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oftheflamingheart · 3 years

Text

Not As Planned

This fanfic is a gift for @aromanticandaromatic from the @sanderssidesgiftxchange ! I combined a few of October’s prompts for a Roman x Emile Picani Soulmate AU story. Featuring Sides with Disabilities, and Angst (but Happy Endings)! Hope you enjoy, October, and all my other guys, gals, and non-binary pals that enjoy my Sanders scribblings. Beta Read by @creations-of-ps

Read on AO3 or under the cut below!

In many ways, winding up at some hole-in-the-wall café on the other side of the park was the perfect microcosm of how his day was going. He was in a strange place, in many ways. Literally, he'd never been here before. Roman didn't even like coffee. It had its uses; in a pinch. Especially if he was worried about what the energy drinks he frequently used was doing to him he'd switch to coffee. The cup in front of him was something the barista recommended. One of those seasonal things that's supposed to taste like some holiday treat. Which had it been? Roman couldn't remember.

There was only one real thought in his head. Nobody he knew had ever been rejected by their soulmate. That simply didn't happen. Even thinking about it that way seemed harsh. It had been mutual, at the end. The final rejection had to have the consent of both soulmates, although Roman had suggested any number of alternatives to simply cutting things off. How did the universe mess it up? How could a soulmate be wrong?

Roman turned the cup around in his hands on the table, his fingers itching to pull his phone out and call or text a friend. Virgil would care, he'd been so supportive when Roman found his soulmate. He'd been on the phone with Roman all night after his soulmate left. Virgil offered to cut his trip short and come home, he’d left with his boyfriend on a road trip they'd planned way in advance. Roman threatened to run off to his Aunt Patty’s house if Virgil came home early. Virgil and Aunt Patty didn’t get along, but then again Roman didn’t get along well with her either. After all his reassurances, he'd only make Virgil anxious about him if he complained now. Roman couldn't be that burden.

That's what he'd been to his soulmate. A burden. From the moment he'd seen his soul-stamp in the park, Roman had inconvenienced him. Mr. Soulmate was dating a girl who's soul-mate passed away when they were kids. He'd promised her his heart and he wouldn't give it to anyone else. Not even when Roman offered to be friends. His soulmate wouldn't risk even feeling positive feelings for Roman. Roman had begged, pleaded, bargained, gotten both of their parents involved and even had a heart to heart with the girlfriend. It had all made the soulmate angry. The last rejection stung the most, giving up. His wrist still burned a little.

He raised the cup in his hands to his lips and belatedly realized it was peppermint mocha. Also it was lukewarm at best. He grimaced and looked back down into the cup as he set it back on the table.

"My father used to say the darkest times call for the sunniest smiles!" Roman looked up from his cup of coffee and into a pair of eyes equally as brown, and a smile as sunny as he’d ever seen. He hadn't even heard the other young man approaching. “I bet you have a really sunny smile when you aren’t brooding over cold coffee.”

"You can keep the flattery. I'm not your soulmate," Roman said, dismissively looking back down at his cup.

A whistle from the other side of the table brought his gaze back up. This stranger had an eyebrow raised, his smile no less charming. "Yikes, greet everyone like that?"

Roman looked the stranger over and hesitated. Something in the guileless look he was getting made him want to talk to this stranger. "I'm sorry. I'm not very good company right now.”

"I'm Emile. I've been told I'm good enough company for two people," Emile said, waving a hand in greeting. "How do you know you're not my soulmate?"

Roman bit his lip and tried not to smile at this stranger. At any other time the interest would be welcome. On any other day, Roman would have flirted back. Instead, for some reason he decided to tell a stranger his most painful recent memory.

"My soulmate rejected me." What little conversation going on around them died. Roman sipped his coffee before remembering it wasn't good. He set the cup down again and moved it away from himself. “Yeah wow, can’t believe I just said that in public. Look, I’m sure you’re nice, but my heart’s just done.”

Emile held his hands up, both of which held cups of coffee. "Well, I sure shoved my foot in my mouth. I’m sorry. If you’d like I can go. I did get you a new coffee, but I totally understand if you’d rather not.”

Roman waited a beat but instead of shooing Emile away, he reached for the cup of coffee, leaned onto his elbows and sipped it. “Look, this is excellent coffee but I don’t want to bring you down with my problems.”

Emile waved his free hand. “I’m sure it’s a Wonderland of a mess, but now that I’ve jumped down this rabbit hole, let me try and dig our way out. What do you say, Alice?”

“My name’s Roman.”

Emile’s megawatt smile got even brighter and Roman found the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Roman, before you call it done-zo on your heart, maybe we should make sure it was your actual soulmate?" Emile asked.

Roman rolled his sleeve up. One palm up, he showed Emile his soul-stamp. A Christmas tree, star on top, now sporting a red X through it. His eyes misted over as he remembered the pain of that red X appearing. He felt rather than saw Emile's hand land on his upturned palm. His soul-stamp was a five-pointed yellow star with a red X over it.

Roman's breath hitched. "S-so I'm not alone?"

He hated himself instantly at how raw he sounded. He'd never heard of someone being rejected. A soulmate’s death made the soul-stamp disappear over time.

Emile nodded, turning his hand over to hold onto Roman's wrist. "Let's go for a walk, pardon the phrase."

Roman quirked an eyebrow at that, but stood up and waited for Emile to do the same. Instead, he glided around the table, seated in a wheelchair. Roman was struck for a moment, and Emile giggled. "You really were stuck in your own head, weren't you?"

"I'm sorry," Roman started.

Emile shook his head. "No, I remember how I felt when I first saw someone in a wheelchair. Felt like Aang meeting Teo. Come on, I'll get the door."

“Was that a Last Airbender…” Roman trailed off as he actually had to hurry to keep up. "Um, are you sure..."

Before he could even get the sentence out, Emile had the door open and was gesturing Roman through. "First rule. Don't underestimate what I can and can't do."

Roman nodded as he stepped outside. "Fair enough."

Emile led him to the park. The slight nip in the air felt good. Pulling alongside a bench, Emile reached over and patted on it. Roman obliged, sitting next to Emile with a shy grin. Catching himself, Roman turned away and exhaled.

"Okay. Would you like to share or would you like me to share my story?" Emile asked.

Roman shrugged. "Is it right to lay all this on a stranger? Let alone someone...like you. I'm sure my problems would seem like small potatoes compared..."

"Ah! Rule one," Emile chided.

Roman scrunched his nose. "What? Oh! I'm so sorry, that came out wrong didn't it? I'm just trying to say you've gone through more than I have."

Emile snorted. "I don't agree. I've gone through something different from you, true. But I've also gone through something you have as well." Emile waved his crossed-out stamp at him cheerfully.

"Oh. Right." Looking down, Roman rubbed a thumb over his own stamp.

Emile reached over and covered the stamp with his own hand. "I was in an accident. Car accident. Had to use the jaws of life to get me out of what was left of my car. My...my soulmate, Henry, sat at my bedside until the doctor said that I'd never walk again. That it was likely I'd lose all motor control from the neck down. That's when it became too much for him. He left me. Left me in a hospital bed. My mother was sure I'd die of grief if the operations failed to kill me."

Roman sat back, biting his lower lip. "That's...awful. But you didn't! And you weren’t…well, at least not as bad as they thought!"

Emile sighed. "Yeah, turns out doctors tend to go with the worst case scenario. Plan for the worst, hope for the best. By the time I could move my arms again, the X was already over our mark. I don't know if he even knows what my condition turned out to be. Not that it changes anything for me. I wouldn't take Henry back. I deserve better."

Roman's mouth dropped open. "But...but he’s your soulmate!"

Emile shrugged. "Not anymore. Among the many therapy groups I went through, there was one for people who'd gone through rejection. One of my group members got remarried to their soul mate after their first divorce, but the X stayed. They stayed together another year before they got another divorce. Once rejected, the bond breaks."

"So, I'm just going to be alone forever then." Roman ran his hands through his hair.

Emile wheeled around until he sat across from Roman. "You could be. Or you could be like my group leader. She got married to a man whose soulmate passed away."

The possibility excited Roman. He sat forward, suddenly eager. "Did he become her soulmate? Did her stamp change? Did a new stamp show up on his wrist?"

Emile's smile twisted for a moment and he heaved a sigh. "No and no. But he was her husband and they were, and still are, very much in love."

Roman sat back again. "But..."

Emile interrupted. "One of my friends once told me that having a soulmate is just different than finding your own love. A soulmate is someone made for you, but your own love is one you make for yourself. And who knows your heart better than yourself? The universe?"

"God?" Roman asked.

"Are you religious, Roman?" Emile asked, eyes catching his gaze again, as if they could see into his head.

"I believe in God," he replied. "But, not the same way I was raised."

Emile nodded. "If you can believe in a different God than what you were taught, would it really be so much harder to believe that God could have, let's say, a fallback plan?"

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Like, what?"

Emile held out one hand, his rejected stamp clear to see. "Like Plan A is your soulmate." Raising his other hand, Emile continued, "But Plan 2 is you making your own way."

Roman snorted. "Don't you mean Plan B?"

"Let's not bring family planning into this." Emile said, waving his second hand.

Roman let out a shaky breath. His eyes went out over the park. Could it have been their park? If his soulmate hadn't been so stupidly obsessed with one person's sadness that he would inflict that on someone else.

"I wasn't perfect. When it sounded like Joel…” Roman faltered as he realized it was the first time he’d said the name since he was rejected. Emile waited patiently, his eyes communicated how much he understood what Roman felt just then. “...when it sounded like he would never give me a chance I reached out to his parents. His friends. His girlfriend." Roman let the tears fall. Emile's attempt at placing a handkerchief in his hand failed, so he leaned in to dab at Roman's cheeks himself.

"Nobody's perfect. It sounds like you were afraid, and made some rather unfortunate decisions that only hastened what you wanted to prevent." Emile picked up Roman's hand and pressed the handkerchief into his hand again. Roman took it this time. “But I want you to know that this experience doesn’t disqualify you from being loved.”

When he could manage it, Roman spoke. "So I'm not...bad? Because my soulmate couldn't love me?"

Emile shook his head. "I don't pass value judgments like that. Do you think you were bad? Do you think you didn't deserve that love?" Emile asked.

Blowing his nose noisily, Roman belatedly remembered the handkerchief belonged to Emile. "Uh, sorry."

Emile produced another handkerchief and shrugged. "No worries. It's yours. Well, it's monogrammed, but that was an old wedding gift, so I'm not very attached to it."

Roman patted Emile on the knee. Wincing, Emile produced a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Roman let him squirt some into his hands. "Thanks. You know, I tried to get us into soulmate counseling, tried talking it out with him but nothing could change things once I screwed everything up. I'm...terrible. Yeah, to answer that question, I do think I was bad. I showed him how much I didn't deserve him."

At that pronouncement, Emile's permanent smile faded for the first time. Roman kicked himself again. Of course he screwed up again. A wonderful man with the same problem had offered his help and Roman sucked the happy out of him.

After an awkward silence, Emile lifted his head again. “Have you seen Beauty and the Beast?”

Roman blinked at the sudden topic change. “Uh, yeah,” he said, awkwardly reminded of the pair of beast pajamas he owned.

"Would you say that the Beast didn’t deserve love? ‘After all, who could ever learn to love a beast?’” Emile quoted.

Roman's eyes narrowed. "No, I guess not. But he changes. He realizes his mistakes and learns from them.”

Emile nodded emphatically. "Well, the way I see it, you made a mistake, and you can learn from it. Call it your emotional car wreck. And you could stay in the wreckage, or take the help offered you and find a way to live past it."

"But it's my fault! I drove him away. How do I live with that?" Roman shouted.

Every time he was sure that he wouldn't put up with him, Roman was surprised by Emile's grace. Emile held a hand out. He gave him the wrong one, but Emile shook his head. Sighing, Roman gave him the one with a stamp.

Emile poked his stamp and explained. "The only person responsible for your ex-soulmate's decisions is your ex. You were in an extremely emotional situation and reacted badly, but so did he."

Letting go of his hand, Emile smiled. "And maybe he’ll change his mind. Maybe you'll be able to forgive him completely. Maybe that will restore your stamps." His words would've been comforting, maybe, except Roman was sure he didn't think any of those maybes were likely.

"That's a lot of 'maybes,'" Roman said, narrowing his eyes. "And what about you? Are you just helping a stranger? Are you my jaws of life?"

Emile laughed, and Roman felt something, a little twinge in his stomach. "I'd rather be your friend. I’ve found it helps to have someone who understands when things have gone so wrong. But you get to decide, I’ve imposed myself on you enough. This is your recovery and you get to decide when you’re ready. I sure didn't hop into a wheelchair the day after my accident."

Roman laughed. And, for the first time in months he realized how fake his laughs around his soulmate were. Hearing the real sound for himself again reminded him of something he'd forgotten. "I think I need a friend." He pulled out his phone, wincing a touch at Sheriff Woody stars and boots on his case.

Emile’s face lit up and he pulled his phone out as well. Roman smiled at the Buzz Lightyear logo on the case.

Taking Roman's number, Emile looked up and smiled as he sent a message. They sat knee to knee as Roman read the text. "Well, you've got a friend in me!"

#sanders sides #soulmate au #roman sanders #emile picani #roman x emile #disability #wheelchair #angst #happy ending

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mimzy-writing-online · 4 years

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Hey!! I was wondering if you had any advice for a character concept I've been playing with? :) long story short, my character wasn't born blind, but throughout the story she progressively becomes blind from cataracts- cortical vision impairment to be exact. Is this inherently a bad concept? I really don't want to misrepresent this, and the last thing I want is to make people mad about it. Is there a way I should go about this? Thanks!!

Later message from same Anon: Hey! Just following up on my ask of writing a blind character in the Victorian era- sorry if I missed it

Note: in a message between the first and third, anon added that this story takes place in the Victorian era.

You certainly did not miss it, I’ve just been lazy (struggling) with blog maintenance and have been procrastinating answering several asks. Historical fiction is out of my area of expertise, so this required more research than general advice.

Also, my first and second attempts at an answer were eaten away by computer/tumblr difficulties, so I had to rewrite a lot.

I think it is a fantastic idea to have your character go blind slowly over time. It is also ambitious, so it is something you need to be careful with, but it’s totally doable.

So the era throws me a little because I’ve never had much practice with historical fiction and history wasn’t a fave subject of mine. Most of my research into blind history has been after World War I, because the sudden surge of blinded veterans changed the course of history for the blind community. This and technology overall led to those huge changes.

So I did a little reading up on the recent evolutions of blindness and the world’s general understanding of it in the 1800s.

Conclusion: society was shit with disability, but I already knew that. There were some remarkable inventions and innovations for blindness in this century, which I will get to later.

So this post will be: 1. The more personal aspects of going blind over time (instead of all at once) such as acceptance vs denial, life changes, and internalized ableism. 2. Speculating on society’s perception of the blind. 3. Innovations for the blind in that era and what comes after.

So, part one. The Emotional…

As someone who has slowly lost vision over the course of years and has no idea how far this will progress, I can tell you that it’s an agonizing process of realization, denial, understanding, acceptance, adaption.

Realizing you’re going blind comes in small pieces that eventually add up to become a puzzle. And for this reason, adaption follows a similar pattern.

You identify a problem, feel conflicted about this change, wonder if you should ignore or investigate, and regardless of which path you take, you find a new way to adapt.

I’m going to use an example of my process through this, so you can see the actual thought patterns and how they circle between “this isn’t a problem” – “wait this is a problem” – “no I’m fine!” – “this is a problem.” – “I’m fine, what am I complaining for” – “I made this change and now my life is 100x easier??? Who knew? Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

Example from my life: Light is bright. That hurts but I’m fine. I get sunglasses. The pain with bright light is getting worse. Okay, that’s concerning, maybe I should talk to a doctor. Doctor says I’m fine but now I’m thinking I’m not okay. Why are my eyes doing this? Why do I hurt? Oh, and now bright lights at night are becoming a problem, and I get more headaches associated with light. I could wear sunglasses at night and indoors, but society has given me a negative and judgemental opinion of that, so I don’t want to do it. Best friend pushes me to give up on that negative view for the sake of my health. Finally I listen and life feels much better, but I’m still a little uncomfortable with this change. I feel very blind with my sunglasses, but that’s the only way to not feel pain. And now I feel blind when I’m not wearing any light protection, but I’m in pain this way. What’s wrong with me?

And this is just my internal argument with sunglasses and light sensitivity, from age 17-22. On the other side is my struggle with “do I need a cane” from age 21-22, which goes like this-

It’s August and I’m walking through a semi-familiar but gigantic and ridiculously crowded park with a group of friends. It’s bright out and I need to wear my sunglasses. And now I’m realizing there is a dilemma. I can’t see. My sunglasses are too dark to see. But going without is painful and just as bad vision wise. BUT I CAN’T SEE! I’m scared, I’m going to run into someone or something, I’ll get lost or separated from my friends and not be able to find them. I can’t see curbs or pillars or people and the only thing keeping me safe is holding onto K, who knows my current vision situation when no one else does

And I think to myself- this day would be so much easier if I had a cane.

But I haven’t needed one before, and I don’t ‘normally’ need one. Just every time I go outside on a sunny day. I don’t need it all the time, so I can’t have one, I’m fine.

But these things keep happening, where I’m outside and terrified but I think I’m still “sighted” and my only problem is some light sensitivity and not-super-great sunglasses. My glasses let me see 20/20 (or they did, which they did not a year later) so I definitely don’t need a cane at all.

Young past self, you were so wrong. You needed that.

Eventually I had a breaking point when one year later I’m seeing 20/50 with best correction (so, by legal definitions I’m not even visually impaired yet) but I’m terrified of leaving my house and can’t travel alone and am a literal danger to myself because I can’t see and can’t tell people I can’t see because of social anxiety and internalized ableism-

And the breaking point was that I finally got seriously hurt because I was in a situation where I couldn’t see and wasn’t brave enough to ask my current company to be a sighted guide. That’s the day I ordered a cane, and when it came two weeks ago, I finally remembered what it’s like to not be so terrified for my life every time I left my home.

Your character will over time find problems with her daily life that she didn’t have before, and she’ll deal with each one individually, but with all of them will usually be a repeating thought pattern that is unique to her. It depends on her internalized ableism and society’s ableism (and that era is full of it) and accommodations available to them at the time (also not great).

She’ll solve each problem at a different point that may coincide with other problems and yet still seem like entirely separate problems to them. Like how I wouldn’t relate my need for sunglasses and my need for a cane at the same time because they felt like separate battles to me with their own timelines and similar but still different thought processes.

You will have to decide on a case by case basis what accommodations or accessibility she can have at that time.

Society’s view on blindness:

It’s shit.

It’s not great now, in the world of information available at your fingertips. It’s desperately worse in history.

(TW: abuse of disabled people mentioned -thoroughly- in the next two paragraphs)

Everyone with a disability was treated like shit. Sensory disabilities (Deaf or Blind or Deafblind people) and mental illness were treated the worst. There is historical religious persecution against them, saying that they were made ill by the devil or a vengeful God. Which lead to abuse. They were seen as helpless or unproductive, defective, and so were treated as burdens upon their family and society. Because of this, abuse from parents and family members was horribly common for disabled people. Disabled people were often left in asylums by their family members because they were seen as a burden, where there was usually still more abuse to come.

There are still children with disabilities who are abused by their parents, families, care givers, or any facility they’ve been placed in. The cases of abuse are less, but by no means over.

Ableism in general is just rampant and it’s only cured through the distribution of information. Most people (today) have never met a blind person in real life, had a conversation with one. Through the internet they can find information, but in pre-internet and media eras I can’t imagine how much ignorance runs about.

Most people think blindness is something that only happens with old age, birth defects, or tragic accidents. Or that blindness is obvious in a person. Not the case, as we both know, but certainly a cause for many misunderstandings.

This section is where the development of technology and understanding of blind people begins, but there’s still some ugly history involving abuse of the disabled to come.

Technology and History

(TW: abuse towards historical disabled people in next paragraph)

In 1785 the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles, the world’s very first school for the blind was established in Paris, France. It was opened internationally to children who society had previously deemed unteachable. Valentin Haüy witnessed acts of bullying and cruelty done to blind hospice patients and it inspired him to attempt teaching a blind beggar. He taught the boy to read through raised letters (because Braille was not yet invented). The school he founded could better be described as a trade school, because its primary purpose was to teach work skills like letter press and weaving (going back to Valentin’s childhood, whose family worked as weavers)

Due to criminal activity (he was labeled as a terrorist related to the French Revolution and was a member of the Panthéon Club) he was forced to leave the school in 1802. He later moved to Russia (1806) and began a new school upon the request of Alexander I of Russia.

(TW: child abuse mention in next paragraph)

After his leave, the school had a change in leadership and location, and subsequently quality. Sébastien Guillié became the new director and was later forced to leave because of the inhumane conditions of the facility and welfare of the children. Those children lived in a French Revolution prison that was refurbished as an asylum/school for their education. It was cold and dirty. They were kept in the dark, only allowed to bathe once a month, and poorly fed. This went on until 1821 when he was forced to leave.

Louis Braille (the inventor of Braille) was a student of the school until Guillié’s reign of terror.

The school was later moved to Boulevard des Invalides, and it remains there today. Information with this school is hard for me to access. It doesn’t have the prettiest history, so I can only speculate how much was left out of the books to save the school, and what information I could access is in French.

However, back to Braille.

Braille was invented by Frenchman Louis Braille in 1824. Before his invention, he was taught to read through raised lettering, and he concluded that raised lettering was impractical because-

1. It is difficult to read, the letters had to be printed in huge font to be fully felt out and printed on thick paper.

2. Thick paper means higher quality, more expensive. Larger font means more paper is needed for a single text.

3. This made it inaccessible due to expense and the sheer volume of a text.

4. If today’s Braille books are hard to access and giant compared to traditional books, I can’t imagine how inaccessible those raised letter books really were

Five years later The Perkins School for the Blind was founded in America, making education accessible to blind and deafblind children, and this time it focused on reading and mathematics, more education than trade school.

Though it would not have been possible for your character to attend the school herself, it could be possible that she became acquainted with a teacher or former student of either school, who might have passed on some O&M skills to her or some not so pleasant tales.

Side note: the Perkins Brailler (a typewriter machine for Braille) was developed by a wood working teacher at the Perkins School for the Blind – in 1951, so not applicable to your character’s time period, but I didn’t know this, so I must info-dump

This is before the eugenics movement of 20th century America, when the belief that people with “poor breeding” should be prevented from breeding. The eugenics movement targeted not only the disabled, but lower class and people of color.

The white cane as an accessibility tool was not “discovered” until the 1930’s by Philip Strong, who painted his walking stick white to make himself more visible. This piece of history is a little flimsy in my opinion. Techniques are discovered and lost and rediscovered all the time. You can’t prove he was the first person to “wave a stick” in front of him to find obstacles.

But he is credited for making the white cane something that could be a standard identifier to tell people (moving obstacles) “hey, I’m blind, don’t hit me with your loud vehicle” and made a movement of other people getting white canes to identify themselves.

I very much thank him for it, seeing as I’m so sighted-passing sometimes. If white canes weren’t standard everyone-must-know-what-this-means sort of thing, I think people would just watch me “wave a stick” around and think I’d lost my mind.

(TW: suicide of disabled character mention in next paragraph)

So when you see something like in Downton Abby (season 2) when Thomas and Sybil are trying to teach a blinded soldier how to use a cane to navigate… it could be possible, something that actually occurred to some people then. Although, now that I think about it, that character killed himself by the end of the episode and that still upsets me.

Downton Abby got the period-typical ableism right, I will give them that. Both the internalized ableism as well as how strangers treat you, they got that right. What they did to their disabled characters still bothers me (i.e. death and cure subplots)

(TW has been lifted, you made it past.)

But with World War 1, there was a huge number of blinded veterans entering the world and that did make way for big changes in the world of blindness-

Within a few decades guide dogs were being trained, white canes were becoming a thing, Schools for the Blind were thinking, “hey, maybe we should teach adults these skills too!” and life continued on until it eventually reached out modern world. Which, not applicable to your era, but I think it’s important to know what wasn’t available or common knowledge for your character.

If anyone has other information about historical fiction, the Victorian era, and historical ableism and disability, please feel free to reblog with your input and I’ll reblog it.

As always, this post can be found on my blog through the tags: reference, blind character, historical fiction

#writeblr #writing advice #writing community #historical fiction #blind character #writing advice written by me #victorian era #Anonymous

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Island hopping for gyroids

It's been busy these past few days, traveling from one island to another, staying undercover, and retrieving gyroids. Jamie's on a big gyroid mission so she recruited me and two old friends I haven't seen in forever. Tagging along with Jamie on her adventures are always fun, especially when it involves traveling and high stake escapades.

Joining us are our old friends from Wizpire - Alex and Holly. I haven't seen or spoken to them in years so it was nice catching up with them. Being with them again almost feels like old times, except everything's a lot different now.

Holly used to drop by Wizpire once in a while to donate paintings to the museum but since her garden in Camellia really took off, she's been super busy. Holly's latest project involves putting together rare hybrids to make even more rare flowers. She also teaches online classes on interior decor for the Happy Room Academy.

Last I heard from Holly was a couple years ago when she was living in Airy. She was a well known patron at the museum much like how she was in Wizpire. Holly was also seeing Sam, though they drifted apart about a year later. Sam's a good guy and a dedicated father, but I always felt that he and Holly were incompatible as a couple. They're both old fashioned, though I think Holly's more progressive while Sam's more traditional. There's also the fact that it shouldn't be Holly's job to coddle him when he puts his foot in his mouth, which I'm pretty sure was the source of their conflicts.

Right now Holly has no time for romance. In fact, after being with Sam, she realized that she has no interest in it at all. Holly always figured that she'd be into a romantic relationship when the right person comes along, which obviously turned out to be false. There's nothing wrong with having no desire for romance. From experience, coming to the realization that it's okay to be who you are is a freeing thing. It's also good to know that you're not broken or messed up just because you've never had a crush or experienced attraction towards someone.

I'm glad that Holly's out there living her best life. She made the decision to move to Wizpire on a whim and never looked back. Before that she had an unfulfilling corporate job that constantly stressed her out. Finally, she had enough and took the plunge. Now look where she is, donating to museums, growing a garden, being a seamstress, and teaching interior decor!

Alex has kinda dropped off the face of the earth since leaving Wizpire. She's always busy, hopping off from one thing to another - that's just the way she is, you can't keep her in one place for too long. From deep diving in the Cavernous Seas, racing down Rainbow Derby, skydiving at the Double Helix Nebula, to making treats at the Land of Sweets - Alex has done it all!

Right now she's been staying in Charma making scooters and bikes. After that she plans to move to Etienne Falls to dig up fossils and other hidden treasures. Alex runs a travel blog called Girl on the Run and at this point I think she's traveled to over a thousand different places. As much as I enjoy traveling, I don't think I can keep up with her lifestyle. I like trying out different things and going on adventures but I also need downtime where I can do nothing without feeling like I'm wasting time.

So we've been busy traveling to various islands to retrieve lost gyroids to take back to their respective homes. Some places are easier to access than others, and no two islands are alike so we have to be prepared for the challenges that lie ahead.

The first island we stopped by was Banana Bay, where we went digging at the beach. There, we found a couple gyroids, some old tech, and a couple of rusty keys. Since we needed the keys to get access to an old hideout where the other gyroids were hidden away, Jamie took them to a friend to get them cleaned up. While we waited for the keys we had coconut banana ice cream with bubble waffles, a local treat that was perfect after a long morning of digging in the sand. By the time we were done, they keys were ready to go.

As expected, the old shack was armed with security robots. No one really runs the place anymore except the machinery. The tech may be outdated by over twenty years but the alarm system's still up and running so a simple slip up can put the entire place into lockdown and get us into a heap of trouble.

I was given the task of unlocking doors and disabling cameras. I'm no hacker but the tech is pretty primitive - meaning easy to figure out. All you have to do is solve a bunch of puzzles to get into the system and most of them aren't even that hard. Meanwhile Alex came up with strategies to evade the robots while Jamie and Holly split up to retrieve the gyroids.

The robots were more of a nuisance than a challenge to get through. The blue ones with the giant red eye creep me out though. I made the mistake of looking into one of them and instantly regretted it when a giant four headed spider peeked through.

On day two we went to two islands that were side by side to each other - Teal and Turquoise. In contrast to the sunny beaches of Banana Bay, Teal Island was a snowy forest. In order to get in the caves we need stones to unlock the passageways and pickaxes to get through caved in areas.

We happened to arrive after a big blizzard so that complicated things a little. Light snowfalls made it a bit hard to see, which means we have to be extra careful. Wolf tigers roam the island and they're aggressive as fuck. Ice balls will do the trick when you need to subdue them, but you have to be quick because they can sneak up on you when least expected. Jamie and Alex have dealt with their share of wolf tigers so Holly and I were well covered. Those creatures are scary fast and sneaky.

Walking into the caves was kinda like heading towards a death trap. Along with the wolf tigers, we also have to worry about falling rocks, scorpion bats, and mega tarantulas. While preparing for the mission Holly made us gloves and masks so we won't hurt ourselves with the sharp rocks and dust. I had some of Em and Ludwig's light formula so we used those as flashlights.

As soon as we got what we needed, we headed to the neighboring island of Turquoise. Since we were a little traumatized by the caves, we hung out at the motel and went sightseeing. I found a cute stationery shop called Milk Clouds and bought some washi tapes, stickers, and a notebook. Alex bought a bunch of scented candles from Petrichor Gifts, Jamie treated herself with a lovely handmade silk dress, and Holly bought some handwoven fabric and starflower peach seeds.

Then off we headed to the long abandoned labs in the far end of the island. Jamie rented a plane so we can get there instead of having to go through a dense jungle. We had to land on top of a cliff and then parachute down in order to get to one of the entrances.

Although the lab is pretty much abandoned, it's home to many hostile creatures so we have to be careful if we encounter them. They could care less about the gyroids - and could've made our job a million times easier if they helped us out - but alas we have to that ourselves. Jamie managed to talk to a few of them beforehand and they pretty much just said as long as we stay out of their way then it's good. Do what we have to do and get out. Fine by us.

So that's what we did. There wasn't even that much to look for anyway, and some of the gyroids were in such a bad state that we didn't even bother. I mean it was expected that we can't save everything, still, it's sad that some things will remain lost forever.

Thankfully, the rest of the island is nothing like the hostile creatures residing in the lab. I think I was more traumatized by them than the cave. I try to see the good in everyone but you gotta listen when the warning bells go off in your head. I'm sure a few of them have some good inside them but it's the power hungry and abusive ones who run the place, so you can't let your guard down.

Day three - earlier today - was the final stretch. First, we swam to Crick Island - as in we scuba dived there. Planes can't access it so we have to travel underwater. The island has no residents but it's heavily guarded as it's full of stolen artifacts. It's run by a secret organization that Jamie's been trying to hunt down for years, only for them to elude her as soon as they were within her grasp.

The underwater passages are full of security robots that go off if we bump into them. They only move around the same place so they're easy to bypass. Problem is the water makes it hard to move - unpredictable currents and such. Luckily we're all pretty strong swimmers, but those currents can get pretty rough. Getting thrown into a tangle of weeds is much better than accidentally hitting a robot, no matter how frustrating it is to get out of a sticky situation.

From there, we were able to infiltrate the pyramid lab. Alex was tasked with unlocking doors and disabling security, Jamie did the navigating as she knows the ins and outs of the place pretty well, I evaded the robots while Holly kept a lookout for guards. Since the lab is far from being abandoned or run down, we had to be stealthy and clever.

Then it's back to the underwater passages where we swam to two more secret labs - radium and ionic. I have no idea if the names mean something or they're just random. Had a few close encounters where a guard could've walked in on us but thankfully we managed to steer them away easily. I don't mean to judge but their snobby attitudes just scream pretentious assholes - not the kind of company I'd wanna get stuck with if caught.

Now we're back in Banana Bay, taking it easy before having to do inventory on what we found. It's been a lot of fun but I think that's enough high stakes adventure for me. We're leaving tomorrow evening so Jamie and Alex will go off their separate ways while Holly's gonna be staying at the camp for a couple days before heading back to Camellia.

Gonna treat myself with bubble waffles and coconut banana ice cream - we sure as hell deserve it!

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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ladyautie · 4 years

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get to know me more!

@funyasm tagged me and I’m bored after writing my chapter, so here it is!

✨ what do you prefer to be called name wise?

My name’s Sophie. My friends call me Spencou or Spence. We met on a Role-Playing game forum where I played a character named Spencer. We’re used to call each other by our characters’ names and nicknames, most of the time. My brother calls me Sis’.

✨ when is your birthday?

15th november 1993.

✨ where do you live?

Paris, France.

✨ three things you are doing right now?

I’m watching an episode of AT4W on youtube, scrolling on Tumblr and I’m drinking a coffee.

✨ four fandoms that have piqued your interest right now?

Definitely It and especially Eddie Kaspbrak and the ship Reddie. I’m kinda obsessed right now, writing fanfic, reading fanfic, daydreaming about it and all.

I just played the Last of Us 2 and I’m currently watching a let’s play from my favorite youtubers, Mari and Stacy from Geek Remix. I’ll probably read a few fics as well.

The tv show Barry (HBO) is a definite special interest for me. I’m probably going to watch it all once again real soon and I’m planning on writing a fanfic or two in the future. I’m dying for the third season to come.

Finally, I’m probably going to be super into The Umbrella Academy once again, when the second season will be released. I’m just really into Vanya, Klaus and Allison and I can’t wait to see more of them.

✨ how is the pandemic treating you?

None of the people I know have been contaminated, so I’m lucky about that. I’m not quarantined anymore, back to work, and the transition is not easy.

I feel like I’m more openly autistic than I used to be and that I can’t stand the rest of the world for a long period of time. I’ve experienced multiple meltdowns and shutdowns and I have real difficulties to socialize with most people or to focus on my work.

I feel incredibly naked and vulnerable whenever I’m leaving my flat without my mask on, so I think that’s definitely something I’m gonna have to work on in the future.

Leaving Paris and meeting my folks for my mother’s wedding, I found myself surrounded by people who mostly didn’t care about the virus, kissing each other on the cheek in true french fashion to say hello, hugging, not wearing a mask, not respecting any kind of social distance.

I was quickly overwhelmed by all of that, plus the noise, and I had to isolate myself in my parents’ car, sobbing hysterically and willing to suffer in a overheated car if it meant having a bit of peace.

There are definitely going to be long-term consequences. I can only hope that my physical health will remain okay, though.

✨ song you can’t stop listening right now?

Keep On by Sasha Sloan. I just really love the lyrics and the message.

✨ recommend a movie.

Whenever I have to think of a movie to recommend, Frank by Lenny Abrahamson is the first one that comes to my mind. This movie is an obsession for me since the first time I watched it and I often find myself watching it again and again. Despite its heavy subjects, it’s definitely a comfort movie for me.

Too often, movies featuring mentally ill characters will aim for the characters to “get better”, which doesn’t mean for them to find healthy ways to cope with their issues, but usually for them to look more “neurotypical-like”, if you know what I mean. Frank doesn’t go that way at all. On the contrary, it pushes the viewer to empathize with the main characters and to understand their point of view, their way of being.

It’s so incredibly comforting to watch a movie featuring mental illness realistic and not romanticized and to have the movie say “you’re different and you have issues, but you’ll find your tribe someday and be able to find your own happiness, even if it’s unconventional by society’s standards”.

I don’t know, I just have so much feelings about this movie. Plus the music slaps, the humor is hilarious (kudos to the random French guy who can perfectly understand English but refuses to utter a single word if it’s not in French) and the actors are truly on point (I can only salute Domnhall Gleeson, among everyone else who is also worthy of praise, because he definitely managed to make me hate his character in a way I almost never hated a character before).

Watch it!

✨ how old are you?

I’m 26 years old.

✨ school, university, occupation, other?

I used to be a librarian, but I couldn’t find a stable job in this field, so I passed an entrance examination and I’m now working in the tax administration. Yeah, not really glamorous, but it pays the bills and I’m accommodated for my disability, so it helps.

✨ do you prefer hot or cold?

Definitely cold. When I was a kid, I used to swim in mountain lakes, at temperatures close to 13° celsius, and I still take my showers mostly cold. I can’t stand heat, I get headaches very easily when it’s sunny and I’m getting confused easily whenever it’s too hot. I recently had a nosebleed at work so intense that I found myself spitting blood (it went better once I got a fan, making the temperature bearable).

✨ name one fact others may not know about you.

I used to be allergic to my own sweat when I was around 18, until my early twenties. Whenever I was doing a mild physical effort or getting stressed out, I would get hives and itchy skin rash all over my whole freaking body, which was so exhausting that I would fall asleep immediately as soon as the rash was gone.

It disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, without me ever doing something about it. I still don’t know why I experienced that and if I’m going to experience that ever again. I hope not.

✨ are you shy?

My autism makes social interactions complicated, but I’d say I’m mostly impaired by my social anxiety and the various traumas I’m dealing with daily.

Traumas I got after having been bullied pretty badly by kids and teachers during my school years, my stepfather being borderline abusive and different traumatic experiences, including my childhood crush dying from a ski accident when I was 15 or so (and me never being able to tell him that I loved him) and people betraying me so many times that I can’t even recall every little thing.

As a result, I find myself doubting constantly that I’m worthy of love, affection and respect and I often wonder when I’ll do or say the “wrong” thing that will cause me to lose everyone I care about. I also have a hard time knowing who I am and, as a result, allowing everyone to know who I am as well.

I often don’t know what to say and will find myself keeping my mouth shut, even on topics I’m knowledgeable about, because I’m scared of people shutting me down, among other things. My friends make it easier for me to talk about things I like and all, but I’m still heavily doubting myself.

I try to challenge myself regularly. I’ll force myself to take part in events that are taxing or that are forcing me to perform in front of people. That’s how I found myself taking part in the casting part of the french equivalent of “American Idol” (I merely met the pre-judges, but I did manage to sing my whole song in front of them). I needed to prove to myself that I could do it.

✨ do you have any preferred pronouns?

I’m using she/her, but I don’t mind people using they/them to talk about me if they don’t want to be gender-specific.

✨ any pet peeves?

I hate how people can freely and openly be homophobic, racist, ableist, transphobic, sexist and so on, but as soon as I open my mouth to let them know that what they said/did wasn’t appropriate, I’m labelled as one of those “hysterical feminists” or a “party pooper”. s/ Sorry if your antisemitic joke isn’t making me laugh, my “dear” colleague... /s I hate whenever people infantilize me, especially my mom. She’s still keeping an eye on my bank account, despite me telling her that I didn’t want her to do so again and again. I don’t dare to block her out, because I’m scared of her emotional reaction. I hate the ugliest parts of fandom, notably the obsession with “who’s topping / who’s bottoming” whenever there’s a gay pairing or the racism / ableism / transphobia / homophobia I’ve witnessed again and again.

I don’t dare to engage in the Last of Us 2 fandom because of that and the way some people describe the character of Abby (a very muscular woman), focusing on her physical appearance and calling her awful names (being downright transphobic when they thought that she was the transgender character that Naughty Dog announced there would be in their game).

✨ what’s your favorite “dere” type?

I had to google it, because aside from Yandere and Tsundere, I didn’t know a thing about it. I guess you could say I’m a Dandere (someone who is quiet and asocial. They are afraid to talk, fearing that what they say will get them in trouble.).

My favorite type is Kuudere though, when it comes to anime in particular (someone who is calm and collected on the outside, and never panics. They show little emotion, and in extreme cases are completely emotionless, but may be hiding their true emotions. They tend to be leaders who are always in charge of a situation.).

My favorite anime character, Kiyotaka Ayanokōji from the anime Classroom of the elite, is the most extreme case I can think about. He’s completely expressionless for most of the anime, talks with a very dull voice and it’s impossible to know what he’s thinking about at all times or what’s his overall plan. His hidden depth makes him all the more fascinating. He managed to keep me interested in a mostly meh anime.

✨ rate your life 1-10. 1 being really crappy and 10 being the best you could ever be.

It’s a bit hard, but somewhere around 5 or 6? I went through tons of crap in my life but I’m still here and able to live on my own, even if my quality of life isn’t all that good. I live with nearly daily suicidal thoughts since I was a teenager and have to compose with my meltdowns and anxiety attacks as well. I feel “other” most of the time and I can’t relate to most people I’m meeting and interacting with, which can sometimes feel very lonely.

On the other hand, I have wonderful friends who are willing to put up with my trauma crap and are overall amazing to talk to and be around. I have a cat I love dearly. They’re the reason why I’m still alive to this day, giving me a reason to say fuck off to my suicidal thoughts.

✨ what’s your main blog?

My main blog is Ladyautie and is about autism. I have another blog, reddie-4-more, focusing on the It movies and Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier.

✨ is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

So, uh, don’t be weirded out by the kind of things I can tell you about my past. Even if it seems a lot, all of it is definitely true.

For example, I was almost kidnapped when I was around 8 or 9 by a random guy, while I was camping with my father.

My father and my paternal grandmother actually kidnapped me and my brother when I was around two and I stayed with him until the social workers determined that my mother had to raise us again because our well-being and overall life were threatened.

Lots of events of my life seem far-fetched or out of a movie / a book or something and I had people telling me that I must be lying or that I’m over-exaggerating, something that always hurts deeply.

I’m terribly awkward and more or less openly autistic, so you’re definitely going to notice something different about me. I can’t change for you and I’m not willing to hide my traits only to make you feel more comfortable about frequenting me, so if you can’t handle my socially anxious and disabled ass, then just leave.

I need people to actually tell me what they think or feel. I’m very “first degree” and I’m pretty bad at guessing what people are thinking about. Don’t be afraid to be frank.

Finally, never, and I mean never, infantilize me. I’m a 26 years old woman. I’m not a kid.I’m fine with my friends offering to help or making sure that I’m okay or so, but never assume that I don’t understand something and don’t force your help on me if I say that I’m okay.

That’s it, those who want to take part in this exercise, don’t hesitate!

#tag game #not entirely autism related #suicide mention

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thessalian · 4 years

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Thess vs Risk Management

I went out for a much-needed big grocery shop yesterday and am reminded once again that some people are piss-poor at risk management.

Look, it’s one thing when you’re taking risks with your own health. We do it just about every day, to one degree or another. But first of all, it is degree, and second ... it’s other people too; don’t be a dick.

The queue at the big supermarket is about as long as usual, but currently there are ... exceptions, I suppose, to various of the rules being put in place to safeguard people as well as can be expected in this particularly trying time. Here are the ones that are being bent, brutalised, or just plain ignored.

Only one adult per family going in to shop: This one I saw a few times, and was more than a little annoyed with, but the one that particularly got to me was also a queue-jumper. See, I didn’t mind that this poor woman jumped the queue, because it was clear that she was physically incapable of handling standing in a queue for 20 minutes or more - she had a cane, and was using her shopping cart as a walker. I minded because there was someone with her. Look, if this woman was going to make that trip - if she was going to go to the supermarket and go around the aisles with an elderly woman with very obvious health problems ... why didn’t the able-bodied woman go on her own? Do the disabled woman’s shopping and bring it to her? Why was this a thing? You broke two rules of Crisis Essential Shopping when you could have just been nice. The poor woman’s daily exercise should have been a walk in the park, not shuffling around a grocery store.

Only a certain number of shoppers in the shop at a time: This is where the queue-jumping starts getting irritating. I can’t say whether the five or six people who jumped the queue yesterday did or didn’t need to do so (except in the case mentioned above), but I can say that there was already a certain number of people in the shop, no one had left through either door, and they were waving these people through Because Reasons. Most of them just looked in a hurry. Either way, there seems to have been a view that “Eh, just a few more won’t hurt” in terms of people in the shop and I have to wonder how far that goes.

Only go out for essentials: Okay, I can understand popping down to the corner shop for a couple of treats. What I cannot understand is going into one of the largest supermarkets in the borough and only coming out with two boxes of pre-packaged sushi.

Practice social distancing: Apparently forty seconds is too long to wait for some people, who squirmed right into my personal space while I was quickly checking the label on a tin of soup to see if it’s in line with my dietary restrictions.

Let’s not even get into the fact that someone somehow managed to let a pigeon wander into the bakery section and despite the one staffer I talked to saying that his colleagues were “trying very hard to catch it” ... I didn’t see anyone anywhere near the thing. In their shoes, I’d have been slowly herding it out via whatever exit they have in the in-store bakery.

Basically I am seeing the isolation fatigue in more than just “It’s a beautiful sunny day and those are so rare in this country WE MUST BE OUTSIDE!”. The stupid part is that even when lockdown eases, those measures are still going to be in place to at least try to minimise the damage that easing the lockdown will do. Everyone seems to think that ‘easing the lockdown’ means that ‘everything will immediately snap back to normal’, which ... no. No, it really won’t. We’re going to have to put social distancing into practice everyplace that reopens. I know that things are going to have to reopen at some point, but this isn’t the time to get careless. The more we actually follow the fairly simple rules set out for us at this time, the sooner the restrictions can ease a little.

Side note: turns out that the NHS is starting to reopen a few non-COVID-related things, so Agency Guy got in touch saying that he’s still keeping an eye out. It’d be nice to be working again, but ... the way things are going right now, I’m kind of hoping for a little more breathing space before I have to go out into the world.

#Thess on COVID

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meowingjasper · 4 years

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Lost Souls Ch 15 Anastasia - Not the Weirdest Conversation

After Nadia separated from me to find a place to rest, I made my way to the apothecary. I found Thalia unconscious with her torso covered in bright white bandages stained with blood. Relief washed over me as I watched the steady movement of her chest. A voice spoke up next to me, “You must be the Greek Apollo girl responsible for healing her.” I spun around and came face-to-face with a blond man in his late 50s.

Hesitantly, I stepped back, “Y-Yeah, th-that’s me.”

The man smiled, sending a warm feeling through my veins, “Not bad. It was clearly your first time, sure. But you also have some talent.”

I blushed with embarrassment as I denied, “W-What? No! I-I didn’t even know what I was doing! I just… well…”

The man cut me off, “Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Like I said, it was your first time. I doubt anyone actually knows what they’re doing the first time around. What I’m saying is Thalia should be grateful that you were there. Thals has a problem of charging into trouble without thinking.”

I repeated, letting my confusion sneak through, “Thals?”

The man ignored me, “Being the one to care for her, I heard what happened. I believe it, but…”

I sighed, looking to the ground, “Never meet your heroes, right?”

The man replied, “No, that’s not it…” He trailed off before perking up, “Oh! There’s a place you should check out. Have you seen where the Neptune kids stay? It’s pretty neat, you should go check it out!”

I tried to protest, “But-!” He cut me off by shoving me out of the building. I turned around, but he slammed the door in my face. Walking off, I grumbled, “Rude.” After asking around, I found myself standing in front of Neptune’s cabin. The building appeared well-kept overall, only minor damage here and there. In fact, it appeared completely untouched. The whole place, with its several empty beds and emptier rooms. An aura of abandonment emitted from its very presence. Neptune… so this is where Percy must’ve stayed. He really left an impact on everyone’s lives, even after he passed. And now that he’s back, I have to… take… his life. This unkillable demigod, do I even stand a chance? Does anyone?

“You know, he told me the first time he stayed here, he was just as conflicted.” I spun on my heel to see a scrawny man in his 30s with… goat legs, I think?

Confused, I questioned, “I’m sorry if this comes out rude, but who- what are you, exactly?”

The man (?) burst out in chest-filled laughter, “You mean to tell me that you’ve never met a satyr before?” I frowned, the satyr meant it as a joke, but the guilt just added more weight on my soul. The man noticed, concern in his eyes, “Hey, what’s wrong? I may be a stranger, but I promise I’m good with emotions. Satyr speciality!”

I felt a small smile grow on my lips as I replied, “I heard. It’s just… Percy Jackson’s now a villain, but before he left such a positive impact wherever he went. But now… he’s a threat. One that I have to fight or else he’s gonna take my cousin from me and use her for something unforgivable! But I just… I don’t want to fight him! I don’t! But I just got Nadia back and… and-”

The older man cut me off calmly, “I get it. Percy did do a lot of good, for both camps. But the dude’s still human, they have a bad case of miscommunication. Sure Percy’s changed a lot, but hurting the people he cares about? That’s impossible, for him especially. There has to be a reason for his actions. For all you know, there may be something deeper hidden that may give you a different option. Especially with Percy, who never fights unless he sees no other option.”

I pointed out, “You talk as if you know him.”

The satyr ignored my statement, “Head towards the training grounds. If you really think you’re the one who has to take down Percy, she’s one of the few who knows how.” I followed his gaze towards a nearby valley with an area that looked like a small arena.

Realization of my mistake struck me as I turned back, “What, I never asked your-” Yet, I found only empty space. Alone, again. Why didn’t anyone seem to want to share their names? Is there something more to this? Something I’m… just not seeing?

No matter, I made my way to the arena the satyr suggested. I noticed right away the place was unusually empty. Everything was set up in perfect order and cleaned to the point of brand new. There was only an older woman in a wheelchair cleaning a spear. Her back faced me, but I already felt an aura of intimidation and strength overwhelming me. I opened my mouth, but the woman snapped, “You gonna say something or stand there looking like an idiot?”

Shocked, I stuttered, “W-Well, it’s just- I wasn’t expecting-”

That was the wrong choice of words, which I learned when the woman cut me off, her voice sharp with rage, “What? Someone in a wheelchair? Spoiler alert, injuries exist. The sunshine children and their sunny legacies can’t heal everything. The more you know, or whatever. So you can do whatever you want, just don’t bother me, girl.” Terrified, I complied and chose to look closer at the weapons area. I may have misheard, but I could hear the woman grumble, “Dam, Jackson. Just my luck that when you finally return, I can’t even fight you. You were just so lazy you couldn’t bother coming a few years sooner.” Despite the spite in her voice, one glance to her eyes spoke a different story. That look, one I noticed matched everyone I've met so far, one of loss and guilt.

Hesitant, I spoke up, “Hey, did you-”

The woman cut me off, her eyes flaming with murderous intent, “Didn’t I say to leave me alone? I know you have something more important to do than stand around and annoy a disabled woman.”

Just then, Keith and Silena decided to appear. Keith started, “Hey Anastasia, Rachel let us know that-” He cut himself off as his eyes met the woman’s. A beat of silent tension passed before Keith shook his head and continued, “Uh, yeah, Rachel contacted the help she mentioned and they’re going to meet with us in the strategy room, or something.” I nodded and the three of us ran out. Little did I know, the woman’s eyes followed us as we ran out, a small smirk on her lips.

She chuckled, “This is gonna be a real treat.”

We found ourselves in a bronze and silver colored room with a giant dark wood table and chairs, which had carvings of a different number or godly symbol each. At one end was Harli with Kyle in the seat next to her. Nadia sat in the seat across from Kyle, her eyes closed in thought. Silena asked, approaching the trio, “So where are they?”

Harli only smiled, “You’ll see. Based on what Kyle saw, I have a feeling you might recognize them.” What? Wait, was Kyle spying on me?

On cue, said people walked in the doorway on the other end of the table. They were- wait, hang on! The trio of adults that entered were none other than the very adults I chatted with! The woman smirked, “Told you I knew you had more important things to do, Anastasia Roma.”

To my surprise, Keith stepped forward, smiling, “I knew I recognized you three. Will Solace, resident sunshine boy; Grover Underwood, resident goat boy; and Clarisse La Rue, resident angry bi-”

Clarisse snapped, “And you, Leo Valdez, resident repair boy.” Keith frowned and his eyes dimmed. Calmly, Silena placed a hand on his shoulder and the two exchanged a silent conversation.

Hesitant, Keith looked back to the trio, correcting, “Actually, I go by Keith now. Keith Volace.”

Smiling, Will ruffled the shorter blond’s hair, “Alright then, Keith it is. Calling you Leo felt wrong, anyways.”

Kyle spoke up, “Can we please get back on topic, please?”

Harli nodded, her face expressionless, “Certainly. So, the three of you were all close to Percy Jackson, correct?”

Grover replied, “That’s right. Will dated Nico, Percy’s cousin. Clarisse and Percy were good friends and bitter rivals. And I had been Percy’s best friend since before camp. But Le- sorry, Keith, you have Leo’s memories, right? You must know some things to help us out here.”

Keith pondered, “I… maybe. I haven’t really scoured my memories with all that’s been going on.” He closed his eyes but his focused mindset seeped through. He murmured, “Percy… he cared about his friends more than anything. He… tried to bury his emotions to appear stronger. He was… stubborn, but at times gullible. Especially when important stuff was on the line. He was much better at strength than brains… which Annabeth helped with using her own brains.”

Nadia spoke up, “Well clearly something must have changed between then and now. Not only the obvious fact that he nearly killed Thalia, his own cousin, but he seemed extremely clever. He tried to convince me to join him, and he seemed to know exactly what to say to affect my beliefs to the very core.”

Clarisse crossed her arms, “So is it safe to say the Percy we’re dealing with is nothing like our resident Seaweed Brain?”

I suggested, “I don't… I don’t actually think so. During the fight, he regretted every second of the fight. He even said ‘There’s no other way’. I don’t think he’s doing all of this damage to cause harm. I think- it’s like you said, Grover, is it? There has to be something more going on. I think… I think it has to do with why he revived instead of became reborn like Leo-”

“Or Nico.” Everyone’s gazes snapped to Silena. Most of us forgot she was there. She chose to lean against a wall and hide in shadows, surrounding herself in an eerie aura. Silena pushed off the wall and started walking towards us, explaining, “Despite common beliefs, souls don’t have a gender. Especially when it comes to rebirth. Not only that, but some souls can pass on items to their reborn forms they’ve gained a spiritual connection to. In Leo’s case, it was the belt of his dad. But for Nico… well I couldn’t help but notice a new piece of jewelry you’ve attained after you vanished, Nadia.”

Will’s eyes darted to the skull ring Nadia twisted on her hand, realizing, “That’s Nico’s ring! I know it for certain. He… He even has the same fidgeting habit when he’s upset.”

Nadia took a deep breath, “Yes. I am the reborn form of Nico Di Angelo. But, unlike Leo, I couldn’t inherit his powers and he chose not to pass on his memories. All he told me was the threat Percy posed. I don’t think Percy recognized me. But, there’s something else I didn’t mention. The reason why he managed to gain so many demigod supporters despite the fact he also enlisted the support of several monsters. He doesn’t torture them, he barely tortures them mentally. He does make them test their loyalty, but you saw the farthest he’s got. Even with me, he never tried to push me beyond my limits when he made me hold the sky.”

Grover cut in, “He made you what?”

Silena muttered, “That explains the grey hair.”

I looked between them, “Wait, why does that affect her hair?”

Nadia declared, “Not important. What matters is he always made sure to treat them like humans, not pawns. And, if Tyche was anything to go by, the demigods he recruited came from terrible backgrounds and he gave them a new chance, a new home, a new family.”

Harli concluded, “So he goes for the very values his targets hold dear.”

Grover spoke up, “It goes deeper than that. There’s something that connects the people Percy tried to manipulate.”

Keith realized, “They’re all values and desires he had. He wanted to appear strong. He wanted friends and a family beyond his mother. He knows what to say to sway the values because they’re his own.”

Kyle spoke up, “So we should have the same thing.”

Harli turned to him, “That sounds like an idea.”

Kyle explained, “There’s no way we can beat the strongest demigod in history. At the very least, we cannot beat him physically. That only leaves one option, we resort to out-smarting him.”

Nadia continued, “And that reminds me of another thing Nico said. The only way we have the ability to… kill Percy… is if he lets us.”

Will asked softly, “Wait, do- is killing him really the only option we have?” One question, no, two words. That was all it took to raise the tension to max. Silence choked at the air and no one could grasp at their voice tight enough to reply.

“We have to.” It was I who took it upon myself to break the silence, to cut the tension. I explained, “Think about it. Think about everything we said. Percy saves demigods and hates the fact he’s attacking his friends. He’s clever at hitting the values he knows best and he claimed to believe that what he’s doing is the only way. He doesn’t want to bring ruin, he wants to die. For some reason he kept his memories while his friends got the chance to start over. He’s doing this because he wants us to kill him. He wants us to see him as a villain so we hate him and not feel guilty overtaking his life.”

Grover’s gaze darkened, “But, why? It… It explains so… explains so much. But just, what could make Percy want to die?”

Harli declared, “That is uncertain. But we must use our knowledge to gain the slight advantage. Clearly, he must think taking Nadia might give him some sort of gateway to dying. We must use that. She will return to Percy, but as bait. She will not be alone, her and two others-”

I spoke up, “It has to be her, Silena, and me.”

Keith blurted out, “What the fuck?”

Unfazed, I elaborated, “We have to bring Nadia, not only as bait but also because of her ability to freeze time. Silena must come because she’s our escape route if things turn south.”

Silena stepped forward, “Yeah, we get that, but why you? If there has to be a third person, wouldn’t Keith be better?”

Keith suggested, “Or maybe the trio that survived two wars and lived during one of the greatest Ages of Heroes?”

Will let out an awkward chuckle, “Er, that’s not the best choice. I mean… There's a reason we managed to survive this long. We’re, um, we’re not exactly part of the group you see on the front line, you know?”

Grover snickered, “Well, not anymore.”

“Screw you, goat boy!”

I studied the trio. On closer inspection, I realized just how scarred they were. Not just physically, with their scars scattered on their skin, grey hairs, and injuries, but mentally, with their tired eyes and sullen expressions. What once were great warriors of legends were now simple folk just trying to live through the day. I shook my head, “No. Keith should fill Thalia in when she wakes up. Besides, it was my prophecy, my quest. Remember the line about the quietest demigod? It’s about me. It didn’t mean literally, it meant the one who blends in the background the most. The rest of you all stand out, being Praetors, rare children, or war veterans. I don’t. I barely even have any special powers beyond accidently blinding people. He’d never expect me! The moment I realized just what we were up against I knew it would have to be me to commit the deed.”

Clarisse scoffed, “Well no duh, I mean the rest of us already figured that out when Rachel filled us in.”

Silena shot her the classic ‘Silena skeptical glare’, “Really?”

Harli reminded, “It does appear only logical that you doing the deed is an appropriate conclusion. After all, this mess did start once the two of you arrived. And it was your cousin that was targeted.” I looked around to others, and they all appeared in agreement with the girl, though some looked more reluctant to admit that fact than others. Harli sighed, “It appears we are all in agreement. So it is settled, tomorrow Nadia, Silena, and Anastasia shall set out for Percy Jackson on Mount Othrys. However, tonight you three must have a healthy rest to ensure our victory. Grover, can I entrust you to escort them to their chambers? Dismissed.” Grover nodded and led our group to our rooms, leaving mine for last.

Before leaving, he pulled me into a hug, whispering, “Please, save him from himself.”

I assured, returning the hug, “I will.” In reality, I couldn't tell if I said that for his sake or mine. But it didn’t matter, now I had to come back victorious. After all, I keep my word.

In slumber, I found myself wandering once more through eerie darkness. Out of nowhere, a light blue glow appeared in the distance. Before I realized it, I started sprinting towards the light. I reached an image of the man I have to fight on his knees. He stared up at three old ladies, begging, “Please, haven’t I paid my dues? I want to be done with the fighting and danger! I was then you killed me and put me right back here! I fought in every war! I traveled on every quest! I just wanted a chance to start over, but I can’t! Why? Answer me!” The three women boomed in sync,

“Your time had ended too soon

Six souls revived for time

Your sins will be your doom

Only then may end a lifetime.”

Percy cried out, standing up, “What does that mean? Why can’t you be straightforward for once?” He charged at the trio, only for them to vanish upon contact. All that remained was a single piece of paper, which Percy clutched with pure hatred in his eyes. Around him, the environment shifted to a chamber in, I presume, their hideout.

Tyche entered, “Percy? I’m sorry, we failed to find them. But I’m sure we’ll get them tomorrow. After all, we have luck on our side.”

Studying the page, Percy replied, “Right. Make sure your team is rested and well fed before you head out. We don’t want you to be hungry cause I doubt San Francisco food can be classified as edible.”

Tyche softly chuckled, “Heh, right. Well, you make sure you take care of yourself too, Percy. We won’t get very far without our leader.” With that, she walked out. So that confirms it. Even with the desperate state Percy seems to be in, he still puts the well being of others first.

Once Tyche vanished, Percy’s composure shattered as he crushed the old page in his hand. Running a hand through his hair, he let out a bone-chilling laughter. He switched out the paper for his bronze blade and chucked it towards the door. Tyche came through, slicing the wood in two, letting out a scream that rattled the deepest corners of my soul. Falling to his knees, he hugged his chest and let out crazed sobs, “Please… Please… I just want to rest…”

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blacksunwillbecanon · 5 years

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It’s Funny...

Some people in the FNDM think that Blacksun is a boring romance. How? 🧐I’ve explained all of their significant moments here but I’ll address the topics that are significantly impacting the FNDM and that is REPRESENTATION.

Before I begin, let me explain something to you all. I am an African-American women who identifies as a straight demisexual 👩🏾‍💼. This means I prefer to be with men but I need to have a strong emotional connection with a man before I can be in a relationship with him. Also, I was on the very low end of the autism spectrum. When people ask for representation, I am right there with them. However, I don’t want to see representation that is forced, fake or is just there to please the audience. I want representation that is authentic, enriches the story and gives me a really good feeling. And when I talk about representation, I am not just talking about LGBTQ+, I’m talking about People of Color/minorities and people with disabilities. And I honestly believe that Blacksun hits these three major categories in an authentic and excellent way that does not take away from the story of RWBY which is about Ruby,Weiss,Blake and Yang along with their friends and loved ones protecting the World of Remnant from Salem,her compatriots and Grimm. Now I will break down these three forms of representation and explain how Blacksun fits into them.

LGBTQ+

As I’ve mentioned in this post and in many discussions, Blake, Sun or both of them could be bisexual, which is part of the LGBTQ+ community. Some toxic people in this FNDM tend to forget that bisexual people are part of the LGBTQ+ community. They make up the B in the acronym. Bisexual individuals are attracted to people of the same and opposite sex. Sun Wukong (the mythological character Sun is based off) is bisexual. He was attracted to Tripitaka/Tang Sanzang but was a flirt to both men and women. Since Sun is from Vacuo, the most relaxed kingdom in Remnant, don’t you all think that Sun would flirt with men and women? Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he flirted with his team before meeting Blake. He’s an open person. And Blake could be bisexual as well. Her voice actress A/rryn Z/ech is bisexual as well. Although she was in a relationship/partnership with Adam, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a crush on some female white fang members or a section leader who was female. Even if Blake and Sun were NOT in relationships with people the same sex or showed outward attraction, that should not be an excuse to erase their sexual identities.They are young adults, they are still trying to figure themselves out! Also, is it wrong for bisexual people to be in relationships with people of the opposite sex? Let’s take some members of CRWBY for example. Lindsay is bisexual and she’s happily married to Michael. Barbara is bisexual and she is in a happy relationship with Trevor. El/lie who was in a relationship with a woman is now in a relationship with Miles and A/rryn is in a relationship with a man (I’m sorry but I do not know his name). Just because a person who is bisexual is in a relationship with someone of the opposite sex does not give you the right to say that they are not LGBTQ+. You all should realize that all healthy and wonderful LGBTQ+ relationships can be M/M, F/F and M/F. This includes cisgender, transgender and non-binary.

Minorities

In RWBY there are two intelligent races and the two races are humans and Faunus. Faunus are an oppressed group within the world of Remnant. They are branded, treated less equals and are abused. If I’m going to be honest, the Faunus are supposed to alluded to real life minorities especially Black People. Why? In the past, Africans were brought to the Americas and Europe and were literally slaves. They were beaten, had their rights revoked and struggled to get their freedom. Also the White Fang alludes to the Black Panther party. Tell me, what are Blake and Sun in the show? They are Faunus. They are part of an oppressed group in the World of Remnant. Also consider this thought...Sun is a faunus team leader who attends Haven Academy that is located in Mistral,the second most racist kingdom in Remnant whereas Blake was a member of the extremist White Fang and the daughter of the former White fang leader. They’ve also had different experiences being Faunus. I find it wonderful that two members of an oppressed race come together to learn about each other’s respective experiences and work together to reform an organization meant to bring about peace and equality.

Also, I know real life ethnicities are not fully considered in the show but if we were to apply them to Sun and Blake, Sun would be Chinese and Blake would be Indian(primarily due to her parents inspirations)-Japanese. I think a lot of us can agree that it would be refreshing to see an well developed couple of color bring positive change to Remnant. If I were to assign team RWBY real-life ethnicities they would be the following:

Ruby: 1/4 Chinese and 3/4 European (British)

Weiss: German

Blake: Indian-Japanese

Yang: 1/4 Chinese and 3/4 European (Norwegian and British)

Also its great that Sun and Blake have beautiful contrasting appearances which helps establish that they are Faunus of different upbringings and experiences but they are coming together to make positive change.

Disabilities

This last form of representation is one that is rarely discussed in the FNDM and that is disabilities. So many of us here believe that Sun has ADHD. This and this post do a really good job explaining why Sun is likely to have it. ADHD can arise not just through genetics but the environment as well. Sun was born and raised in Vacuo, a kingdom that had suffered through depleted resources, violence and Grimm. When we first met Sun, he was running on the boat and throughout Vale. Also, his tail is constantly moving which could be his outlet like how someone would tap their foot or press the button of a pen. Also, the precious Sunny boi was very excited talking to Neptune about Blake and her team. Listen to his tone and the speed of his voice. Did you guys notice how Neptune is conversing with him? He’s patient and understanding with Sun. This could also be applied when he was talking to Blake’s parents. We know that Sun is a smart, wise, fun and capable leader. Although we don’t know anything about his past and experiences (and I know we will learn more once we hit Vacuo), don’t you guys think it is important to have a major supporting character exhibit a disability? This will allow members in the FNDM to relate more to the character and show members with disabilities that they are heroes in their own right. That their disability will not hinder them in saving the world. Blake and Sun being in a relationship can assure people with disabilities that they to can find love with and in someone.

Thank you all for reading this analytical piece. I hope this brought some perspective about the three main forms of representation and how Blacksun can fit into them. This isn’t meant to shut down your personal ships. This post was meant to shut down the toxic part of the FNDM, mainly elitist bees and wasps. If you have any questions or concerns, DM me or send a civil ask. Thanks! 😁

#discourse #blacksun #analysis #rwde #rwby #post #wudonna #sun wukong #blake belladonna

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rtirman-blog · 7 years

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21 Graduation,roses, and baseball.

The first graduation I remember ever attending was when I graduated from high school. I can’t remember going to Al’s graduation, but I know he graduated. Mickey and I graduated together. Mickey is sharper than almost everyone I know. He was having difficulty in school because he has dyslexia. The whole way through his education, the schools and the teachers had no idea how to help…or they never heard of dyslexia. There were no such things as Learning Services, or Disability Services. I can’t even remember any Special Education classes. Generally, just about any kind of disability put you out of school, destined for home education.

Our graduation was outside in Freeport Stadium, the home of the Freeport Red Devils! We were on a portable stage, located on the 50-yard line of our football field. I can remember both Mickey and me receiving our diplomas on that very sunny, breezy day in June of 1954. Mother and Joe, probably, were in the stands. But if it was on a Saturday, Daddy and Phyllis were not. However, if it was a Sunday, all of them were there. I can guarantee no grandparents, aunts, uncles, or friends of our family were there.

Neither Mickey nor I received any kind of special recognition. However, if there was recognition for most absences, Mickey deserved that award, with me as runner up. If you were absent from school, you needed to bring in a signed note from home giving the reason for your absence. I wrote all the notes. If my mother would have written one, it would have been considered a forgery. Here’s an example:

Dear Mrs. Skinner,

Please excuse my son Michael for having been absent yesterday,

December 11, 1953. He was kept home from school because of

illness.

Sincerely,

Signature,

One time when Mickey played hooky, I decided I was not writing an excuse for him because he could have made it to school that day, and he had far too many days absent. Naturally, Mickey was certain I would write the excuse for him. He kindly explained my options- write the excuse… or…get the crap beat out of me and then write the excuse. My role, as the excuse writer, over time, may have made me more responsible and adult like. Regarding Mickey’s attendance behavior…I told him I would not write the excuse. After a few punches in the arm and my face being pushed into the living room floor, I wrote the note… in tears. In my heart, I vowed to shove a knife into his stomach when I get bigger. It has never happened. But we are both still breathing in our 80’s – there still is time!

Before I write about my life after high school graduation, there are just a couple of things I want to share with you that happened earlier. The first involves my friend Roger, my wingman who helped me get that date with Carol Lee in 6th grade. Evidently, the B-12 vitamins he was consuming helped him grow. By the time we were juniors in high schools, Roger was a good five inches taller than me.

Also, he was much more involved with girls than me. We did hang out sometimes. But as time progressed, I saw less and less of Roger. I spent most of my time with John and, of course, Mickey. It was weird, in a way. He probably had friends I never met; yet no matter what he was doing in life, I always felt close to him- he was forever my friend. He died from nephritis at age 24. I was in the Mid-West when I got the call telling me he died. All I remember was me lying, face down, on the living room rug crying. Even with the years of separation, I lost a “brother”. My memories of him are forever.

The story is about softball, and it begins with Roger. It was either the summer of 1952 or 1953. Roger’s dad helped Roger form a softball team. Unlike the basketball team when I wasn’t a starter, I was a starter on the softball team.. I was put in right field. Do you have any idea what being put in right field meant? It was like being told you stink at this sport. Since we have to include you, we’ll put you in right field (where there is hardly any action), and oh! you are batting ninth (last in the lineup). As the home team, we ran out onto the field as the game began. I was all set, and all alone, way out in right field. I should have been playing 2nd base. That’s my position. On our team at Princeton Summer Camp, I was the 2nd baseman. My throws to first base were exemplary. I had an overhand throw that sent the ball to 1st like a bullet 3 feet off the ground. I was the Eddie Stanky of softball! (Stanky played 2nd base for the Dodgers in the 40’s).

Here I was, out in right field, feeling lonely and misused. Almost immediately, I decided to go home. So, quietly, I walked further out in right field to finally disappear. I walked all the way from Randall Park to home. A day or two later, Roger told me that in the third inning, when I was due to bat, they couldn’t find me. No one missed me! Unless your Carl Furillo (Dodger right fielder), it’s a common fear- if you are playing right field and leave, no one will miss you.

That year, the Police Athletic League (PAL) was beginning its softball team. The PAL was not well organized in Freeport. In fact, it was not well organized anywhere outside New York City. Joe Romeika, a cop assigned to help get Freeport boys involved in sports, suggested I join the older boys on a PAL team. Joe was a terrific guy, who I had met earlier, at Randall Park, when we played hardball. Believe it or not, in hardball, I was either a shortstop or a catcher. Anyway, Joe Romeika suggested my move to the PAL team right after I shared with him my right field experience. Even though I looked 10, I reminded Joe of how old I was, and that I would catch for the PAL team. Actually, playing with those guys was quite a few steps up for me. Needless to say, I was a good catcher. I fashioned myself as the next Mickey Owen, another Brooklyn Dodger.

Just at the time I joined the team, Joe had decided we needed uniforms. To pay for the uniforms, we had a lottery to win a TV console with an AM-FM radio and a phonograph record player. Over the next two weeks, each of us on the team were selling one dollar chances to win that big prize. I got busy selling! I can’t remember how many chances were in each book of chances, but I went door-to-door, ending up selling 66 chance books. My efforts just about paid for uniforms for half the team. Joe Romeika was super grateful, and proud of me. He then asked me if I would like to attend a Dodger game and appear on television on Happy Felton’s Knothole Gang.

Prior to every Dodger home game, along with the game, WOR-TV Channel 9, broadcasted live, from Ebbets Field, “Happy Felton’s Knothole Gang”. As hundreds of thousands of baseball fans tuned in, three of us from the PAL got to throw a baseball with a Dodger, then compete against each other for a chance to attend another game while sitting in the Dodger Dugout.

As my family, cousins and all, were glued to the TV, Renzi Lamb, some other kid, and I were on the screen throwing a ball with Jim Russell, a Dodger outfielder. Happy Felton asked each of us a few questions, and finally, the competition. No, I did not win. Renzi won. He would return to Ebbets Field the next Day. This may seem like sour grapes…I was a catcher, not an outfielder, Renzi’s uncle was Harold Parrott, the traveling secretary for the Dodgers, and finally, the lower part of the right field wall actually is angled at least 45 degrees from the ground and the upper part of the wall is perpendicular to the ground. When Jim Russell practiced with us, he threw balls off the upper part of the wall. We would play the ball off the wall and throw it back to Russell. While playing ball with me during the competition, which was televised,

he threw the ball toward the lower part of the wall causing the ball to bounce further away from me than I expected. Just as Happy Felton was telling the TV audience about what hustlers we kids were, I was sadly moping for the ball in disgust. My family said that as soon as they realized I was not a hustler, the TV went to a brief commercial. I think they were kidding me, but I certainly put myself out of the competition. Perhaps if that competition was done behind home plate or if one of my uncles worked for the Dodgers, things would have turned out differently. Like I said, no sour grapes.

The other thing that I was thinking about was 7th grade. Many things stand out in my mind. The first is Mrs. Carpenter, my homeroom teacher for the first half of the year. I think she taught English, but I never was in one of her classes. I can’t tell you the measure of her contribution to my survival. Believe it or not, I would go to school early just so I could spend time with her. She talked with me, had me help her with small tasks, and simply let me know I was someone she cared about. Maybe she was my homeroom teacher the whole year, but somehow I think she was gone the second half of that year.

Then, I had Mr. Acerno for math. He was a superb person with a great sense of humor. At the end of the year, he had me help him with administering the Final Exam. I got A’s from start to finish. Administering the final was a special treat. The other kids would know I was the smartest kid in our math class. Also, some of the smartest kids in 7th grade were in that class.

If you remember that lady, across the street from us, who made the bouquet of roses for my mother, then you know where Mr. Acerno’s fiancée lived. She was that lady’s daughter. Occasionally, we would see him visit her. Doing his patriotic duty, he joined the Army to fight in Korea. To my disbelief, he was killed in battle. I wish I could remember his fiancée’s name. I did go visit her and her mom to say how sorry I was.

Then there was one morning, near the end of the year, when I stopped to see Mr. Southard, the Principal of the Junior High School. I liked Mr. Southard a lot. He soon became Principal of the High School. His daughter Janet was a classmate of mine. She was just about one of the prettiest girls, ever! I never got to know her well, but we said hello. She didn’t know this, but one day at Jones Beach, she was standing right by my blanket in her bathing suit, and my eyes were glue to her legs up by the bottom of her bathing suit, with my imagination going wild. It was fortunate I was lying on my stomach.

When I stopped into Mr. Southard’s Office, no one was there. The secretary must have gone somewhere, and I could see his empty office through his open door. As I sat waiting, I looked on the secretary’s desk and right on top of the desk was the pile of Mr. Case’s Social Studies Final Exam that we were to face in a day or two. Again, with quickness of action, I grabbed an exam, folded it, and pocketed it. I left the office in due haste. Before noon, I had secretly shown my find to, at least, ten of my friends, most of whom were top students. Naturally, they all took a good look at it, and we planned to look at it after school. When I went home at lunchtime, I told Al what was going down. Al strongly suggested I turn myself in because someone is bound to rat on me. He said I shouldn’t have told anyone.

So after lunch, I went to see Mr. Southard, and told him what I did. I apologized and told him I deserved any punishment he thought to give me. At his request, I also gave him the names of all the other cheaters. The next scene was Mr. Southard reprimanding lots of the top students. His talk to them included my honesty in coming to him. He was very proud of me, and disappointed in them.

So I came out of 7th grade with fairly good grades and with my future high school Principal having enormous trust in me. I wish he would have said to me, please date my daughter, Janet!

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thebravetheboldandthebeautiful · 7 years

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Banning Books by Jordana Levine and Talia White

According to the American Library Association, “A challenge is an attempt to remove or restrict materials, based upon the objections of a person or group. A banning is the removal of those materials. Challenges do not simply involve a person expressing a point of view; rather, they are an attempt to remove material from the curriculum or library, thereby restricting the access of others.”

In the past ten years, there have been more banned books than ever before. The majority of banned books are banned by parents from schools across the country with the most common states being Oregon and Texas. As the number of banned books is increasing, this brings up the question if society is more sensitive to what teens and children read nowadays versus back then?

Abigail Merelman, class of ‘16, believes that it’s more or less the same. She says, “Parents used to be sensitive to blood and guts and stuff but now they are sensitive about things that could hurt their kid's self esteem.” She thinks that, “banning books imposes your values on other people without their consent, which is in direct opposition to the first amendment.”

An American classic that was banned many times is The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, published in 1951. It is about a teenage boy named Holden Caulfield and his struggle with growing up. Despite taking place in the 1950’s, his story is still very relatable to this day and age.

TeenInk summarized the book perfectly in addition to explaining what caused the story to be banned. “The Catcher in the Rye tells the story of Holden Caulfield, a rebellious teenager facing psychological trouble...goes on a journey to New York City. On his journey, he faces alcoholism, constant cigarette smoking, and emotional breakdowns. Holden is really just a typical teenager: rash, angry, and ignorant.

According to TIME magazine, in Oklahoma an English teacher was fired for assigning the book to an eleventh grade class. In Ohio, The Catcher in the Rye was said to be “anti-white” and formed a delegation to ban it from local schools. One library banned it for violating codes on “excess vulgar language, sexual scenes, things concerning moral issues, excessive violence and anything dealing with the occult.”

While Holden is in NY, he is offered a prostitute for five dollars. Instead of doing what is expected, Holden is lonely and just wants to talk with the prostitute named Sunny. She is not for it and instead beats him up. Her pimp so to say beats Holden up and steals his money.

Later on, Holden encounters Luce, a man who went to his school and used to talk about sex with the boys. Luce becomes irritated by Holden’s remarks regarding homosexuals and Luce’s Chinese girlfriend. This is one of the situations that parents most likely don’t want their kids reading about in the eleventh grade. But is it fair to say that kids will find these things out one way or another so why not through books?

Another classic American novel that was published in 1953, Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, is another book that frequently shows up on banned book lists.

Set 300 years into the future, Fahrenheit 451 is a science fiction story about a firefighter named Guy Montag who lives in an authoritarian society and whose job consists of burning state-mandated banned books. At first Guy enjoys his job and believes that he is doing something to help his community but as time goes on he begins to consider whether his job really is helping the community or if it is destroying an entire culture.

Venado Middle School in Irvine, California banned Fahrenheit 451 for its use of curse words. In addition, Fahrenheit 451 was accused of going against certain religious beliefs.

In addition, the book was challenged in 2006 at the Conroe, Tex., Independent School District because of the following: “discussion of being drunk, smoking cigarettes, violence, ‘dirty talk,’ references to the Bible, and using God’s name in vain.” The novel went against the complainants’ “religious beliefs.”

Bradbury’s mentioning of the Bible is seen on the last pages of the book where Guy uses passages from the Bible to talk to survivors of the bombing of the city. Also, the last line of the book reads, “When we reach the city,” suggests a symbolic connection between the atomic holocaust of Guy’s world and the Apocalypse of the Bible.

Also regarded as having religious symbolism is The Lord of the Flies by William Golding, published in 1954, which tells the story of a group of boys stranded on an island after a plane crash. It is controversial in it raises questions about the nature of man. The events that take place on the island, including sacrifice and other religious symbolism, show how easily chaos can ensue without rules and order. The novel represents man as savage and uncivilized. It is similar to The Catcher in the Rye in that both deal with the loss of innocence.

It is one of the most common books to show up on banned book lists according to the American Library Association.

In 1984, it was challenged again in the Olney, Texas Independent School District because of "excessive violence and bad language."

In addition, a committee of the Toronto, Canada Board of Education ruled on June 23rd, 1988, that the novel is "racist and recommended that it be removed from all schools."

Again, the book was challenged in the Waterloo, Iowa schools in 1992 because of profanity, lurid passages about sex, and statements defamatory to minorities, God, women and the disabled.

The iconic, pulitzer prize winning American novel, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, has also shown up on banned book lists across the country since being published in 1960.

The novel takes place in Maycomb, Alabama during the Great Depression and is told through the point of view of a six-year old girl named Scout. Her father, Atticus, is appointed to defend Tom Robinson, a black man, accused of rape.

Due to racial themes, the book was challenged in the Santa Cruz, California School District in 1995. That same year, Lee’s novel was removed from the Southwood High School Library in Caddo Parish, LA 1995 because the it’s “language and content were objectionable.”

In 2007, the book was retained in the English curriculum by the Cherry Hill, New Jersey Board of Education. A resident had objected to the novel’s depiction of how blacks are treated by members of a racist white community in an Alabama town during the Depression. The resident feared the book would upset black children reading it.

Being an English teacher at Columbia High School who has experience teaching banned books, Susan Ryan thinks, “that in a democratic society you want to encourage thoughtfulness, you want to encourage critical and independent thinking and if we ban things, we lose the opportunity to have meaningful discussions about issues that are often difficult to discuss in society.”

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