title of Lord Otokagure after his father. Still he didn’t miss him very much... His friend was very eccentric and now since he get married he always talk about his very intimate experiences with his wife and Kami both of them had really sick ideas ... Now he spent time with Shikadai-the son of the emperor's adviser and Inojin- son of the Lord from the east who was practice to become court painter. Unfortunately, both the beloved by Nara clan shogi game and drawing didn’t interest him very much. And now he couldn’t even afford to see the dance show of beautiful dancers because the entire country was mourning after the death of the Great Shogun from the Uchiha clan - a longtime friend of the emperor. Boruto have seen him several times in his life but the man made a great impression on him. It's hard to believe that someone like him died in battle. However, the month of national mourning is a huge exaggeration! He was bored with flirting with servants. They were pretty but ordinary also they often wanted something more than have a little bit fun He couldn’t afford to have an illegitimate child. His mother would be devastated . He didn’t want to get married so early too... No matter what Mitsuki said about pleasures of love making. The whole concept of marriage seemed to him very troublesome. Maybe he started to talk like Shikadai, but he really don’t want to change his life. Unfortunately, fate have completely different plans for him.

Next morning at audience with his father, he heard something terrible.

“I found a wife for you “the Emperor's words were as warm as always, but it did not make him feel any better” your wedding will be held in a castle temple in two weeks.”

"What?!" - after a long moment of shock, he said, " With who? I don’t even know her!”

"Your wife will be the daughter of the last Shogun. You know her. You spent a lot of time together as a children, when that bastard still visited me with the whole family ..."

At these words he recalled a silhouette of a little girl with short hair, dressed in a simple Yukata and pants, who for some reason chasing him with a stick everywhere... He still remembered his shock, when his mother told him that this strange boy is a girl and shouldn’t beat her. The vision of spending the rest of his life with this freak was too tragic. However, despite his insistent requests, his father didn’t change his mind. Furious, he left the emperor's chamber without waiting for permission.

...........................................

Two weeks passed too fast and there was no hope that he would be rescued from this situation. Mitsuki's advice for the wedding night definitely didn’t help. He had no intention to touch this ugly samurai-wannabe woman. The constant reminders of Shikadai how troublesome will be his duty as a married successor to the throne, they pissed him off even more. When his mother came to wake him instead of the servants on the wedding day, he began to consider whether there will be more honorable to finish himself. Despite it, he allowed for all the preparations. Both the empress and his sister supervised his dressing from time to time discussing whether the given part of the outfit fits or they can improve something. To his surprise at the end of all this, even his father came to visit him. After a moment of silence, he uttered one sentence.

“Boruto ... Please, be good to her, she has really gone through a lot lately.”

And as if nothing happened, he come out.

Shortly after, he was in front of the temple door, moments later his bride joined him. She was dressed in multi-layered richly decorated kimono and her hair was carefully collected in a complicated hairstyle. He began to wonder how long it took to prepare all this, since he was dressed for three hours. Then his eyes fell on her face and for a moment he ran out of breath. Despite all his prejudices and childhood memories, he undoubtedly had a young woman in front of him and she was extremely beautiful. She has black shiny hair and onyx eyes, gentle facial features. Her skin was covered with white paint and lips with dark red lipstick. It makes her looks like porcelain doll not living human. Her face showed no emotion, and her movements were stiff and slow. When she was at his height, she bowed and greeted him with some polite phrase, but her voice was too quiet to understand the meaning of her words. In addition, the noises coming from the temple made it even more difficult.

The ceremony seemed to last indefinitely. His thoughts rattled like crazy. Twice he forgot what he should say and almost choked with ritual sake. He had thousands of questions that could not be answered, and worse, his eyes were not able to peel off from her, but she never looked at him. Her attention was always blinded before her, which increasingly convinced him that he was not dealing with a human being. All the time the expression on her face remained unchanged until they were alone in his bedroom, when at the sight of a single futon, for a moment he could see something between disgust and fear on her face. She went to sit on the edge of the bed and her movements became even stiffer if it possible. When he approached her, he could see her hands shaking as she tried to solve her obi.

“You don’t have to ... “ he finally said to her and she froze” I mean ... We do not have to do it. We barely got to know each other.”

For the first time, he felt her eyes on her and immediately fear to look her way.

“That is tradition.” It was hard to tell if her voice was calm or sad.

“Yes, but you know, nobody can check it out ... They can’t make us to do it too... So maybe let's talk instead? "he looked in her direction, meeting with her curious look.

“You know, find out something about each other and stuff'tebassa...”

“What would you like to know? Dear husband...?” she replied but her voice collapsed at the end.

“I do not know ... Maybe what is your hobby”

Silence.

The situation got embarrassing, but it’s not like he ask about anything difficult ...

“Embroider?” why it sounded like she was not sure?

“Sounds terribly boring. “ He looked at her to meet only the back of her head. So he avoids him again. “I like horse riding and fighting with swords ... And Geisha's performances and flirt with the servan...” Before he could bite his tongue, he felt her angry look. Well, it is not wise to tell his wife about others girls. Her eyes filled with a strong disgust for a moment, but then she looked away again. It's amazing how many emotions can be expressed through the look itself. He felt shivers on his back.

“Excuse me, but I'm tired ... Can I go to get ready to sleep ...?”

“Yes ... The bath should be ready” he answered, getting up from the floor.

He turned to the food table next the door. He realized that he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, so he quickly absorbed the treats prepared by the service. When he ate, he began to consider the strange situation in which he was. Once again, recalling childhood memories, he came to the conclusion that maybe they had swapped his fiancée? After all, people don’t change that much. Although this woman wasn’t at all the perfect plan to spend the rest of his life. He didn’t know how to get along with her, and her aura reminded him about her father. He was shivering again ... At least she was pretty ... When he finished eating dessert, he went to the lower floor to take a bath in hot springs.

.........................................

After returning to the room, he found his wife sleeping on the left bedside and for a moment remembered the of Inojins’ story about time, when he saw how his mother could change nasty women to beauty one with make-up. As quietly as he could, he slipped into his place and laid on his back, feeling some fear to look left. Maybe it was the answer to all of this? Perhaps the beauty of his bride was made by careful make-up artist's work? Turning to his wife, he closed one eye as if it would protect it from something. However, the picture in front of him surprised him again. Of course her skin was not porcelain-white, but it was very pale, certainly brighter than his. The shape of the face did not change, however, after removing many layers of wedding clothes, it seemed more slender. Her ebony hair, now bound together in a loose ponytail, wrapped her figure. Few strands shaded her forehead. Her eyelashes were long and thick and her lips, without red lipstick was pastel pink and full. They looked very kissable...

He swallowed.

"I will get crazy with her," he sighed, extending his hand toward her. Gently, he brushed her hair back behind her ear, looking at her again. Her body language was completely different than it was when she was awake. Her muscles were relaxed. He could even see the shadow of a smile on her lips. She looked charming and innocent, so much younger than in make-up... Now he remembered that in fact, he was a year older than her. Talking to her earlier had the impression of dealing with someone from the generation his parents. He felt a strange feeling in his chest. He didn’t know what she was dreaming about at the moment, but she certainly took it better than reality.

The reality she will spend by his side. Wanting to free himself from these thoughts, he turned to the other side and try to fall asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he found only an empty space next to him...

So.... Uh.... I hope I translate it a little bit better than google tlanslator... or at least not worse than it...

These fic was inspired by great fanfic Sunrise written by Amraklove

prequel next part>

#borusara #boruto uzumaki #sarada uchiha #Naruto #historical au #Isillcantspeakenglishforgaveme #sasusaku #naruhina

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mystieres · 5 years

Text

i saw one of my favorite cosplayers cosplay near along with mello, so i decided to look him up in the wiki. i read until his personality (and spoiled myself in the middle of the show), and his worldview and love of puzzles got me interested in the anime. i decided to watch it. so i finished death note a few days ago and i was nothing short of amazed and impressed by the story. here are my thoughts, and most likely unpopular opinions that oppose the ones i have seen on youtube fan videos after watching it, which i will try to keep as impartial as possible.

light was intriguing for a main character. i didn’t like him as a person who got corrupted by the power of the death note. his hubris, and the way he would go through all means to protect his pride irritated me, but i like how he developed in the series. he’s not one of the main characters i normally see in anime, and while i never really agreed with his actions and his god delusions, the character was interestingly morally ambiguous, and i found the ending tragic. he started and grew up as a near-perfect character - intelligent, diligent, talented, good-looking - he was all one could ask for in a person. and basing on both observations and experience, these traits altogether would give someone an unhealthy amount of pride. one would not even need all traits to exhibit such. he would not have been morally skewed if he had not stumbled upon the notebook, and his pride would not have reached such high amounts. he had everything, maybe even too much, as a main character. he didn’t need anything else. in fact, he had things to get rid of.

one of the most tragic things to see is a man crumbling, not knowing how far down he will fall, because he had been at the top all throughout.

in the ending we see him stumbling, rolling in madness, running in an awkward gait. personally it was the only time i really felt pity for him, although i should have pitied him the moment he got a hold of the death note.

the main difference between L and light is that light exudes an air of charisma and hubris (that later on led to his downfall), and in turn used this to manipulate others around him for his own reasons, doing such for his own ideology for which he believed was the greater good (i had correctly guessed that one of the anime’s themes was hubris and its consequences). this led light to thinking that he had the upper hand when rem killed watari and L. it resulted in the deletion of everything L had investigated so far, and the passing on of the investigation to L’s successors.

a lot of people like L. L was extraordinarily talented and intelligent, and some say that he was more intelligent than light. for now let us assume that he was, at least, on the same level of intelligence as light. as the existence of the death note is something i would call supernatural, it was impressive how L managed to deduce that light yagami was kira basing solely on observations, despite not having decisive evidence. in short, due to light getting protection from the shinigami, especially knowing that one is in love with a human, L was driven into a corner (or so light thought) resulting in him being unable to retrieve decisive evidence. we therefore must understand that he and mello were chosen not to replace L, but to succeed him, to continue what he has been doing.

i understand how distraught people might have been in seeing a beloved character die. L was very endearing. but it’s just not right for people to dislike near (with mello receiving collateral damage, i presume), to call him a washed-out replacement of L. i don’t get why people dislike near. L had prepared both him and mello to continue wherever he left off. he knew that solving cases had consequences, but he would stop at nothing to get the puzzle solved, even to the point of having people solve it after his death. near was important in changing the plot and consequently completing the story despite his means of achieving it.

his detachment was necessary in battling someone with a high amount of hubris. his first line was something a lot of people wouldn’t like, no matter how true it was, but it showed a certain level of straightforwardness and detachment despite L’s death. perhaps he had already prepared for such a situation beforehand. people listened to near, because they didn’t listen to L at first, and now his successor was saying the same thing. he used L’s legacy as a distraction, and while others may see it as wasteful, we are told that the people rioting at the spk hq were nothing but dumb and blind followers, easily distracted by money. he admitted that he would not have won were it not for mello sacrificing his life (something that was completely the latter’s decision) to have mikami retrieve the real death note. and he didn’t get lucky in finding x-kira, he didn’t deduce that mikami was x-kira simply by looking at a television - no - you’re watching an anime that placed emphasis on the main character taking a potato chip and eating it for the sake of dramatic effect. apparently the manga was more in-depth with the investigation after L’s death, i will be looking into that soon (the anime was 25 episodes for the first half, and 11 episodes for the second half, one being a recap in the middle. the manga is around 108 chapters, iirc, and the second half begins at chapter 59, making it a more evenly balanced). he admitted that he and mello, separately, weren’t as good as L in terms of skill. but as they were chosen to succeed L, they were the ones who ended up exposing light. no matter how much people may dislike them just because they’re not L or don’t live up to him. those weren’t their purposes. they mainly really had to expose light as kira with decisive evidence, and continue solving cases as the new L.

near and mello are great characters, they meet in extremes, two parts of a whole. the former is logically driven, calm, and rational, to the point that he would prefer to sit back and speculate, but leads the viewers to both know and understand what’s happening beyond simple events. the latter is proactive, doing what is necessary in order to achieve what he needs, even if he had to sacrifice his life to do so, leading things to progress in the story. were they to work together, we would get nothing more than a repetition of the first half, something the authors avoided by introducing a third player.

i don’t understand why people dislike the second half of the story. it seemed necessary and appropriate. even L’s death was. no matter how much i hated it, and the succession seemed so. it made everything fall into place. i’m trying to say this as impartially as possible. an ending where L exposes light as kira would have been the most favored one, and to me, the most predictable and cliche. a lot of people would have liked that. a lot of people would have gotten so much satisfaction from it. another possible ending would be where everything the police, L, and the spk is in vain, and light becomes close to achieving a godlike state, but i believe that the intention of the writers is to not romanticize such a twisted ideology of ridding the world of criminals for the greater good.

ps. i will not say that light yagami becomes a god, because in the end, no matter how perfect he may be, he is powerless and on the same level as other human beings without the notebook (a fact made clear by near in the last episode).

#not much this is just a little rant about death note and how people apparently hate the second half and near #spoilers #i know that ohba made near less likable as the story progressed but sorry i just like him and his quirks

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skylain · 7 years

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This image right here perfectly sums up what I love about gaming, and why it’s such an incredible and immersive experience, if done well.

This is Arx Fatalis, the first game created by Arkane Studios (Dark Messiah, Dishonored, Prey 2017), formerly Looking Glass Studios. These guys knew how to make an incredible immersive sim, even back in the early days of such concepts, when only a handful existed. Arx Fatalis was a spiritual successor to the Ultima Underworld series (created by the legendary Warren Spector, of Deus Ex fame), and was released in 2002.

Arx allows the player to tell and craft their own story through its large and intricate world, playing out much like a dungeon crawling DnD experience, but in the first person with realtime combat. Not quite as elegant as Dark Messiah, but far more honed that something like Morrowind. You begin in a goblin prison with no idea who you are, or what your purpose is. You eventually break out, and begin on a quest to reach the city of Arx.

The game offers an incredible amount of freedom, especially for its time. And with such freedom, comes consequences for your actions, and it is here that my story unfolds, and begins to lead us towards this image you see above.

After fighting my way through the goblin kingdom and reaching the highest level of the underground network created within the lore, I come across a guard fortress, and a local tavern. Naturally, I stop by the tavern, taking care to pet the dog outside, and share some of my provisions with him; cooked ribs! He appreciated it greatly, and followed me into the bar. I began making my way around, chatting with patrons, discovering a door that was barred to me unless I spoke a certain password, and good times. I also came across a goblin that I sprung from prison a little while earlier. He was a decent chap, albeit drunk. He didn’t believe in the current goblin ways of sacrificing humans to Akbaa, and was imprisoned for it. He clearly had no love for what his kind had turned into, and gladly signed some false papers for me in repayment for his earlier freedom. I was now free to move about the goblin kingdom undisturbed. I thanked him, and went to the bar. The barmaid seemed more interested in my coin than me, fair enough. I slipped behind the bar to see what I could find, and had struck the motherload.

At that time, my provisions were fairly meager, and enemies tough; I needed all I could get. Cheese, bread, meat, vegetables, and wine overflowed from the bar and its storerooms. Thinking I could get away with such actions, I began to ransack all I could see. At first, I was met with no issue, so I kept at it. When I was nearly halfway through, the barmaid began to scream at me to stop at once, and put my stolen items back. I mocked her, ignored her warnings, and kept at it. But she and the rest of the patrons had had enough. I was a thief, and had to be dealt with. She screamed in fear, and all of the men present (including my goblin friend!) drew their blades, and came right for me in my cramped position behind the bar. Knowing there was no other way to handle this, I slew the barmiad that stood in my path, cutting her head clean off, as I burst into the bar area proper, and began to attempt to defend myself. However, I was surrounded by at least 4 opponents, and there was no way I could handle myself in such a state. We traded blows a bit, before I realized that he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day. I ran back out into the surrounding cavern, with my assailants in close pursuit. Eventually, I made it far enough away from them to where they gave up the chase. I was bleeding and close to death - how did it come to this? I had no desire for violence, yet I was given no choice by their swift and cruel judgement. I had to act, there was no other decision to be made. It was kill, or be killed.

I indulged in my bevy of stolen provisions, and was able to nurse my health back up considerably, before re-approaching my attackers, who had returned to the tavern. Along the way, I came across my former goblin friend, who had gotten lost in the tunnels. Upon seeing me, his blade drew once more. But he was silenced. I entered the bar, prepared to engage in combat. My first target, and greatest concern, was a nearby traveler who had a peculiar dagger, seemingly riddled with gemstones. I engaged him first, carefully kiting and dancing around his blows, before bringing him to his knees, grabbing his blade, and using it to finish off the remaining patrons with a fair bit of ease. As I looted their bodies for anything of us, I felt a searing and stabbing pain into my ribs...a man had hidden himself away, and waiting for the opportune moment to strike and catch me off guard...he had done well. I engaged him in combat as well, but he was quick and deadly, and I was deeply wounded. Thinking of what may perhaps help, I quaffed many jugs of wine, this greatly helped my health and pain resistance, but my vision began to black in and out as we fought, only allowing me to see half the fight, forcing me to carefully time my approaches and kites, to ensure I would not miss the needed moments to dodge potentially lethal blows. He met his end as I finished him off in an alcohol-induced stupor.

Filled with regret, I patted the poor doggie that was forced to watch all of this, and left the bloody tavern, and this whole mess, behind. I approached the guards’ fortress, which seemed to have been recently attacked my something very powerful, all of the men there were dead, save for one. However, he was on its precipice, and in his dying wish, requested that I tell the king of what had happened here, of the massive and powerful beasts that had torn this fortress asunder, and that aid was needed. I could not go through the normal way however, as the tunnel from the fortress to the kingdom of Arx proper had been caved in by a recent earthquake...I’d have to pass through the goblin kingdom once more to reach Arx, and the king. I was given more false papers to complement my already existing documents. I was now a fully licensed gem trader, free to move about the goblin kingdom as I pleased.

After descending once more into its filth and slogging through spider infested tunnels, tangling with poisonous arachnids and hungry rat beasts, I finally had arrived at Arx, a friendly town, in which I could rest, recuperate, resupply, and meet with the king. As the gates opened up to me from the mouth of the tunnel, I was met by two guards, standing in the courtyard. They seemed friendly...until they caught sight of me; after which, they drew their blades, and charged me. Somehow, word of my massacre at the tavern had reached Arx, though through which means I do not know, as, between the fortress and the tavern, there were no survivors, and the way I went was the only way to reach Arx, and nobody but I had gone through there. Yet here I was, being greeted by blades and shouts for my head, instead of kindness and warmth. There was nothing I could do or say to explain that what had happened was an accident, that I meant no ill will or harm. It meant nothing to them and their cold steel. I slogged through dangerous passages, nearly buried alive, for their sake, and this is how they greet me, someone who wishes to save their kingdom from a greater threat? With armed guards, and citizens attacking me with unbridled rage for daring to set foot in their city?

They want a murderer? Fine. I’ll give them a murderer.

I will cleanse Arx of all human life, for it has given me no quarter, no kindness, no shelter. I have been shown no mercy, and I, in turn, shall have none for them, their weapons, their families, their riches, or their lives. They shall see what happens when you push a man to his breaking point. I spilled the blood of these two guards onto the courtyard bricks, taking their armor and blades for myself, for they were better than the meager rags that clung to my skin, and the blacksmith hammer I had been using to defend myself from the spiders. Some citizens came darting out into the town in fear...their cries were silenced by my hungry sword. Bodies ransacked, keys looted, homes robbed. Every man, woman, and child that came my way met a gruesome end. I showed no kindness, no hesitation. I slew each and every guard that came my way, carefully kiting them into duels of hesitation and moment precise maneuvers. I broke into the blacksmith’s shop, tore through his chests, and found a much more suitable set of armor and blades to fit my killing spree.

One by one, they all feel to my blade. I took the priest’s life on his holy altar, before the sight of a nearby nun...before she met her end. Every house, every building, every door, forced open. I robbed the bank, grocery stores, jewelry stores, alchemists, any place that had anything of value, now belonged to me. As I was finishing my round of the town, I saw the last two beings left alive...one more pitiful guard, and a small girl, hiding behind him. He charged me, and we began to duel. I worked my way around to his flank, but instead of attacking him...I went for the child. I slew her in a single blow, removing her head. The guard pressed his attack with rage and aggression, this left him open for easy strikes. In a matter of a few blows, he was finished.

I began a last walkthrough of Arx, to ensure it had indeed been fully cleansed, before entering the castle proper. I was mistaken, however. There were two beings left alive. An old man, and his dog. He did not attack me on sight, unlike every other being had prior...the merciless dead, who, through their lack of treating me as a human being, led to the destruction of my humanity. But this man was different, he spoke of ancient lore and far off rumors of great mages and demons. He was sitting down by the river, fishing. It seemed he’d had a decent day, his bucket contained a few fresh fish...fresh fish that my bloodstained self needed. I began to take a few, he demanded I stop...but of course, there was no halt to this. As I took the last one, his dog ran up to me and began to bite me, engaging me in combat once more. I didn’t want to kill this dog if I didn’t need to, it was a kind animal and beast. The man rushed me with his fists...which I promptly removed for him, as he gurgled out his last breaths as he bled to death and drowned in the water we fought in. His dog would not give up though, pursuing me relentlessly in hopes to avenge his fallen master. Instead, I allowed him to join him. It was with great sorrow and guilt that I did this, for it was not something that I wanted to do...but I was left with no choice.

But at that point, all life had been removed from this capitol city...it was time to enter the palace, and meet the king.

I was immediately set upon by the king’s guards, knowing full well of my approach. We fought through various hallways, chambers, and rooms. They refused to allow me to take their lord’s life, but their wishes were of no importance to me, they met the same fate as the rest of the town. I burst into the king’s throne room, and was met with two final bodyguards. The king watched as I tangled with them, and left their broken carcasses upon his floor.

The time had come. Now, in this vast hall, my body covered with the blood of the innocent, decaying corpses around us, myself and Lord Lunshire were face to face. In the span of a few short hours, I had brought his kingdom to its knees, forced him to watch, wait, and contemplate his actions, and he progressively sent more and more men into the meat grinder. How many lives would he be willing to sacrifice to save his own? All of them, clearly, for now it was only me and him - and his minstrel, who continued to play a calming tune on his lute. If this was to be the end, then we would enjoy good music in our last moments here.

Lunshire rose from his throne, drew his unique and dangerous blade, and without a word, approached me, and we began to duel. The throne room was our arena, as we circled, kited, dodged, parried, blocked, and moved in and out of each other’s ranges, all hoping to take advantage of openings in the defense of the other. As the battle wore on, steel upon steel, and blade into flesh, the minstrel continued to play on, play on. If Arx was to fall, then it would fall to beautiful, simple music.

Lunshire began to grow more desperate as the fight dragged on, taking risky stabs without much power behind them...either because he hoped for speed and to catch me off guard, or because he was growing weak and weary from the fight. Either way, he was leaving himself wide open....openings I was more than willing to exploit. More and more blood spattered from his body and onto the walls and floor, his swings and strikes becoming more and more pitiful as the duel was clearly nearing its close...as was the minstrel’s lute performance. As the final notes were strummed, I drove my blade deep into Lunshire’s chest, out through his back, and slashed through. As he dropped to his knees, discarding his blade, he made not a sound as he accepted his silent forever fate, as his lifeless body crashed to the ground, and the minstrel’s tune reached its final conclusion.

Lord Lunshire, King of Arx, was dead. And I was the one who had claimed his life. The whole of Arx, this dead city, now belonged to me. I was now Lord Am Shaegar, King of Arx. King of the dead, king of blood, decay, and rot. I had no subjects, no men who owed their loyalty to me, save for the maggots feasting on the corpses of my countless victims. As I approached my throne, I detoured to the minstrel...what to do with him? I considered...I wanted to cleanse this entire kingdom...but...he had not attacked me. And that was the silent rule I had made to myself...only those who showed me hostility would meet my blade...yet here this man stood. No aggression, perhaps a hint of fear...but it was hidden behind a very blank, voidal expression. Perhaps watching his beloved king die was too much for him...regardless, I decided I may as well put him out of his misery as well, what was one final life to add to the total, whether it deserved to be there or not? I raised my blade, prepared to finish off the last of life in all of Arx...and chose to stay my blow. He had done nothing to deserve this wrath, and had indeed played an epic instrumental ballad for the final duel, accenting its dramatic final moments with sheer beauty. Perhaps he did deserve a chance, a chance that the entire kingdom had failed to show me.

I let him live, and requested he play a tune for me, to soothe my nerves. As he struck up and began to play, I approached Lunshire’s body, looted it for all of his wealth, keys, jewelry, and any other goods I could get my hands on. I threw the blade I used to slay him down next to him, on the other side of the corpse from his own, as well as his coveted and sacred ring, now just trash on the floor. I approached the throne, turned around, and placed myself upon it, sticky, filthy, and covered in blood, mud, sweat, and tears. Arx was my kingdom now, my bloody, dead kingdom, as screams of the dead wail and echo in its vast and empty halls, and I will be damned if anyone shall attempt to take it from me.

Your move, Akbaa.

Now, the reason why all of this is so important, both to gaming in general, and Arx Fatalis itself...is because this was all organic, driven by my decisions and actions, in conjunction with their consequences. The game is NOT theoretically supposed to play out like this. Canonically, you’re supposed to arrive in Arx and find it friendly, as its assumed that the accidental tavern massacre did not occur. You’re meant to browse, peruse, trade, and meet with the king. Gain quests, get to know the world and its denizens, and be about your way on your next step to defeating Akbaa. That said, while that’s the way it’s theoretically meant to be played, Arkane allows you to play any way you want, even if that means absolute genocide. This organic gameplay and storytelling, allowing you to go so far as to slay the king and lord of the entire realm, truly allows you absolute freedom in how you want to tell your own story - even Skyrim doesn’t allow for such things, important NPCs will merely go “unconscious”. But here, every life can be taken, and every choice must be accepted and adhered to. I had intended to experience Arx Fatalis in the “normal” way, I had certainly not intended to slay an entire kingdom, but because my actions had consequences, I had to live with them, and embrace my new role as a murderer and eventual kingslayer.

And the fact that this freedom of choice and approach truly allows for such an approach without punishment or otherwise, truly shows what an excellent game Arx Fatalis is. Again, this came out in 2002! Games even today are struggling with this. Arx Fatalis doesn’t cater to you or your choices. Slay everyone? They’re dead, and they’ll stay that way. Them, their personalities, quests, anything about them that made them unique? It died with them, the only things to remember them by are their corpses and goods you can loot from their homes or businesses. The game will not make a “compensation” for this, what happened has happened, said people are dead, and you must accept that. You can and will still complete the game and main quest regardless. However, all those that you’ve slain will not factor into it.

This experience was entirely organic, unscripted, and unique to me and my actions, and it felt incredibly rewarding and empowering to not be strung along, and to be forced to make tough decisions, and live and play by a role because of mistakes I had made. Slaying Lunshire did not bring me satisfaction, merely an understanding that I had finished what I had evolved into a beast built to do, and my rampage was at a silent end, with only a minstrel left to play his bloody king the tunes of a now dead age.

And if that isn’t a hell of an example of an interactive narrative experience, then I don’t know what is. Sound fun? Go grab yourself a copy! Arx Fatalis is free through Arx Liberatis. Just go grab an ISO of the original game (ahoy) or demo (for you legal folk), install it, install the Arx Liberatis mod which’ll use those resources to build itself, and then you’re good to go through Arx Liberatis, which is a far superior way to play the game. You can remove or keep the original Fatalis files, up to you. The Liberatis source port doesn’t need them anymore.

I hope you enjoyed reading and drinking in my tale, and will give Arx Fatalis a try for yourself. It’s a bit of a wonky game, but it’s absolutely incredible, and I highly recommend it.

And with that, I bid you all a goodnight. Thank you!

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lodelss · 5 years

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Rebecca McCarthy | Longreads | Month 2018 | 10 minutes (2,519 words)

In May of 2017, Mayor de Blasio unveiled Jimmy Breslin Way, a street sign dedicating the stretch of 42nd Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenue to the late reporter. It was a strange press conference — half eulogy, half lecture — a chance for the mayor to laud Breslin and scold members of today’s media by whom he often feels unfairly maligned. “Think about what Jimmy Breslin did. Think about how he saw the world,” said de Blasio. He left without taking questions. What was he talking about? Did he imagine he and Jimmy Breslin would get along? In 1969 Breslin wrote a cover story about Mayor Lindsay for New York Magazine, “Is Lindsay Too Tall to Be Mayor?” was the title. Lindsay was an inch shorter than de Blasio.

In 2010, Heike Geissler took a temporary position at an Amazon warehouse in Leipzig. Geissler was a freelance writer and a translator but, more pressingly, she was the mother of two children and money was not coming in. Seasonal Associate, which was translated by Katy Derbyshire and released by Semiotext(e) this month, is the product of that job. (Read an excerpt on Longreads.) It’s an oppressive, unsettling book, mainly because the work is too familiar. The book is written almost entirely in the second person, a style that might’ve come off as an irritating affectation with a lesser writer or a different subject. Here, it’s terrifying — you feel yourself slipping along with Geissler, thoughts of your own unpaid bills and the cold at the back of your throat weaving their way through the narrative. It’s not just that this unnamed protagonist could be you, it’s the certainty that someday she will be you. “You’ll soon know something about life that you didn’t know before, and it won’t just have to do with work,” Geissler writes. “But also with the fact that you’re getting older, that two children cry after you every morning, that you don’t want to go to work, and that something about this job and many other kinds of jobs is essentially rotten.”

The question of who killed New York used to be up for debate. Was it John Lindsay, who couldn’t face reality, who covered the city’s debts with short-term, high interest loans he knew were impossible to repay? His successor, Abe Beame, who bent to the demands of the bankers and gutted the social safety net during the fiscal crisis of the 70’s? Ed Koch, who embraced Beame’s cuts wholeheartedly and mocked past mayors as men who wanted New York “to be the No. 1 welfare city in America”? Giuliani, who launched the deregulation of rent controlled apartments and the quality of life campaign that gave us Broken Windows and COMPSTAT? (I’m not mentioning David Dinkins, because I really don’t think David Dinkins brought us here.) Was it Hipsters and their attendant paraphernalia? Was it the McKibbin Lofts? Union Pool? Was it Shred Stuy?

Inventory work provides Geissler with a granular view of consumerism. Stripped of the marketing and storefronts that make it palatable it quickly begins to look like a form of mental illness. Who is buying these mugs, stamped with George Clooney’s face?

All New York City mayors are venal, but some are more venal than others. A few months ago, I would have told you Bloomberg was to blame, our bloodless, billionaire mayor, who rezoned the city’s most vulnerable neighborhoods and openly courted real estate investment from foreign billionaires. Rents rose at neat clip alongside the homeless population. To his credit, Bloomberg — a very short man — was always transparent about where his priorities lay. The city, he said, was a “luxury product” and it should behave that way.

De Blasio was supposed to be the antidote to the Bloomberg years, a progressive underdog who ran on universal pre-k and affordable housing. But that affordable housing has largely failed to materialize — where it’s been built, it’s often still pretty unaffordable — and his administration has been marked by disappointing half-measures and an ill-conceived plan for a ridiculous four billion dollar streetcar no one wants.

On Black Friday, Amazon workers staged mass walkouts across Europe. On Cyber Monday, led by community groups Make the Road New York and New York Communities for Change (NYCC), protestors stormed Amazon’s Midtown bookstore to protest the planned headquarters in Long Island City and later gathered in front of the LIC Civil Courthouse chanting “I stand in the rain, I stand in the snow, Amazon has got to go!” City Council members Jimmy Van Bremer, Jumanne Williams, and Melissa Mark-Vitero were all in attendance — Williams and Mark-Vitero, it should be noted, are both running for Public Advocate. All of them decried the incentives offered to Amazon, which total about 3 billion. Williams claimed they were steamrolled by the Mayor and Governor Cuomo and that while Cuomo’s betrayal was no surprise, the de Blasio administration was “the biggest waste of progressive capital [Williams had] ever seen.”

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It might’ve been a good show of force, had not all of the aforementioned politicians signed the letter urging Amazon to build its headquarters in New York. What did they think was going to happen? A New York Times investigation released earlier this year showed that the city had lost 152,000 rent-regulated apartments since 1993. The subway system is crumbling, the state leads the nation in income inequality, and the homeless population is at an all time high. No reasonable human being could look around and conclude that the answer to all these problems is to give the most avaricious company in the world the keys to the city. Amazon swallows everything it touches, it isn’t interested in civic health. Only half of the jobs being brought in are in tech and many of the low level positions will likely be replaced by robots fairly soon, but for now, these are the jobs for which the Mayor sold the city. “At any rate,” Geissler writes, early on in Seasonal Associate, “it’s almost impossible not to be forced to your knees and into defiance by this job you’re about to have.”

Geissler was hired in the warehouse to handle the Christmas rush, hence the title, and the cold is so omnipresent it seems to be a feature of the company rather than simply the reality of winter. A gate that will not latch properly becomes a major antagonist and everyone is either ill or on the verge of falling ill, although they have been warned specifically against this. “Sick days hurt Amazon,” Geissler is told at her orientation. Precarity manifests as a constant, low-grade fever. You’re the protagonist but her voice leads you through the job, a tired Virgil navigating a new circle of hell. The work is inventory — entering items into the system so they can be purchased online and performing at least a cursory check to make sure they’re undamaged. “Everything exists, in case you were going to ask,” says Geissler. “Absolutely everything exists, and people can buy it all.” Despite the scale of the warehouse, inventory work provides Geissler with a granular view of consumerism. Stripped of the marketing and storefronts that make it palatable it quickly begins to look like a form of mental illness. Who is buying these mugs, stamped with George Clooney’s face? Who needs these pre-distressed Iron Maiden hats, already rags at point of purchase? Amazon customers, which is to say, all of us.

Geissler isn’t the typical warehouse employee and as a temporary contractor she’s something of a tourist at Amazon. She’s well-educated, she’s white, she lives with the father of her children, and she’s normally able to make a living — however precarious — as a writer. There’s significant privilege there. Many people spend their entire lives working shitty, unforgiving jobs with arbitrary, infantilizing rules and part of the reason Geissler is so attuned to the myriad indignities of Amazon is because she’s unused to them. She’s aware of this position though. “It has to be said right away,” she writes, “that no one is suited for unhappiness, yet this fact doesn’t get enough recognition.” Seasonal Associate is a book about slippage and a sudden fall into the working class, but it’s a document of anxiety and futility rather than stunt journalism. The central rallying point in the warehouse is a desk made out of a door — a replica of Jeff Bezos’ desk when he founded Amazon; an absurd symbol of frugality and the company’s dedication to customer satisfaction over employees’ personal comfort. As if every warehouse worker has the potential to become the richest man in the world, if only they would stop buying such expensive desks. The idea that if you work hard enough you will inevitably rise out of poverty has always been a sham and Amazon has taken it to it’s logical endpoint. You work hard and nothing happens. You will never be good enough at your job, because you’re a human being, not a machine. As long as you’re alive you’re a potential problem for the company.

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In order to maintain some sense of agency Geissler stages tiny acts of rebellion — refusing to hold a handrail despite the signs instructing her to hold the handrail, keeping her safety vest in her pocket until she absolutely has to put it on. The gestures are adolescent and effectively meaningless, but every time she’s snide it’s a relief — a sign of life. Much later, after her contract is finished, she recognizes a man in a parking lot who she described as Amazon’s “only hipster.” The last time she’d seen him he was docking people’s pay for what’s commonly known as time theft. They had lined up a few minutes early to leave work, rather than waiting, unpaid, to go through security. “Unable to think of anything better,” says Geissler. “Or because it seemed like the most appropriate idea, I called out the name of a book I’d just read, by Mark Greif and others. I yelled at him: What Was the Hipster! I called it twice and I thought then he might know he was over.”

Geissler tried to sell the book as straightforward journalism initially and was turned down by five publishers, likely because book is largely boring. It’s a propulsive, weaponized banality though — something unnatural is going on here and it’s hard to see a way out. “You’ve completely forgotten that you have a profession and are only here to alleviate momentary poverty,” Geissler writes, just after her interview at Amazon. “Something inside you is essentially unsettled and will never calm down again, even though you do get the job. From this point on, you are beside yourself with worry.”

My own mother raised two kids by herself as a high school English teacher and she took a number of side jobs to supplement her income. Tutoring, working at a bakery, working at a strange, luxury gardening store that sold copper birdhouses and rocks that said things like “LOVE” and “CREATE” for people who couldn’t. None of them were bad jobs, none as oppressive as warehouse work, but they did not pay very well. Her desk (worse than Jeff Bezos’) was just a slab of wood, perched atop two filing cabinets. She never made a big deal out of that though, because she is not an asshole. She’d wake up at four or five in the morning to grade the lousy papers of teenage Republicans and shovel the walkway, but she still tried to read to me and my brother before putting us to bed. Oftentimes she’d fall asleep mid-sentence and start mumbling about the electricity bill or replacing the boiler. Eventually, a doctor told her she had to relax — her blood pressure was dangerously high, her muscles so tense that when she breathed, her ribs barely moved.

If you think you’re immune to this — if you went to college, if you believe you’re upwardly mobile, if you imagine you will comfortably survive the inevitable spike in rent once Amazon’s headquarters settles into Queens — unless you have vast familial wealth to draw on, I’m sorry but you’re wrong.

My mom was thrown into financial uncertainty (and my dad wasn’t even a deadbeat) by an early divorce and the responsibility for two small children, but at this point that choking feeling is basically just the lived experience of the average American. In a conversation with Hans Ulrich Obrist in 2003 J.G. Ballard said that “the totalitarian systems of the future will be subservient and ingratiating, the false smile of the bored waiter rather than the jackboot.” This is it, the future is here now. It’s because Geissler doesn’t fit the typical profile of an Amazon warehouse worker that her book is such a well-timed warning shot. If you think you’re immune to this — if you went to college, if you believe you’re upwardly mobile, if you imagine you will comfortably survive the inevitable spike in rent once Amazon’s headquarters settles into Queens — unless you have vast familial wealth to draw on, I’m sorry but you’re wrong. Without immediate collective action, this is coming for all of us.

“Too tall,” Breslin clarified, about Mayor Lindsay, “means too Manhattanish, too removed from the problems of the street corners.” He wrote “Is Lindsay Too Tall to Be Mayor?” shortly after his own failed mayoral bid with Norman Mailer, a campaign that left him “nervous and depressed.”

“I saw a sprawling, disjointed place which did not understand itself and was decaying physically and spiritually, decaying with these terrible little fires of rage flickering in the decay…On top of the city was an almost unworkable form of government and a set of casually unknowing, unfeeling, uncaring men and institutions. The absence of communications in a city which is the communications center of the world is so bad that you are almost forced to believe the condition of the city is terminal.”

If that doesn’t sound familiar, it will soon. On December 12, the New York City Council held the first of a series of hearings on the new Amazon headquarters. Protestors covered the balcony and unfurled a No HQ2 Banner. “It’s all smoke and mirrors!” a man yelled. “Don’t let them monopolize the city! Don’t let them near the subways, don’t let them near the schools — these guys are lying creeps!” He was escorted out.

Amazon has become so large that it can have the same pacifying effect as the threat of climate change, but despair isn’t helpful right now. As Hamilton Nolan and Dave Colon have already pointed out over at Splinter, Amazon’s New York headquarters represents the best chance at effectively unionizing the company and the resistance to HQ2 is broad and growing. Still, it was difficult to watch the City Council hearing without a paralyzing sense of dread. Amazon is a contractor with ICE, they have a horrific labor record, and they’re accountable to no one. That guy was right, these people are lying creeps, as are many of the people we’ve elected. There’s such a long and rich tradition of grift in this city that it’s rare to be able to definitively level blame, but here we are. De Blasio was too tall to be mayor and we didn’t see it. “Is this all a matter of life and death?” Geissler writes, at the very beginning of Seasonal Associate. “I’ll say no for the moment and come back to the question later. At that point, I’ll say: Not directly, but in a way yes. It’s a matter of how far death is allowed into our lives.”

* * *

Rebecca McCarthy is a freelance writer and a bookseller.

Editor: Dana Snitzky

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tinymixtapes · 7 years

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Music Review: Pinkcourtesyphone - Taking into Account Only a Portion of Your Emotions

Pinkcourtesyphone Taking into Account Only a Portion of Your Emotions [Editions Mego; 2016] Rating: 4/5 Residues of speed Let’s be old-fashioned and think of slowness. Still, we should be sufficiently contemporary so as not to be unmoored and find ourselves adrift amongst never-experienced nostalgias. To accomplish this, let us consider speed first. Modernity has brought blade to the throat of many, not the least of which is slowness. The modern moment, even divested of critical/cultural markers of place, is the instant of instants, the simultaneity of history, future, and present. Realities once rendered separable by the vagaries of distance and distribution suddenly saw themselves colliding. They became essentially entwined in speed’s refusal to kowtow to space, as it was once forced to do. When Marinetti drove his car into the ditch — due to, of course, some languorous old-guard cyclists hogging the road — he, in the moments between his crash and later retrieval, truly and intuitively understood the intoxication of speed and the role of technology in producing that effect. While traveling at velocity, time and space, the very components of velocity, collapse. Speed fines the self into an arrow, a bullet, a pure movement unfettered by the stultifying demands of spatial or temporal relation. As he writes in 1909, “Time and Space died yesterday. We already live in the absolute, because we have created eternal, omnipresent speed.” Such is the Modern sublime, a reduction of the self, down to the mathematical point, scorching across boundless space and limitless duration. A seemingly small infinity. Speed promises the Dionysian ecstasies of the ancient world in the furnace-gut of the engine, and, moreover, the machinic finally allowed human desire to be transubstantiated into the pure kinetic thrill of movement. By way of contrast, we should ponder the earlier paradigm of the Romantic sublime. Both seek an occasion of intensity that subsumes the self, but, as opposed to its successor, the Romantic finds the durational quality of nature to be the formative locus of such experience. When Shelley looks out on the Alps “all seems eternal now,” and it is. The history of nature has no origin we can conceptualize; it is a thing too large to be contained in the human mind, and our attempts to place ourselves within it, strike out some habitable coordinate amid the chaos, are fraught with complication and burdened by nescience. The history of all things is stretched out over the surface of Mont Blanc’s rough features, and while we can’t read it, through reflection, the echo that the mountain casts within us, we can — as if licked by Pentecostal fires — speak the “mysterious tongue” of the wilderness. There are numerous axes of difference here between the Romantic and the Modern sublime: nature versus technology; expansion versus contraction; receptivity versus activity; the coarse skin of things versus the metallic smoothness of speed; reflective repose versus blinkered velocity; the contained self versus the self unmanacled; the interminable versus the instant; and so on, extending into a myriad of infinities. To most observers today, it would appear speed remains our dominant regime of being. After all, who doesn’t begin each morning with a bit of liquid stimulant? Communication and transportation dissolved the boundaries that dictated much of preindustrial life. The modern fable is the collision of the metropole and the periphery, a forced reckoning of alternative trajectories that hardly existed before. Our own lives, even more modern, are dictated by our relationships to oh so many parallel and interwoven realities that the greatest luxury of — or rather, greatest escape from — the sociopolitical domain of our everyday is the ability to pluck ourselves out from it whenever we so choose (Benjamin writes, “In 1839 it was considered elegant to take a tortoise out walking. This gives us an idea of the tempo of flânerie in the arcades.”). The climbing velocity of money spins the globe ever faster, but we demand to live slowly. Slowness, commodified and compartmentalized, is the ultimate consumer good. Popular practices such as practicing yoga, visiting the farmers’ market, or brunching represent the apex of speed control, modulating the experience of your own life, allowing you to step into and out of the slipstream at any instant. Even more so, the products of such practice seem to hold value far above the individual products of speed — the organic, slow-grown tomato against its supermarket simulation; the long, lazy conversation over Bellinis against the terse Tuesday night at the kitchen counter. However, slowness has become an excessively complicated mode of experience, in spite of its Luddite connotations. The difficulty with this dichotomy of fast and slow is that it is not a dichotomy at all. Yes, we might point to the two approaches to the world outlined above, and we may address that our modern consumption of slowness tends to be non-technological — or at least, disinterested in technology — and that our participation in the day’s farrago is completely technological. Such an approach might be a little too narrow, however, and we should avoid obscuring the possibility of synthesis. That is to say, if speed is the product of our technological modernity, why is slowness suddenly excluded? These same technologies that give us acceleration can provide deceleration. As Lutz Koepnick so neatly limns, the means by which the world has sped up also reveal the means by which it may slow down. He provides a filmic example in slow-motion photography: in order to create the effect of slow movement, one must run the film through the camera faster than normal, yet playback normally. In this regard, we have an aesthetic experience distinct from both its Modern and Romantic predecessors. We have uncovered a new inventory of technologies through which we can subvert, distort, rearrange, and review our experiences of time and space. We can, as Koepnick contends, approach and contextualize conceptions of speed from a site of reflection within. Slowness can become a meditative medium by which we can engage with the structures of everyday life. We can formulate experiences using non-exclusive categories that rest upon heterogeneity and interconnection — neither Romantic dilation nor Modern contraction. Our world is neither the wall of wind at the cyclone’s edge nor the slumbering eye within, but instead manifests as spectra of intensities and experiences that, with slowness as a strategy, we might be able to sort out. 2 or 3 Things I Know About Pinkcourtesyphone She is graceful in her boredom. Legs uncurl across the divan, and the chin holds stoically straight. Her visage summons Niobe (C’est parce que mes impressions ne se réfèrent pas toujours á un objet précis.), but she could never shed a tear, at least not when she’s alone. She cuts the image of a New American chacmool. These moments are difficult for her as the faint narcotizing bliss of her drink and drug elides into an undifferentiated anxiousness, filling up the whole of her home. The chores have long been finished, only the laundry (Pax Americana, lavage de cerveaux super-économique) remains to be done. Much like her clean index probing the bottom of little plastic pill bottles, she spends the time trying to find anything at the bottom of herself. In the stillness, she dreams, though wide-awake. Partial impressions float through, indistinct and bearing the smudges of things borrowed. Only half-dreamed, but by who? (Maintenant, quand je rêve, j’ai l’impression de m’éparpiller en mille morceaux. Et avant, quand je me réveillais, même si c’était long, je me réveillais d’un seul coup. Maintenant, quand je me reveille, j’ai peur qu’il manque des morceaux.) She hates this stillness. There is something oppressive to its weight. The sport of the dishwasher aerosolizing into white noise, the vacuum’s whirr spinning in her head long after she turned it off. She tries to cut through and reconstitute the sounds around her as they truly are. They do not return to her. She recalls making her husband coffee (“Frank, John, Buzz… what was his name again?”) and the vortical ballet of beetleblack bubbles, the clean clink of the spoon against the mug. She knows his father, a face in a small vignette, hair slick and shining with brilliantine, but not her husband. The evening prior, she dropped a plate, jagged shards spinning loose across the kitchen tile. She couldn’t remember why she dropped it, but in her mind the ceramic fragments arranged themselves in a sharktoothed grin written wide across the floor. She wondered if she would cut herself when she picked them up. Later, she would sit in front of the mirror and realize her cheek was stinging and her makeup had run (Quelque chose peut me faire pleurer; mais … mais la cause des larmes ne se trouve pas dans … integrée á leur traces sure mes joues). On the divan, she imagined what it would be like to grow up in a house like this. Herself as a young girl sitting in the yard watching Mommy hang up laundry. Herself as a young girl helping Mommy clean the house and cook dinner. Herself as a young girl dressing up the cat in doll clothes and stuffing it in a stroller. Her as a young girl leaving forever. She circled around these thoughts for what seemed like hours until the phone rang (Tout á coup, j’ai eu l’impression que j’étais le monde et que le monde était moi. Il faudrait des pages et des pages pour décrire ça. Ou des volumes et des volumes). She stood in the kitchen as statuesque as when supine, the droning speaker at her ear issuing no voice. In some feral region inside of her, a pinwheel began to turn. She imagined herself as a grown woman leaving forever. (J’existais. C’est tout ce que je savais.) It is Consoling that Pink Flamingoes Dream “Pink flamingoes sleep. It is consoling that pink flamingoes sleep. It is consoling that it is consoling that pink flamingoes sleep. It is consoling that it is consoling that it is consoling that pink flamingoes sleep. It is consoling that it is consoling that it is consoling that it is consoling that pink flamingoes sleep…that pink flamingoes sleep. There is no anxiety to their sleep. It is apt and everywhere equal.” – Ziff Occasionally in our nostalgic reveries, we come across something uncertain, a stitch out of place in our most sacred of sanctuaries. That anything could breach the penetralium is terror enough, but to change it, to make it unlike, unheimlich? It is a difficult thing, this forced confrontation with memory. Bergson once proposed the tape reel as a (partial) model of time and experience. Future and past always exist in the same proportion; as one end unreels, the other spools accordingly. Bergson’s model was an ideation, a clever metaphor for an abstract concept, but the tape reel is, in fact, real. It spins and spools, and each time it runs, it runs out of time. There are failures here: failures to capture, to represent, to preserve. Finitude and decay are built in. In the activity of memory, we resemble the two, the imaginary and the real tape. By way of our corporeal technologies, we somehow, in the material stuff of our skull, produce ideas of our past. However, there is a crucial disconnect: we generate ideal images via imperfect methods and machines. In our attempts to invalidate time and space, we must contend with the decaying core of our own experience; memory has a cost. To analyze completely is to destroy, as Norbert Wiener concludes in his own studies on human uses of human beings. Both analyzer and analyzed are forever changed by their interface. The memory is not the same and neither are we. In remembrance, we vivisect ourselves. Still, that is no reason to despair. Saint Augustine saw this analytical function of memory as central to self-knowledge, even in the wake of forgetfulness and distortion. Richard Chartier is most certainly tuned into all of this. His Pinkcourtesyphone project, as distinct from recordings under his own name, possesses a dark playfulness, exploiting our common tendency toward distorted self-reflection. His impeccable visual aesthetic (he is a graphic designer, as well) inspires both elegance and distance, a long gaze into an empty world curtained over with pink gauze. It plays with the fear of desensitization, of becoming puppet-like, of surrendering to psychic vacuum. The sound conjures the domestic space, that wilderness of surfaces, stretched sinister by a blear blend of clonazepam and a cocktail. Pinkcourtesyphone is an exercise in how our memory becomes warped, how we become uncanny to ourselves, and how we may salvage something greater than what was lost. It is penumbral, composed in both darkness and light. It is slow work. Taking into Account Only a Portion of Your Emotions, Chartier invites us to inhabit his music, to step into the slowly contorting domestic he has sculpted. We stay for a while. The corridors of the house, by their very shape and configuration, lead us somewhere by its own intent, a psychogeography of sound that repeats and remakes passages. Our advance is gated by repetition, which becomes a demand to notice the subtle transformations of the world and of ourselves. His work is benthic and slimed over in syrup. Each sound is elongated, mimicking a slow-mo camera sweep across some new domestic landscape. Synths swell to a shimmer, and dark melodies wait crouched on the shadowy margin. Abyssal yawns threaten to swallow the scene, and gelid giallo stings call out through the haze. One can hear a music box chiming and twinkling, its ballerina frozen in arabesque turning for an empty audience. Everything must move slowly for fear of breaking the hypnosis and dispelling the memory. Even the intermissions are long; we are never between acts, or rather everything is intermezzo. Whereas speed structures an A-B mindset, slowness inculcates a spectral mode, one that opens perception and relation to the space between two points. This “journey, not destination” thinking is nothing new, but as the circulation of capital accelerates and the space in-between contracts, it becomes necessary to strike out new land in which to live slowly. For Pinkcourtesyphone, that land is a house built to mimic the mind. A home constructed of fragmented memories belonging to no one in particular. Perhaps most importantly, Pinkcourtesphone is boring. We often think of boredom as being forcibly left out of the procession of events, but this is not boredom in the negative sense — waiting at the DMV, your nephew’s school play, dinner with the neighbors. Rather, it is an epistrophic boredom in both the rhetorical and Platonic senses. It is a boredom predicated upon repetition with difference and with a turning over and inward. Benjamin married boredom and generative inward reflection as well, drawing up pages of notes on the subject for his Arcades Project. He writes: Boredom is a warm gray fabric lined on the inside with the most lustrous and colorful of silks. In this fabric we wrap ourselves when we dream. We are at home then in the arabesques of its lining. But the sleeper looks bored and gray within his sheath. The early figure of modernity and urbanity, the dandy, was by choice and distinction always bored. We too can choose to be bored: instead of seeking to kill time, we can invite it in. We can use the opportunity of slowness to collect and reorient ourselves to the world around us. In such boredom, normative relations decouple and all things become pregnant. There is nothing more domestic and comforting than wrapping oneself in a blanket and dreaming. (Il faut que j’écoute, il faut que je regarde autour de moi plus que jamais le monde, mon sembable, mon frère.) By this praxis of boredom, memory, listening, and dreaming — the loosed flood of images and impressions — we can more nearly know ourselves and cut loose from the exigencies of ceaseless motion. In the sedate dreamworld of Pinkcourtesyphone, we are given a place to retreat to, a place to host time and memory and boredom on our own terms. These days, it takes more effort to be slow than fast, and this inurement to velocity risks a separation of the self. Chartier ably dramatizes and complicates this paradigm. As listeners, however, we must want to spend the time and choose to confront ourselves within the drift. We must want to be slow. There is nothing wrong with the indulgence of a leisurely pace, and it may in fact tell us more than the headlong rush into the next. Just don’t forget to eat. http://j.mp/2m0LA5f

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